Chapter 892:
Admiration stirred in Arion, unexpected and brief. As the door shut behind him, he looked up—and met Wesley’s gaze, sharp as polished blades.
That glare didn’t just chill the air. It locked up Arion’s nerves and sent a jolt down his spine. His gaze dropped before he even realized it. There was no mistaking that stare—deadly and territorial. He had merely glanced at Elena before Wesley’s eyes pinned him with a silent command: Stay away.
Arion silently vowed to keep his eyes off Elena from now on—not even a passing glance.
Though the engine roared and the car surged forward, Earle wasn’t giving up. He called in every available Shadow assassin—more than before.
Taking charge without hesitation, Arion directed one unit to cut them off while Lydia slid into the other vehicle.
Seconds before the convoy broke free of the compound, Elena placed her hand on Wesley’s arm. “Bring back Casper’s body.”
Wesley turned to Arion, who answered with a sharp nod. “Consider it done.” Once hailed as the best in a world-class mercenary force, Arion had lost everything when his team betrayed him. Wesley had pulled him from the edge of death, and since that day, Arion had followed Wesley without question. When matched against Shadow’s less-skilled assassins, Arion tore through them like a wrecking ball through drywall.
Abyss Cell had always operated in the dark, never showing their full strength. But now, they’d revealed just enough to shatter Shadow’s spine.
On Earle’s face, a pulsing vein betrayed the fury rising beneath his skin. His response came as a jagged, humorless laugh. He’d never once suspected that Wesley had been hiding a weapon with that much bite. If it weren’t for Elena, that power might’ve stayed buried forever.
Meanwhile, tires screeched down a stretch of private road before the car rolled to a halt at a hidden airstrip.
Wesley kept Elena’s hand in his as they climbed the steps to the jet. Not once did he loosen his grip, and she made no move to pull away.
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The silence between them was deafening. Elena’s face gave away nothing, her eyes dull beneath the weight of her lashes.
Though worry tugged at Wesley, he said nothing. He stayed silent all the way through the flight.
By the time they landed, he brought her straight to his place.
Elena sank onto the couch without a word. Wesley remained standing, unmoving, watching her like he was trying to read a blank page. Had he known what those children would come to mean to her, he wouldn’t have taken her to that island. His expression darkened. “The boy’s gone. Is this all you’re going to do—just sit there, silent?”
Elena finally looked up, but her eyes were empty, drained of everything. She didn’t need to be told again. She already knew.
The moment she tried to rise, Wesley pressed her back down onto the couch. He gripped her wrist. “I told you I’d take care of it—and I will. But don’t shut down like this.”
Wesley meant his words. Earle’s death was already written in stone. That much he’d promised. But out of everything, her silence—cold and absolute—was what cut the deepest. He preferred that she scream to let off her steam. He closed the space between them, his lips skimming hers as he whispered, “Still furious? I’ve got a remedy for that…”
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