Chapter 163 CHAPTER 163
The Price of Loyalty
Richard stood outside the police station for a long time, his jaw tight, his hand trembling against the steering wheel. His mind had been at war with itself all day, but the decision he was about to make had been festering inside him for weeks.
Richard leaned forward, his reflection on the windshield fractured under the dim yellow glow of the streetlight. He could see his guilt in his eyes, the kind that came from betraying someone he once called a friend. But he told himself again what he’d been repeating all evening, It’s not betrayal if it’s to save my blood.
He killed the engine, grabbed his coat, and stepped out. The police station was almost empty, save for a few officers typing away behind the counter. A coffee mug sat abandoned near a pile of files, the smell of burnt caffeine lingering. Richard’s boots echoed against the tiled floor as he approached the desk.
A stocky officer with a tired face looked up. “Evening. Can I help you?”
Richard hesitated. His throat was dry, his palms clammy. “I… I have information. About someone you’ve been looking for.”
The officer frowned slightly. “Name?”
“Ethan.”
That name drew a reaction. The officer straightened. “The one involved in the illegal trade and assault cases?”
Richard nodded. His stomach turned as he did. “Yes. That one.”
The officer gestured toward an inner office. “Wait here.”
Within minutes, Richard was ushered into a smaller room. A detective entered, a man in his forties with a graying beard and a no-nonsense stare. He placed a recorder on the desk between them.
“Start talking,” he said.
Richard sat down, his fingers tightening around the armrest. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, every thud reminding him that once he spoke, there was no going back.
He took a slow breath. “Ethan is staying at the Riverstone Apartment, top floor. He’s been laundering money through a fake import business. And I know… he’s got weapons stored in the basement unit, two floors down.”
Across town, in a different world entirely, Ethan was in his apartment, a whiskey glass in one hand, the dim glow of the TV flickering across his face.
He leaned back, smirking faintly at his own reflection in the windowpane. His phone buzzed. A text message flashed across the screen.
Unknown Number: “We know what you did. Tick-tock.”
Ethan frowned, sitting up. He scrolled through the rest of his messages, but there were none. He was about to reply when he heard tires screeching to a halt outside. Then voices, shouts, heavy boots pounding up the stairs.
“What the…” Ethan muttered, grabbing the gun off the table.
He moved to the door, heart pounding, when the first bang came a battering ram slamming against his door.
“POLICE! OPEN UP!”
The second hit shattered the lock. The door flew open and a rush of armed officers poured in, flashlights slicing through the shadows.
“DOWN! HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!”
Ethan raised his gun, half from reflex, half from rage. “Wait! You don’t understand!”
A red dot flickered across his chest. He froze. His mind raced.
He dropped the gun slowly, raising his hands. “Alright! Alright, calm down!”
“On your knees!”
He obeyed, his breathing heavy, his thoughts a blur of fury and betrayal. Cold cuffs bit into his wrists, metal and final.
One officer began reading his rights while another rifled through the room, pulling out files, electronics, and the hidden stash under the floorboard. It was over.
As they dragged him to his feet, Ethan’s eyes caught the shattered remains of a whiskey glass on the floor, reflecting his own face back at him.
He’d always thought he’d go down fighting, never like this, never cornered and exposed. But what burned him most wasn’t the arrest. It was the realization that someone had planned this. Someone who knew exactly where he was and what he kept hidden.
“Who set me up?” he spat as they led him toward the door. “Tell me who did this!”
No one answered. The flashing red and blue lights outside painted the night in chaos. Neighbors peeked through curtains, whispers spreading fast. Ethan’s jaw locked as he was shoved into the back seat of a police cruiser. He turned his head, eyes burning with fury and disbelief.
Back at the station, the same detective received the confirmation call.
“Suspect apprehended. No casualties.”
He hung up, glanced at Richard who was still sitting in the waiting area, his expression blank and haunted.
“It’s done,” the detective said quietly.
Richard’s lips parted, but no sound came out. His vision swam slightly. Ethan was behind bars, Tessa was safe. But he’d crossed a line he couldn’t uncross. He stepped outside, breathing in the cold air. The moon was pale behind the clouds, watching like an indifferent witness.
Richard lit a cigarette, something he hadn’t done in years, the flame trembling slightly in the wind. He took one drag and exhaled slowly, the smoke curling up like ghosts of old sins.
At the police station, Ethan sat behind the bars of the holding cell, the faint buzz of fluorescent light above him. His knuckles were raw from fighting the cuffs, his head throbbing.
When the officer walked by, Ethan lifted his head and said hoarsely, “Who told you where to find me?”
The officer didn’t answer. He just gave a faint smirk and walked off. Ethan’s jaw tightened. He leaned back against the cold wall, his mind replaying every face he’d seen in the last month. Ethan’s hands curled into fists.
He laughed bitterly to himself, low and sharp. “You sold me out for money, didn’t you?” he muttered under his breath. “For money…”
His laugh faded into silence. The night carried on. The city’s hum swallowed his voice, and somewhere, in the distance, the faint echo of sirens faded into nothing.