Dumped My Cheating Ex. Now I'm Sleeping Next to a Billionaire CEO novel Chapter 878

James moved faster than anyone expected. With one swift kick, he shoved the fallen body ahead, using it as a shield just as the shots rang out. The bullets tore into his teammate instead.

He didn’t waste a second. While the gunman was fumbling for a new magazine, James flicked his wrist and sent his knife sailing straight into the guy’s forehead. Three seconds. That’s all it took. Clean, precise, not a single move wasted.

Outside, nobody dared charge in. For a split second, the world went quiet. James knew he couldn’t stay trapped here. He glanced toward the cliff he’d climbed up before. There were patrols waiting, and beyond them, a quiet neighborhood. He could almost hear the echo of a child’s song drifting on the wind. He couldn’t risk dragging violence in that direction. He wouldn’t let those kids get hurt.

So he made his call. No going back the way he came. He turned, cut through the bedroom, and launched himself out another window, sprinting for the private dock on the opposite side of the villa.

“He’s heading for the dock! After him!” The searchlights followed him, bullets kicking up dirt at his heels.

James darted through the shadows, weaving and ducking, always one step ahead. He moved like a ghost, impossible to pin down. Blood soaked his shirt and ran down his side. He could feel his strength slipping away, but his mind stayed sharp, determined. He had to get out. He had to find her.

The dock came into view. Boats bobbed quietly in the dark. He picked the smallest, sleekest speedboat, leapt aboard, and rolled to avoid another burst of gunfire. Bullets smacked into the windshield with sharp, metallic cracks.

He scrambled into the cockpit. No keys. He yanked open the panel under the wheel, hands slick with sweat, and found the right wires. With a quick twist, sparks flew and the engine roared to life.

Dean’s eyes were wild, red with anger. “Don’t just stand there! Go after him! Track his signal! I want him dead! Dead and sinking to the bottom of the ocean!”

“Yes, sir!” The mercenaries scrambled for the other boats and sped off into the night.

Dean stood alone on the dock. The wind whipped around him, but it did nothing to cool his rage. He turned back, walking through destruction. The garden he’d designed for Emmy, filled with camellias and roses, the swing on the beach, every piece of beauty he’d made for her—ruined. The villa was worse. Bullet holes everywhere. Scarred walls. Shattered furniture. Even Emmy’s old room was wrecked.

Dean clenched his fists so tight he could hear his knuckles crack. Anger burned in his chest, leaving him hollow and aching. He walked down the steps, each one heavier than the last, and finally sat, lost in the darkness, swallowed up by shadows and regret.