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Chapter 870:
“I will fund a special prosecution task force. I will hire the best legal minds in the country to ensure you are charged with every possible federal enhancement. And I will not rest until you are sentenced to spend the rest of your natural life in a supermax facility, buried so deep underground you forget the sun exists p>
Alycia’s pupils dilated. Her torn mouth opened. Only a small, broken whimper came out.
“And while you wait for that living death,” June continued, her voice dropping further, “I will make sure every single day is a waking nightmare. You will beg for an end long before one comes p>
The reality of it crushed something irreparable in Alycia. She had not simply attacked a rival. She had awakened something with the wealth, the will, and the patience to drag her into a darkness that had no floor. Alycia’s body began to shake. She lost control of herself entirely.
June held her gaze for one more second.
𝘗о𝗽𝗎𝗅a𝘳 𝗌𝘵or𝗶е𝗌 оո ѕ.𝖼𝘰𝗺
Then she opened her hand and let Alycia’s head drop back onto the asphalt.
She stood. She reached into the pocket of her trench coat, withdrew a white silk handkerchief, and wiped her palm slowly and methodically, as though she had touched something diseased. She dropped the handkerchief onto Alycia’s face.
She turned her back and walked away without looking at her again.
The marshals hauled Alycia off the ground and dragged her toward a waiting armored cruiser, her sobs swallowed by the noise of the street.
A metallic screech cut through the intersection. The firefighters had snapped the A-pillar with the Jaws of Life and pried the crushed door open. Paramedics rushed forward, slid a cervical collar around Marcus’s neck, pressed an oxygen mask to his face, and eased his limp body onto a backboard.
“Massive blunt force trauma to the chest!” the lead medic called out. “BP is crashing — internal bleeding. Presbyterian Trauma Center, now p>
They hoisted the stretcher and ran.
June ran after them. Her bare feet left bloody prints on the cold pavement. Easton was right behind her, scooping a sterile trauma pad from a dropped medic kit without breaking stride. She jumped into the back of the ambulance as they loaded the stretcher.
She dropped to her knees beside Marcus and pressed his large, cold hand against her forehead. The tears she had been holding back came silently, falling onto his skin.
Easton climbed in behind her, stripped off his charcoal overcoat, and draped it over her shaking shoulders, wrapping his arms around her from behind to keep her grounded.
The ambulance doors slammed shut. The sirens screamed. The vehicle surged forward toward the hospital.
Across the street, in the deep shadow of an alleyway, Cole’s black SUV sat idling.
He had watched everything through high-powered tactical binoculars — the crash, the van missing June by inches, the firefighters cutting Marcus free.
He slowly lowered the binoculars.
His hands were shaking so badly he dropped them onto the floorboard. His chest heaved in short, ragged pulls. The blood had drained completely from his face.
The image of the van’s grille filling June’s field of vision burned behind his eyes and would not leave.
Message from Noa: Have a great weekend dear readers. God loves you and Noa wishes you all the best. O)