Chapter 344
Dallas opened the car door. He stepped out. The brace whirred, locking his knee into place. He stood tall, the rain soaking his black trench coat.
He walked toward the red container. Each step was a monumental effort, sending jolts of agony up his leg and tunneling his vision, but he forced himself forward. He didn’t limp. He marched.
Simmons blew the lock. The doors swung open.
Estevan Norton was huddled in the corner, clutching a suitcase full of cash. When he saw the silhouette in the doorway — tall, imposing, deathly still — he screamed.
Dallas stepped inside. The metal floor rang under his boots.
“Going somewhere, Estevan?” Dallas asked. His voice was calm. Terrifyingly calm.
He gestured with his chin.
“I heard you like to break things,” Dallas said, as two of his men grabbed Estevan and forced him to his knees. “Let’s see how you like being broken.”
𝗠oѕ𝗍 𝗋еа𝘥 t𝘩𝘪𝘀 𝘸𝗲𝗲𝗄 оո ga𝗹𝗇𝗈v𝘦𝘭ѕ.с𝘰m
The inside of the shipping container was damp and smelled of rust and fear. Estevan scrambled backward, kicking through piles of dirty clothes, until his back hit the cold metal wall.
“Stay back!” Estevan shrieked, holding up his hands. “I have money! I can pay you!”
Dallas didn’t stop. He walked until he was standing directly over the cowering man, then leaned against a steel chair for support — a subtle movement that betrayed the immense strain he was under. He sat down, the hydraulic brace whirring softly as he bent his leg.
“Simmons,” Dallas said, not taking his eyes off Estevan. “Play the tape.”
Simmons stepped forward and held up a tablet. He pressed play.
A woman’s voice, sharp and unmistakable, cut through the sound of rain outside.
“Estevan is a liability. He’s sloppy. If he gets caught, cut him loose. Tell the police he acted alone. I need to protect Cathey’s inheritance. He’s just collateral.”
Estevan went still. His mouth hung open. “That’s — that’s Dosha.”
“Your beloved sister,” Dallas said. “She sold you out, Estevan. She gave me the container number. She gave me the time. She traded your life to keep her name out of the investigation.”
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“No,” Estevan whispered, tears mixing with the grime on his face. “I did everything for her. I killed for her!”
The silence that followed was heavy. Dallas leaned forward.
“Who did you kill?”
Estevan looked up, his eyes wild with betrayal and panic. He realized he had said too much, but the dam had broken.
“The old man,” Estevan blurted out. “Ferd’s driver. The crash ten years ago — the one that killed Azalea’s grandparents? It wasn’t an accident. Dosha told me to cut the line. She thought Ferd was in the car. She wanted the inheritance early.”
Dallas felt a cold chill spread through his veins. He had blamed himself for that mission. He had thought it was bad luck, an ambush. But the rot had started here, at home.
“And Eliza?” Dallas asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “The brake line on her racer?”
.
.