Chapter 162 The Proof on the Glass

Chapter 162 The Proof on the Glass
Smack!

The boss struck his subordinate's wrist with a flat, heavy slap.

BANG!

The stray bullet blasted straight into the concrete floor, tearing a chunk out of the gray tiles. Sparks flew into the dark, and the black handgun spun across the wet floorboards, clattering against the foot of an empty stool.

Zarik spun around on his boots, his shoulder hitting the edge of the wooden booth.

Behind the bar counter, the young bartender threw himself onto his hands and knees, covering his head with his hands.

"Drop your weapons and back off!" Zarik shouted, his voice echoing off the brick walls. "Stay right where you are, or I will call the police right now!"

The three armed men stood frozen in the center aisle, their eyes darting between the dropped gun and their leader. None of them moved. None of them understood why their own boss had just knocked a clean shot off course.

The gang leader did not look at his men. He stepped over the broken glass, his hands hanging loose near his waist as he stared at Zarik.

"Who are you to the lady?" the boss asked, his voice low and raspy.

Zarik did not step back. He stood tall, his knuckles white at his sides.

"She's my girlfriend," Zarik fired back. "What business is that of yours? Who are you?"

A limp hand shoved against Zarik's back from inside the booth.

Chloe stumbled out into the aisle, her feet catching on the edge of the leather seat. Her hair fell in a messy tangle across her face, and her eyelids drooped as she pushed his arm away.

"What girlfriend?" Chloe slurred, waving her limp wrist in the air. "Who said that?"

She shook her head, leaning heavily against the wooden partition.

"I don't have a boyfriend," Chloe muttered, her words thick with alcohol. "Leave me alone."

Zarik caught her by both shoulders before her knees could give out. He turned her body around, forcing her face up toward the dim amber lights.

"Chloe, look at me," Zarik said, his tone tight with frustration. "It's me. Stop talking."

Chloe blinked up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes, but no recognition crossed her face. She let out a soft groan, her chin falling back against her chest.

Zarik slid his right arm around her waist, hauling her heavy frame against his side. He turned toward the exit, preparing to pull her up the stairs.

CLACK.

The gang leader pulled his heavy black pistol from his waistband, raising the barrel straight at Zarik's chest.

"Who said you could leave?" the boss said, his voice flat.

The three thugs behind him traded confused looks. The oldest man stepped up to the leader's shoulder, his fingers twitching over his holster.

"Boss, what are you doing?" the thug hissed under his breath. "That is the target from the transfer. Take him down."

The leader ignored his man completely. He did not blink.

"The lady just denied knowing you," the boss told Zarik. "She said you are not her boyfriend. So why should I let you walk out that door with her?"

Zarik held Chloe tighter against his ribs. "She drank too much alcohol. You can see that."

"I don't care how much she drank," the boss replied, his finger resting on the trigger. "Prove she belongs with you right now, or I burst your brain on this floor."

Zarik stared down the dark metal barrel. The cold certainty in the man's eyes made it clear he was not joking.

"Don't do anything stupid," Zarik said, keeping his movements slow.

He reached into his jacket with his free right hand.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," the oldest thug warned, raising his fist.

Zarik pulled out his smartphone. He tapped the screen with his thumb, selected Chloe's contact, and hit the call button.

Across the aisle, the small phone sitting on Chloe's empty table buzzed against the wood.

The device lit up with bright white letters, ringing loudly through the quiet basement.

"Her phone is right there," Zarik said, breathing hard. "My number is calling her device. That proves I know her."

The boss did not lower his gun.

"That proves you have her phone number," the boss said, shaking his head. "Any stalker can buy a phone number. That is not proof she is your woman."

Zarik's jaw tightened until his teeth hurt. He swiped across his screen with shaking fingers, opening his private photo library.

He found a saved photo and shoved the glowing screen directly in front of the leader's face.

"Look at it," Zarik demanded.

The photo showed Zarik and Chloe standing together on a sunlit street corner, smiling into the camera. His arm was wrapped around her neck, and her hands rested on his chest.

The boss stared at the picture on the glass.

His eyes moved from the photo to Chloe's slumping head, then back to Zarik's tense eyes.

The leader slowly lowered his weapon. He clicked the safety on and slid the gun back under his leather coat.

"Boss!" the oldest thug shouted, his face full of disbelief. "What are you doing? We already confirmed the bounty funds! We have to kill him!"

"Shut your mouth," the boss growled, turning a cold glare on his crew. "Put the guns away. We are going back."

"Are you serious?" the thug argued, stepping forward. "The client will come after us if we fail this contract!"

The boss grabbed the thug by his collar, dragging his face inches from his own.

"I said we are done," the boss snarled, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper. "Do not question my orders again, or I will put a bullet in your head myself."

The three men shrank back, completely silenced by their leader's fury.

Zarik did not waste another second. He gripped Chloe by the waist, lifted her stumbling feet off the floor, and dragged her up the concrete stairs into the street.

\----

A sharp, throbbing ache tore through Chloe's skull.

She let out a dry groan, pressing her palm against her forehead as she tried to block out the morning light. Her mouth felt dry, and every tiny movement sent a spike of pain through her neck.

She moved her legs under the blankets, expecting the familiar softness of her own bed.

Instead, her bare skin brushed against thick, cool silk.

The faint scent of fresh jasmine and polished cedar drifted into her nose, entirely different from the familiar smell of her own apartment.

Chloe forced her heavy eyelids open.

She looked up at a massive, vaulted ceiling with clean wooden trim. Floor-to-ceiling glass doors opened onto a private stone balcony surrounded by green trees. Expensive leather chairs and clean marble tables filled the vast room.

She stared around the space in complete shock.

"Where is this?" Chloe whispered, her voice rough and dry.

She pushed herself upright, bracing her weight against the soft mattress.

As she looked down at her body, her breath caught in her throat.

Her black work dress was gone. Her stockings and her jacket were completely missing. She was dressed in a soft, loose set of white silk loungewear that she had never seen before in her life.

A wave of cold anxiety rushed through her chest.

Her hands flew to her collar, checking the buttons in a panic. She had no memory of leaving the bar. She had no memory of anyone touching her clothes or bringing her into this strange house.

Her eyes darted across the room, searching for any sign of her things.

On the polished wooden nightstand beside the bed, her black leather handbag sat next to a tall glass of cold water.

Her smartphone lay right beside the glass, its screen completely dark.

Chloe lunged across the mattress, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal frame of her phone. She pressed the power button with a shaking thumb.

The screen flashed to life, displaying the bright morning time.

Right beneath the digital numbers, a long column of urgent notifications filled the glass.

Twelve missed calls.

Chloe stared at the screen, her heart beating fast against her ribs.

Every single missed call came from the exact same caller.

Zarik.