Chapter 161
The bullet tore through Sawyer's shoulder, kicking up a mist of blood.
He let out a low grunt, staggered back a few steps, and clamped a hand over the wound. Hot blood surged between his fingers, soaking his suit jacket red in seconds. His men instantly raised their guns, all of them aiming at Jacob.
Jacob's people rushed forward too, and the two sides squared off, the tension in the air so thick, it could be sliced with a knife.
Sawyer lifted his hand, signaling his men to stand down. He looked at Jacob and unexpectedly laughed.
That smile was soaked in sick, twisted madness. "Mr. Smith, aren't you afraid I'll detonate the explosives?"
Jacob stared at him, his eyes as cold as ice. "You can try."
Sawyer's smile deepened. He raised his hand and made a small gesture. Outside, the helicopter suddenly lurched violently. It swayed in the air like some drunk giant bird, veering left and right, its rotors screaming in protest.
Then it began to drop, plunging straight toward the open ground beyond the estate.
Flames roared up into the sky as the explosion hit, the blast so loud it rattled the bones.
The banquet hall windows shattered, glass raining down like a storm of razor-edged drops. Guests shrieked and ducked, covering their heads, cries, curses, and frantic prayers tangling together into one messy roar.
For the first time, Sawyer's face changed.
He stared at the blazing fireball outside the window, then looked back at Jacob. "You—"
"You really thought I'd just sit here and let you throw a tantrum?" Jacob's voice was flat.
Sawyer's pupils tightened.
Jacob finally let himself breathe.
From the second the helicopter appeared, he hadn't been idle for even a moment.
Tina's disappearance had been a counterstrike. A laser to blind the pilot, damage to the tail rotor—while everyone's attention was locked on the standoff in the banquet hall, Jacob's people had already, quietly and precisely, taken out the biggest threat.
Jacob had never been afraid of staring down death. But with Elizabeth there beside him, he didn't have that kind of courage anymore. Only when the threat of dying was truly off the table did he let himself look at Elizabeth, a rush of delayed terror washing through him as he did.
Sawyer suddenly laughed again, but the sound was different this time. It held a sense of release, a hint of appreciation and a faint thread of regret. "Jacob, you really are something."
Jacob didn't respond. He just lifted his gun again, this time aiming straight between Sawyer's brows.
Sawyer didn't flinch, he didn't even blink.
He stood there with blood still seeping from his right shoulder, staining half his suit a dark, sticky red.
He looked at Jacob, , a faint smile still playing on the corner of his mouth. There was no trace of panic in his expression, nor any sign of a man cornered with nowhere to run. He only showed a disturbingly calm resignation.
"Last words?" Jacob's voice was cold enough to burn. "Say them."
Sawyer looked at him and let out a soft sigh. "Jacob, you're not going to pull the trigger."
Jacob's finger rested on the trigger, absolutely steady. "You can test that theory."
Sawyer smiled. In that smile was a certainty that was hard to name, but impossible to ignore, "I know you won't. Because you know very well that if I die, that precious son of yours won't be coming back."
Jacob's pupils shrank. "What did you say?"
Right then, Leon's voice burst through the earpiece, urgent and tightly controlled. "Mr. Smith, Jack is gone."
Jacob's breath stalled for a heartbeat. His finger was still on the trigger, but his knuckles had gone stark white.
Elizabeth stood just behind him. She over heard the faint, distorted sound from his earpiece, and the color drained from her face in an instant.
She rushed forward and grabbed Jacob's arm, her voice shaking. "What happened? What's wrong with Jack?"
Jacob didn't answer. He just stared at Sawyer like he was the only thing in the room.
Sawyer looked back at them, his grin deepening. Slowly, he lifted his uninjured hand and gently nudged the barrel of the gun away from his forehead. Jacob didn't stop him.
"Elizabeth." Sawyer fixed his gaze on her, his tone soft, coaxing, as if he were trying to soothe a startled child. "Your son is adorable. I had someone take him to Italy for a few days. Don't worry. I'll take very good care of him."
Elizabeth became instantly pale, the color draining from her face.
She stared at Sawyer—at his casual, almost bored expression—and her whole body started to shake.
"Sawyer!" Her voice broke out of her in a near scream. "Jack isn't my son! What's the point of taking him?!"
Sawyer froze for a second. He looked at Elizabeth, then at Jacob, confusion flickering in his eyes.
"Not your son?" he repeated, like he needed to confirm he'd heard right.
"No." Elizabeth bit out each word. "Jack is Jacob's kid. I don't share any blood with him. Taking him doesn't give you any leverage over me."
Sawyer went quiet for a moment. Then, suddenly, he laughed.
The sound carried a meaning that was impossible to pin down.
"Elizabeth," he said softly, "you really don't know?"
A heavy weight dropped straight through her chest. "Know what?"
Sawyer didn't answer her, he turned to look at Jacob instead.Jacob stood there, his expression back to its usual icy composure, but Elizabeth could feel it—the faint tremor in the hand holding the gun.
"Mr. Smith," Sawyer said, his tone tinged with a lazy amusement, "you never told her?"
Jacob said nothing.
Sawyer's smile sharpened. "Jack is Elizabeth's biological son. You really didn't know that?"
Elizabeth's mind went blank with a loud, hollow buzz.
She stood there, rigid, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her from head to toe. She looked at Sawyer, then at Jacob, her lips trembling, she was too overwhelmed to speak.
"What did you say?" When she finally spoke, her voice was so hoarse it was barely audible.
Sawyer watched her, something like pity flickering in his eyes.
"Elizabeth, when you were eighteen, someone drugged you. You got pregnant. That child is Jack. Jacob has known this all along."
Elizabeth swayed where she stood. Jacob reached out to steady her, but she jerked away from his touch, stepping back and pinning him with a stare that felt like it could cut. "Is it true?"
Jacob was silent for a long time. Long enough that Elizabeth started to believe he'd never answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. "It's true."
Her tears came all at once.
She thought of that small, timid boy, of the way he'd look up at her with those clear, earnest eyes. He called her "Mom," the word slipping from his mouth so naturally, so full of trust and need. She'd always assumed it was because he was starved for affection, because Jacob had taught him to say it. It had never even crossed her mind that he really was her child.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice shook uncontrollably. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
Jacob looked at her, pain flooding his eyes. "Elizabeth, I—"
"Because he doesn't deserve to." Sawyer's voice slid between them, laced with a light, mocking edge. "Jacob, you're the one who made her carry that child alone back then, made her bear all that pain and humiliation on her own. Tell me, what right do you have to tell her anything?"