Chapter 130: Died because of Me

Mike’s body jerked violently from the impact and then went limp, slumping against the couch as blood spread in a dark, crimson pool across his chest. His eyes—once filled with pain and desperation—glazed over, losing their light.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe, my entire world collapsing around me. This can’t be happening.

“No!” I screamed. My body moved on instinct, rushing toward Mike, but one of Armand’s men blocked my path, shoving me back with brutal force. I hit the floor hard, gasping as pain shot through my spine.

Tears burned in my eyes, blurring my vision as I stared at Mike’s lifeless form. He was gone. I had failed.

Armand lowered the gun, his face devoid of emotion as he glanced down at Mike’s body like he had just swatted a fly. His vengeance was complete, and in that moment, I knew—he wouldn’t stop with Mike. I was next.

But I couldn’t let it end here. I wouldn’t. My hand slid to my waist, feeling for the knife still hidden beneath my clothes. I had one last chance, one final move to make.

The fight wasn’t over. Not yet.

“You’ll regret all this!” I hissed through clenched teeth, my body trembling with both fear and fury.

Armand’s lips curled into a twisted smile as he yanked me to my feet. “Don’t get me wrong, Rose,” he said his voice smooth and calculated. “I was just helping you—helping you get free of a man like him.” His grip tightened on my arm, the chill of his words cutting deep.

Before I could respond, the sharp gunfire shattered the air, the noise deafening. It came from outside, and the door burst open as one of Armand’s men stumbled in, his face pale with panic. “There are cops everywhere!” He shouted. He barely had time to finish before a bullet tore through him, and he dropped to the floor just feet from where I stood.

“Cops?! ”Armand spun, his eyes wide with disbelief. “How did this happen?” His voice rose in anger as he bolted to the window, his gun raised. He didn’t waste a second, firing off rounds into the chaos outside.

I didn’t hesitate. With Armand distracted, I crawled to Mike, ignoring the searing pain that pulsed through me. His body was heavy and limp, and every movement felt like dragging the hardness of my failure with me.

The sound of gunfire was relentless, echoing through the house as I pulled him inch by inch toward the kitchen.

“Come on, Mike, stay with me,” I whispered frantically, my hands shaking as I fought to shield him from the violence erupting around us.

Just as I reached the kitchen doorway, the front door crashed open again—this time it wasn’t one of Armand’s men. Armed police stormed in, their guns drawn, and shouting commands. One of them spotted me immediately and rushed toward us.

“Move away from him!” The cop shouted; his grip was firm but not unkind. “We need to get you out of here, ma’am.”

I resisted for a moment; my eyes locked on Mike’s still form. However, the stark truth dawned on me abruptly—he had vanished, and I had no control over it.

The officer tugged me toward the door, guiding me through the chaos. As we moved, I glanced back one last time at Armand, still firing out the window, defiant and enraged. His fate was sealed. The cops had surrounded the place.

As we stepped outside, the fresh air hit my face, and it was then that the weight of everything finally lifted. I was saved.

Another round of gunfire erupted. Amid the chaos, a scream cut through the noise—it was Armand. The sound was raw and primal, filled with the realization that his end had finally come

I was being pulled farther away from the house, but I couldn’t stop myself from glancing back. In the briefest moment, I caught sight of him through the window—his body jolting as bullets tore into him, one after another. He staggered, his once-confident posture crumbling; defiance showed from his face.

Time appeared to slow down as he collapsed, his shape twisting grotesquely, almost like a puppet with its strings severed. His arms flailed for balance. He slid backward, out of sight, and vanished from the window as the bullets destroyed him.

His body danced a macabre rhythm as death claimed him, the violence of his downfall an eerie contrast to the power he’d wielded only moments before.

And then, silence.

As we moved away, the last image of him lingered in my mind—his final, futile struggle as everything unraveled.

I knew, as I was pulled into safety, that it was all finally over with the Triple King gang. But the scars would remain.

The cops escorted me into a van, where Jacob waited for me. Jacob's arms wrapped around me the moment I stepped inside, drawing me into a tight embrace as if I had been gone for years.

“Rose,” his voice was thick with emotion, his body trembling slightly against mine. “I was so afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”

Tears welled up and fell freely down my cheeks as I melted into his hold. The weight of everything that had happened seemed to fade in that moment. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe.

“We need to get out of here,” Jacob whispered, guiding me towards his car, but I stopped short.

“Wait,” I said, my voice shaky. “Mike, I need to see his body. He died because of me.”

Jacob’s expression darkened, and he hesitated. “The cops will keep us updated about everything,” he said, his voice steady but firm. “Let’s leave it to them for now. Once things settle down at the crime scene, we’ll go back.”

I wanted to protest, but the exhaustion was overwhelming. Nodding, I let Jacob take me to a hotel in the nearest town. The room was quiet, an eerie contrast to the chaos of the night. The warm bath felt like a small blessing, washing away the grime and the edge of the fear still clinging to me.

Jacob had left me to freshen up, promising to check on Lily’s whereabouts himself. I was anxious, the thoughts of Armand’s gang, of Lily, and of Mike swirling in my mind.

At midnight, the door creaked open, and Jacob stepped in, his movements quiet, deliberate.

I sat up in bed, my heart racing. “What happened?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Where’s Mike? I need to give him a proper funeral.”

Jacob’s face softened, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “It’s all being taken care of,” he said, sitting beside me. “The police are still investigating. They’ve confirmed the head of the Triple King Gang is dead, along with five of his men.”

“And Lily Brinson?” I pressed, needing to know.

He shook his head. “No word on her yet.”

I bit my lip, the urge to know what happened to Mike gnawing at me. “I want to see Mike. I owe him that.”

Jacob’s brow furrowed in confusion.