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Chapter 788:
Alycia stared out at the passing streetlights. A cold, creeping dread was building in her stomach. She didn’t know what was waiting for them at the manor, but she knew it wasn’t nothing. She could feel it in her bones—the same cold certainty she had felt in the hospital conference room. Something terrible was coming.
She glanced at her sleeping father, and a dark, quiet thought moved through her mind. If she was going to fall, she wasn’t going to fall alone. She would take everyone down with her. Especially June.
An hour later, the taxi pulled up before the massive iron gates of Beasley Manor. The gates were rusted, hanging crooked off their hinges, the long driveway swallowed by overgrown weeds. The driver didn’t wait for them to gather themselves. He threw both doors open and sped away, leaving them standing alone in the mist.
A thick fog hung over the estate, wrapping the main house in a shroud of gray. The house loomed in the mist, dark and silent, like a vast tomb. No lights anywhere. The only sound was the rustle of leaves in the wind.
Richard stumbled up the driveway, still half-drunk. “Come on,” he muttered, yanking at the gate. “The safe is in my study. There has to be something left p>
Alycia followed slowly, her eyes moving across the surrounding tree line. Something was wrong. It was too quiet. Too still. No crickets. No birds. No sounds of any kind—as though the world had gone silent and was holding its breath.
She looked deeper into the shadows between the trees. And then she saw it. A tiny red flash of light, deep in the darkness. Then another. And another.
Infrared lights. SWAT goggles.
Before she could speak, two blinding headlights sliced through the fog. A black armored Maybach slid silently out of the tree line and pulled up directly in front of them, blocking the path to the house. The engine idled low, a deep and menacing growl.
The rear door opened slowly. A pair of black high heels stepped onto the leaf-covered ground.
𝖣o𝘸n𝗹оа𝖽 рD𝗙s 𝘧𝗿𝖾𝘦 о𝗇
June stepped out, holding a black umbrella. Easton followed close behind, his hand resting on the weapon holstered beneath his jacket, his eyes moving steadily across the property.
June was wearing a simple, perfectly tailored black trench coat. Her face was pale, but her eyes were cold and still and absolute. She stood in the fog, looking at the two broken, bedraggled figures before her, and a thin, unhurried smile curved her lips.
“Welcome home, Mr. Beasley,” she said, her voice soft and clear, cutting through the silence like a blade.
The headlights blazed down on Richard and Alycia, reducing them to two squinting, shadowy figures. Richard shielded his eyes with one hand, the alcohol still clouding his brain. When he finally recognized June, his face twisted into a mask of rage.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he snarled, taking a threatening step forward. “This is private property. I’ll have you arrested for trespassing p>