CHAPTER 0119
JULIAN’S POV
I continued to follow her into a narrow hallway that led to the back of the church. The air was thick with dust and the scent of candles. Her footsteps echoed ahead of me, quick and panicked. She glanced over her shoulder just once, eyes wide and filled with something between fear and fury. Then, without hesitation, she shoved open a creaky wooden door and disappeared behind it.
The basement.
I didn’t slow down. I chased her down the cold stone steps, each step echoing like a countdown. My heart pounded in my chest–not just from the adrenaline, but from the intensity of the moment. This might be the last chance we have to bring her in.
The basement was colder, darker. A maze of dimly lit hallways, flickering bulbs overhead, and storage rooms with half–open doors. The smell of mold clung to the damp walls. I slowed my pace slightly, my breath steadying as I moved deeper in, my ears straining for any sign of movement.
Then I heard it. A faint sob. It echoed down the hall like a ghost.
I followed the sound carefully, turning a corner and stepping lightly, my instincts sharp. That’s when I saw her–standing in the candle storage room, her back to me,
shoulders shaking slightly. The glow of a single candle gave her silhouette a strange softness.
“Don’t move,” I said, breathing heavily, my voice calm but firm.
She spun around instantly. And what I saw next shocked me.
In her hand was a gun. Small. Black. Deadly. So that was what the priest had handed her earlier during their quiet exchange. I cursed under my breath. I should’ve known.
“Stay the fuck away from me!” she snapped, pointing the gun directly at my chest, her arms extended but trembling.
I raised my hands slowly in surrender, trying not to provoke her. “Emma… you don’t
have to do this. Just calm down and let’s talk.”
Her eyes glistened with a mixture of fear, guilt, and raw desperation. Her grip on the gun was unstable. Her fingers twitched, but I could tell–this was new to her. She wasn‘ t trained. She had probably never fired a gun in her life.
“You would rather kill a human being than just make a small confession?” I asked her, inching slightly closer without making it obvious.
She laughed bitterly. “Do you have any idea how much he paid me to do what I did? Because of him, I was finally able to quit my miserable reporter life. I started a
CHAPTER 0119
business. I bought peace for the first time in years. And news flash–I’ve spent every single cent he gave me.”
Her voice cracked then, and her hands shook more violently. “You want me to come clean? That I set up that woman under his orders? What do you think a billionaire like him would do when he finds out I duped him? Because that’s basically what you’re asking me to do.”
I kept my eyes on her finger, watching it twitch dangerously near the trigger. One wrong move and this could end badly.
“I’m not your enemy, Emma,” I said softly. “You made a mistake. But you don’t have to make another.”
For a second, I thought she might lower the gun. But then, her eyes hardened.
I saw her hand twitch, the slight squeeze of her index finger.
She was going to pull the trigger.
“You’re not getting away,” I continued as we began to walk back up the steps. “So I suggest you cut it with the lies and the crying, and start cooperating before things get even worse for you.”
As we climbed the stairs back to the main church, she scoffed bitterly. “You think you‘ re going to just walk out of here with me? You’re delusional. Your friends were outnumbered. They’re probably dead by now. And when we get up there, my men are going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”
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