BANG!
Brad froze. His face slowly crumpled as he looked down at his chest. Blood quickly soaked his shirt from within, crawling like spider webs across the fabric.
BANG!
The second bullet struck his hand, making him drop his weapon. Slowly, he turned toward the source. Through his blurred vision, he first caught the smoke rising from a handgun’s muzzle.
And then, he saw her. The one holding it was...
Penelope Bennet.
BANG!
The third shot hit him again, and this ti, he was not sure where. Brad collapsed backward with a loud thud. His fall felt slower than it should, with pain blooming from his chest and hand, spreading through his entire body.
’Damn you, Shawn...’ he cursed internally, before finally hitting the floor.
THUD.
"Ugh..." he groaned, clutching at his chest—or rather, sowhere near his armpit. But the pain had already spread across his shoulders and down to every inch of him.
anwhile, Penny sat up, panting. The gun in her hand trembled. She swallowed hard, then locked eyes with Shawn.
Regret still flickered in his gaze, but despite the sharpness in her own, she gave him a small nod.
---
[A short flashback]
"This ti... I might kill you right here and now. The code."
A heavy silence settled between them. A gun pressed against her forehead. Shawn was looking down at her sternly. Yet Penny showed no fear.
How could she, when the one holding the gun was trembling—more afraid of pulling the trigger than she was of dying?
"I don’t have it," she said calmly.
"You have it," Shawn muttered, voice low but firm. "I know... because Zoren Pierson handed it to you."
He nodded slightly toward the corner. "I wiretapped this place. Listened to all your conversations."
Penny exhaled and gave the smallest nod.
"The code. Now," Shawn repeated, his hand shaking.
Another long silence followed, making his chest swell with tension.
"Now!" he shouted.
Still, Penny didn’t flinch. She just stared back at him. After a beat, she finally spoke.
"I’ll give you the code," she said. "But Shawn... after working for , you should know the thing I hate most—betrayal."
"You’re asking not to make you pull the trigger? That’s the wrong thing to ask."
She relaxed her posture slightly.
"It should be: don’t make hate you for this betrayal... Shawn Lowie."
Because she had been betrayed once before. No—she had been betrayed all her life, right from the beginning. She wouldn’t allow it to happen again.
Penny knew she wasn’t perfect. And she might not be able to forgive this ti around.
"Don’t make accept this betrayal," she whispered, each word razor-sharp. "Don’t."
Shawn’s breath hitched. The gun shook in his hand. The corners of his eyes reddened, his already broken resolve crumbling further.
’I don’t want you to hate ,’ his heart scread.
But his mouth wouldn’t move.
Penny stared into his soul, reading him like an open book. Maybe it was because she’d spent so much ti around inmates in her past life—she knew how to read what the heart said, not just the words the mouth spoke.
Not everyone in that hellhole wanted to be there. She wasn’t saying they were innocent—but so had simply made a terrible, stupid mistake. And a single mistake had ruined their whole life.
Right now, the man with the gun... wasn’t pointing it at her.
He was pleading.
Save .
Help .
Please...
That’s what his eyes said.
So how could she fear him?
Penny exhaled deeply and then finally, made a move.
In a flash, she disard him. Snatching the gun in the blink of an eye, the muzzle now pointed at him.
Her sudden movent snapped him out of it. His hands shot up on instinct.
"I told you," she said calmly. "You’ve worked for long enough to know—don’t give a chance. I’ll take it. No matter how small it is."
Shawn took a cautious step back, eyes fixed on her, then on the gun. He gulped. But oddly, even now, with the gun aid at him... he felt relieved.
"Kill ," he whispered, eting her eyes again. "If you don’t... one of us will die. The other will be left broken."
Slowly, he dropped to his knees. Hands raised at his sides.
"Please."
Penny kept her eyes on him, pistol steady.
"Please," he repeated, voice softer. "Don’t give the chance."
Silence.
Penny didn’t move as her gaze briefly swept the room.
"Where did you plant the device?" she asked, eyes flicking back to him.
This ti, Shawn said nothing. Head down. Hands still raised.
"Please..." His lips quivered. "I was—"
Clang.
His words died in his throat when sothing slid across the floor near him. He looked—and his brows shot up.
It was the gun. The sa gun he’d used to threaten her. The one she had just taken from him.
Now... it was lying there within reach.
His eyes went wide, and his gaze snapped back to her.
"What are you—" he stopped.
She was back in her chair, slouched, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Fuck..." she muttered, peeking at him through one eye. Her expression was exasperated. "Stupid."
"??" Confusion clouded Shawn’s face.
Penny rested for a second, then pushed herself up with a sigh, hands planted on her desk.
"You’re a real idiot, Shawn."
She studied the train wreck kneeling just steps from her desk.
"Like I said, you’ve worked closely with . You know what I like. What I hate. My schedule. The people I pretend to like. The ones I really can’t stand."
"And by now, you should’ve learned how to ask the right questions and requests."
Another sigh escaped her.
"Idiot. Don’t ask to kill you—that’s the wrong question. It’s just plain wrong. Ask ..."
She paused, pressing her hands to the desk again. Then she picked up the book Zoren had given her and tossed it.
It landed right in front of him.
"...ask if I’d cross the line for my people."
"You already know the answer to that," she said, voice softer now, watching as a single tear rolled down his cheek.
"I’d even cross Satan if he ssed with —or my people."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"You are one of them... aren’t you? Or are you not?"
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