Chapter 35 Blood on White Shoes

Chapter 35 Blood on White Shoes
Everything happened at once.
“No—!” Olive screamed.
Dexter lunged. His body slammed into Leo’s path—and then fell.
Right at Olive’s feet.
Blood splattered across her white shoes.
For a moment, Olive couldn’t breathe.
Then she screamed—raw, broken, animal.
“Dexter!” Leo dropped to his knees, hands pressing hard against the wound, his voice cracking for the first time. “Stay with me—stay with me!”
The Master tried to lift his gun again—
Another shot rang out.
One of Leo’s men fired without hesitation.
The Master’s body went still.
Finally.
Silence fell again—but this time, it was heavy. Final.
Olive stood frozen, staring down at Dexter’s unmoving form, blood pooling beneath him, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.
Leo slowly looked up at her.
His eyes burned with fury, grief, and something dangerously close to guilt.
She had just watched a man die protecting him.
Protecting her.
And in that moment, Olive understood with painful clarity—
There was no turning back from Leo’s world anymore.
Dexter lay on the ground, barely breathing.
Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth with every shallow gasp. Leo was on his knees beside him, hands pressed hard against the wound as if sheer force—and stubborn will—could keep life from slipping away.
“Dex… don’t you dare,” Leo said, his voice breaking despite his effort to keep it steady. “You’re not dying here. I’m taking you to the hospital—now!”
He looked up and roared at his men, the sound cutting through the chaos. “Get the car ready! We’re moving him—now!”
Dexter’s hand shot up weakly and clutched Leo’s sleeve.
Leo froze.
Dexter coughed violently, blood spilling over his lips. “Boss…” His voice was barely more than breath. “Don’t.”
Leo shook his head, refusing to hear it. “Stop talking. Save your strength.”
Dexter’s grip tightened for a moment—surprisingly strong. His eyes locked onto Leo’s, clear despite the pain. “I’m… thankful,” he whispered. “For letting me serve you.”
Leo swallowed hard. “You’ve done enough. You’ve done more than enough.”
Dexter smiled faintly, the smallest curve of his lips. “My mission’s done.” Another cough wracked his body. “I’m… ready.”
Leo’s eyes burned. “No.”
“Thank you… Boss,” Dexter murmured.
His hand slipped from Leo’s sleeve.
It hit the ground with a dull thud.
And then—
Nothing.
“No—Dexter!” Leo shook him hard, panic finally breaking through his control. “Dexter! Open your eyes!”
There was no response.
A shout rang out behind them. “Boss! More enemies—!”
Leo’s head snapped up.
From the shadows near the white mansion, figures began to emerge—one after another. Armed. Moving fast.
Chaos exploded again.
Before Olive could even process what was happening, a rough hand grabbed her wrist.
“Come!” one of Leo’s men shouted, pulling her toward a car.
“No—wait!” Olive cried, twisting her head back.
She saw Leo stand, rage radiating from him like heat. The gentleness she knew was gone—replaced by something cold and lethal. A gun appeared in his hand, and without hesitation, he fired.
Shots rang out.
Enemies fell.
More kept coming.
“Retreat!” Leo ordered sharply. “Fall back—now!”
The car Olive was pushed into surged forward first. She twisted in her seat, tears blurring her vision as she searched for Leo.
She saw him sprint toward another vehicle, firing as he moved. One man lunged at him—
Bang. Bang.
The man dropped.
Olive screamed, clapping a hand over her mouth as sobs tore free. Her body shook violently as the car sped away, the forest swallowing the gunfire behind them.
“Oh Lord… oh Lord…” she whispered again and again, unable to stop.
Hours passed in a blur.
The road stretched endlessly beneath the headlights. Olive stared ahead, hollow and numb, her mind drifting in and out—police, death, Leo, her mother—none of it fully forming. It all felt unreal, like her body had survived something her mind hadn’t caught up to yet.
She looked down.
Her white shoes were still stained red.
Her breath hitched. She squeezed her eyes shut and finally broke, covering her face as silent sobs shook her chest.
Then—
The car slowed.
Stopped.
The door opened.
“Miss,” a man said gently. “You can step out now.”
Olive hesitated, fear clawing back into her chest.
Then she saw him.
Leo walked toward her, his presence cutting through the darkness like gravity itself. He waved his man away.
“I’ve got her,” he said.
He leaned into the car, close enough for Olive to see the exhaustion carved into his face—the blood still on his hands, the weight in his eyes.
“It’s safe now,” he said calmly. “You can come out.”
She stared at him, stunned by how composed he looked—as if the nightmare they had just lived through was something he had survived a hundred times before.
Slowly, she took his hand.
When she stepped out, the salty air hit her first.
Waves.
Sand.
She lifted her head—and froze.
They were at a beach.