Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Brant

I arrived at the club. As I stepped inside, I went straight to the bar, where a lady was standing.

"Call Leslie," I said.

"Sir, you can go straight to her bedroom," she replied in a calm tone, trying to show me respect. But I didn’t need any of that right now.

"You think I don’t know? But instead, I told you to call her. So go, call her," I said with a stern voice. I really didn’t want to be annoyed; I might snap, and nobody would like that.

She hurried off toward the stairs.

If Leslie had texted me to come, it had to be something important. Despite what she’d done, I knew it must matter. An important message from Leslie was different from her constant calls. As I waited, I tried to block out any thoughts about Sable, filling my head with nonsense instead.

Leslie finally came downstairs toward me. "You know you can come to my bedroom, right?"

"Not interested in visiting my ex-bitch," I replied.

"You can always find this ex-bitch of yours on all fours in her bed," she shot back. "Come with me."

"What’s so important that it’s a matter of life and death?" I asked, following her.

"You’ll see for yourself, and you’ll see that I always keep my promises, even if it takes a long time," she said.

We went down to the basement. Against the far wall, I saw a man tied up and gagged, his head slumped forward. He looked like he was drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness, or maybe he was just trying to close his eyes. His chest rose slowly, so I knew he was still breathing, his wrists raw from struggling. The dim light cast jagged shadows across his face, but something about him felt… familiar.

Was I going crazy, or did I already know this man?

Leslie came out of her office with her laptop in hand. I hadn’t even noticed she’d gone in; my eyes had been locked on the man.

She stood beside me, logging in.

"Remember the man who hit you with a bike and pulled out a silver gun, aiming at your leg?" she said.

How could I forget that? I’d been crossing the damn road that day after receiving a package, and he came out of nowhere, slamming into me. I was lucky the road was almost empty, just a few vehicles in the distance. Then, to my surprise, instead of aiming for my skull, he’d aimed for my leg.

But before he could pull the trigger, Leslie had stepped out of the car with her own silver gun. He froze. He couldn’t do it, and then bolted, barely dodging her bullet by inches.

She snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Done remembering?" she asked.

I nodded, my gaze dropping to her laptop. On the screen was CCTV footage Leslie had her men retrieve. I’d never seen it before, but she’d told me about it and promised, in the heat of passion, that she’d find him. That’s one of the things I like about Leslie: she always kept her promises. Important promises.

The footage showed me and the man. He hadn’t even been wearing a mask, holding his gun as Leslie appeared in the frame. It was a bit blurry and distant, but as she zoomed in, the face became clearer.

Damn… it was the same man tied to the wall. I glanced from the video to him, back and forth.

"It’s him, Brant," Leslie said with a smile. "I paid someone to track him down. It wasn’t easy. It was hard, but we finally found him."

"The motherfucker!" I spat. "Have you questioned him? Who the fuck sent him?"

"He refuses to talk," she said, moving to set her laptop down on the table.

I walked up to the man and ripped the gag from his mouth. Then I slapped him hard across the face to wake him up. His head jerked, and his eyes fluttered open, only to widen in fear when he realized who was standing in front of him.

Yeah… that’s how it should be. I’ve already got plenty planned to make him talk. I’m done being the calm guy; it doesn’t even suit me, to be honest. Does it?

I turned to Leslie. "Have someone bring me the tools. This guy needs to talk. I want to know who sent him to make me a cripple."

A huge smile spread across her face. She must’ve been loving this—my darker side breaking through. And why wouldn’t it? What if this bastard had decided to aim at someone I love instead… my brothers, Marirose, Dani, Sable? I didn’t even want to think about it.

She slipped her hand into her jeans pocket while I turned back to him.
"Who the hell sent you?" I barked.

His jaw muscles tensed, and he pressed his lips together as if sealing the words inside, refusing to speak. His eyes stayed locked on mine, cold but shaking ever so slightly—a pathetic mix of defiance and fear.

Well. He’s left me with no choice. If he won’t talk now, what I have planned will make him talk, right before he dies.



Sable

I was by the pool doing what I love most—and yes, you guessed it—I was reading one of my nursing course books. I’d just had a talk with the head nurse at the hospital: we’d soon be taking some kind of exams. I couldn’t afford to fail. I knew I had a lot going on, but I promised myself that in between everything else, during my free moments, I’d carve out time to study. Failing was not an option.

A glass of juice suddenly appeared in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. When I looked up, it was Marirose.

"I thought you’d need this," she said, setting the glass on the small table before sitting across from me.

"Thank you," I replied.

"You’re welcome… I hope we’ll continue to be friends," she said.

I nodded. Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with someone like Rosie? She wasn’t my only friend, but she was the kindest soul I knew, kind in a way that feels rare in this world.

"Rosie… we’ll always be friends. I mean, look at us—even after we stopped being roommates and I came here, life still brought you back to me."

She smiled softly. "So tell me about Joss… you’re his girlfriend now. Congratulations on giving your heart another chance," she said.

I smiled back.

"Look… I know you never truly loved my brother. You were only with him because you were grateful, even though he led you into a dangerous life. But you shouldn’t love someone out of gratitude. Gratitude is about appreciating what someone’s done for you, but love… love is about deeply connecting with who they are. If your feelings are only based on gratitude, they’ll fade once the debt feels repaid, and that’s not the foundation for a healthy, lasting relationship. When that happens, resentment grows, intimacy fades, and both people end up feeling lonely, trapped, and unfulfilled, all while losing the chance to find someone they truly love—and who truly loves them back."

I just stared at her, dumbfounded—not because I disagreed, but because her words hit home in a way I didn’t expect. They weren’t just true; they were my truth. And they’d been true long before today. Joss and I no longer had intimacy… I just faked it.

My damaged heart twisted in my chest, heavy with a mixture of guilt and relief. And now, with her words, my heart was beating harder, demanding to be heard.

She wiped her tears and gave me a small smile. "So… I’m happy for you, Sable. It’s difficult to find someone we love, and even harder to be loved in return. When it happens, hold onto it, protect it, and never take it for granted—because love like that is rare. And it’s even rarer to be loved wholly and without conditions. That’s the kind of love worth fighting for, the kind that makes all the wounds and scars feel like they had a purpose."

I stood up abruptly.

"Where are you going? Is it something I said?" she asked.

"No, Marirose… thank you. Truly. But I need to go somewhere," I said. I didn’t just start walking away—I practically skipped. My heart had made the decision for me, and when your heart calls, you don’t keep it waiting. I knew exactly where I needed to go, before it was too late.