Chapter 175
Chapter 175:
Amid the wreckage, Cole moved like a storm made flesh. He seized a wounded man who was crawling across the blood-slick floor. Fury burned behind his eyes. “Talk,” he said, yanking the man up. “Where did you kill Elliana?”
Terror washed over the injured man. His pain was nothing compared to the fear clawing at him. One look at Cole’s face told him this wasn’t someone he could lie to. “I—I didn’t do it!” the man gasped, eyes wide with panic. “She was taken to the fifth floor, that’s all I know. If she’s dead, it must’ve happened there!”
Without another word, Cole shoved him aside and turned toward the stairs. Five full levels stood between him and the answers he needed. Black-clad mercenaries were sure to be lurking on every floor. Charging headfirst meant walking straight into the line of fire. Escaping by air would’ve been the smarter move. Discover more novels at.net
But Cole had no intention of running. No matter the risk, he needed to see the truth with his own eyes. Even if Elliana was already gone, her body thrown into the ocean, leaving him with nothing but bloodstained memories, he had to go to the place where she might have taken her last breath—and drag the truth out of whoever he found there.
Myles, Aron, and Hugh didn’t say a word. They’d known Cole since they were kids. They could read his silence better than words, and they stuck to him like shadows.
Allan, Merlin, and Manley followed as well. None of them questioned Cole. Not one of them flinched.
Among them, Merlin moved with a focused calm that bordered on excitement. Five years buried in the world’s deadliest corners as part of a special ops unit had rewired something deep inside him. The thrill of violence, the scent of danger—it all felt like home. If it weren’t for his family dragging him back to inherit a legacy he never asked for, he’d still be out there chasing chaos.
By the time the group reached the second floor, they were met with exactly what they expected—a wave of armed men storming into view. Gunfire erupted in an instant, loud and chaotic.
From somewhere above, another volley of shots rang out, this time echoing from the fourth floor.
Dodging behind cover, Manley edged closer to Merlin and muttered, “You hearing that? There’s a whole other fight breaking out upstairs. Could there be others opposing Merritt besides us?”
𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝗻
Merlin didn’t answer right away. He paused, tilted his head slightly, and listened through the gunfire. “Can’t say for sure,” he replied. “But we’ll know soon enough.”
With that, they pushed forward, rejoining the fray without missing a beat.
After a punishing series of attacks and counterattacks, they finally brought down the last of the black-clad men on the second floor. Bodies littered the floor as the group moved up to the third floor. Gunfire still thundered above, steady and relentless.
“Listen up,” Merlin said, tightening his grip on his weapon. “That shooting sound coming from upstairs? Whoever’s up there isn’t just some hired gun. That’s a professional. Someone rare. Someone dangerous.” His voice dropped to a serious tone. “Don’t let your guard down. We’re not the only wolves in this fight.”
Five years as a global special forces operative had honed Merlin into a weapon—one who had faced elite killers without flinching. He moved like a shadow, struck with the force of a sledgehammer, and left only silence in his wake. When Merlin called someone dangerous, it meant they weren’t just tough—they were the stuff of nightmares.
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