Chapter 238
Wesley
One by one, they stepped away from me. Created a corridor between me and the waiting police officers.
Only Miles remained. He stood at my side, his gun still raised, his body positioned between me and the rest of the room like a human shield.
"Boss," he said quietly. "Go. I've got your back."
I stared at him. At this kid who'd followed me into hell without question, who was now willing to die so I could escape.
"Miles," I started, but he cut me off.
"Go!" he shouted. "Now! Before Felix—"
"Before I what?" Felix interrupted smoothly. His gun was still trained on me, but his eyes... his eyes were full of dark amusement. "Before I stop him from running away again? Before I prevent another one of his pathetic attempts at redemption?"
# Revised Passage
He took a step closer.
"You've spent your entire life as someone's tool, Wesley. Someone's weapon. Someone's disappointment. Don't you see? Everything you've done tonight—it's not heroism. It's guilt. Lance and Serena have played you like a fiddle, and you're too stupid to realize it."
My jaw tightened. I kept my expression flat, but something uncomfortable twisted in my chest—a feeling I couldn't quite name. It wasn't doubt. Couldn't be doubt. I'd made my choice.
He gestured casually with the gun.
"Come back to our side. Help us eliminate the real threat—Lance. Do that, and I'll forget everything that happened here tonight."
The offer hung in the air. I could see Arthur watching me, waiting for my response. Could feel the weight of every eye in the hallway.
I told myself Felix was full of shit. Told myself I knew exactly what I was doing and why. But that uncomfortable feeling in my chest spread, creeping into my throat like smoke I couldn't quite swallow down.
I started backing away. Slow steps. Careful movements. My heel found the edge of the corridor that led to the service passage—the same hidden route we'd used to break in.
Felix's smile widened. "Running away again? Of course you are. That's all you know how to do. Run, fail, try again, fail harder." He laughed. "I can see it on your face, Wesley—that little flicker of doubt. You're already wondering if I'm right, aren't you?" He shook his head mockingly. "But here's the thing, nephew. I gave you a warning earlier, remember? I told you to kill me when you had the chance."
He paused, letting the tension build.
"Because if I get another opportunity?" His lips moved silently, forming words only I could see: I'll kill Serena.
Something cracked inside me.
I lunged forward, every rational thought evaporating in a wave of pure rage. I didn't care about the guns. Didn't care about the police. Didn't care that somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice was whispering that Felix was right—that I was still the same impulsive fool who let people pull his strings.
All I cared about was making him hurt.
"Boss!" Miles grabbed my arm, yanked me back hard. "Don't! He's baiting you!"
But I was already halfway gone. My vision had narrowed to Felix's smug face. My hands were reaching for his throat.
The police started moving toward me, hands reaching for cuffs and weapons.
"He's going to kill her," I heard myself say, and my voice sounded distant, detached. "Miles, he's going to—"
"I know." Miles's grip on my arm tightened, forcing me to look at him. "I know, Boss. But this? This is what he wants. You charging in like a maniac, getting yourself killed or arrested. Then who protects her?"
The words cut through the haze, but barely. My whole body was vibrating with the need to do something, anything. That uncomfortable feeling from before had turned into full-blown panic, confusion, rage—all of it tangled together until I couldn't tell which emotion belonged to me and which had been planted there.
"Don't let him live in your head," Miles said, his voice urgent now. "You're not doing this to make up for the past. You're doing it because it's who you are now. Who you choose to be."
I stared at him. At this kid who somehow saw through all my bullshit to something I wasn't sure existed.
Felix's laugh echoed down the hallway. "Look at him, Arthur. Still weak. Still pathetic. Still—"
Miles raised his gun.
"Boss," he said quietly. "Go."
The gunshot answered every question I'd been too afraid to ask.
Felix's eyes went wide with shock as the bullet caught him square in the chest. He staggered backward, blood blooming across his expensive shirt, and collapsed against the wall.
"Miles!" I shouted, but he was already moving.
He shoved me hard, sending me stumbling toward the back hallway.
"Keep being yourself, Boss!" he yelled over the chaos. "You're the only man I've ever looked up to! Don't let anyone beat you down!"
Then he turned toward the police and opened fire.
The hallway erupted into chaos. Muzzle flashes lit up the darkness. The sound of gunfire was overwhelming, disorienting.
I ran.