Chapter 263
Chapter 263:
June’s eyes narrowed. She pushed her burning legs harder, closing the distance rapidly, her entire focus locked on the figure ahead.
She didn’t realize that his movements weren’t panicked at all.
Rocco was not running blindly. He was executing a perfectly choreographed retreat — drawing her forward, step by calculated step, directly into the jaws of a trap she hadn’t seen coming.
The game of cat and mouse was about to reach its bloody conclusion.
June’s boots skidded slightly on the wet concrete as she rounded the edge of a massive rusted container. She threw her weight forward, recovered her balance, and sprinted into the clearing.
It was a dead end.
Three towering walls of corrugated steel formed a perfect, inescapable box.
Rocco stood at the very back of the enclosure, leaning against the metal wall, hands resting on his knees. He had nowhere left to run — and he knew it. He wasn’t panicking.
June stopped ten feet away, keeping her center of gravity low, every muscle coiled tight.
“Rocco,” she said, her voice a cold, commanding strike through the rain. “It’s over. You’re done p>
𝗥еad 𝘧r𝖾e 𝗇𝗈vе𝗅ѕ 𝘰𝗇.с𝗼𝘮
Rocco lifted his head slowly. The hood fell back, revealing a face covered in cheap tattoos. He wasn’t catching his breath. He was laughing.
A slow, sickening smirk spread across his wet face.
“Done?” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “Lady, I think you got the script backward p>
A heavy, synchronized scraping sound rose from behind her — the unmistakable drag of boots on wet gravel.
June’s stomach dropped. A spike of pure adrenaline drove through her chest. She spun around.
Eight men stepped out from the narrow gaps between the containers, moving with practiced, predatory coordination, forming a solid wall of muscle across the only exit. They were massive, their faces hardened by years of street violence, holding heavy wooden baseball bats, rusted steel pipes, and short hunting knives.
The leader stepped forward — a hulking man with a shaved head and a thick black spiderweb tattoo covering his entire throat. He chewed gum with slow, exaggerated movements, raised a heavy steel pipe, and pointed it at June’s chest.
“So you’re the one who’s been sniffing around our supply lines,” he said, his eyes raking over her with predatory contempt. “You look tougher than your photo p>
Rocco let out a sharp bark of laughter from the back of the alley.
The freezing rain soaked through June’s trench coat, but the cold sweat breaking across her spine was far worse. Her mind instantly mapped the geometry of the trap: three solid steel walls, eight armed men sealing the exit, zero escape routes.
She kept her face completely blank and slid her right hand slowly into the deep pocket of her coat, fingers searching for the panic button on her encrypted burner phone. Three seconds of pressure would send an SOS ping to Crawford.
The leader’s eyes locked onto her pocket. He spat his gum onto the wet concrete.
“Trying to call your boyfriends?” he sneered, his face twisting. “Too late p>