Jackson settled deeper into his chair, gripping his phone tightly as he tried to steer the conversation with his "brother" back on track. The other alpha’s voice was calm, but Jackson could sense a slight detachnt, a hint of disinterest that gnawed at him.
"You’ve always been the talented one," Jackson praised, hoping to spark so engagent. "Resourceful, sharp. I’ve always admired that about you."
"Flattery, Jackson? That’s a new one," the "brother" replied, his tone amused but distant.
Jackson forced a chuckle. "Not flattery, just the truth. Look, I’ve got a proposition, sothing that could benefit both of us. I think you’ll want to hear out."
There was a pause on the line, and Jackson’s anxiety spiked. The silence felt like an abyss, and he was desperate to bridge it.
"You’ve always been full of ideas," the "brother" finally said, but his tone carried a hint of reluctance. "What’s different about this one?"
Jackson leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "This one’s big. I can’t discuss the details over the phone, but it’s a ga-changer. I want to et you, talk face-to-face."
Another pause, longer this ti. Jackson could feel his heart pounding, every second stretching into an eternity. Then he heard a faint noise in the background, the sound of a door opening.
"Hold on," his "brother" said abruptly. "Soone’s here."
Jackson heard muffled voices on the other end, a brief exchange that he couldn’t make out. Then his "brother" returned to the line, his tone curt. "I have to go. We’ll talk later."
Before Jackson could respond, the line went dead. He stared at his phone, the dial tone buzzing in his ear. The abrupt end left him shaken, a mix of frustration and unease bubbling within him. But he forced himself to stay composed.
Jackson leaned back, exhaling slowly. I have to trust him, he thought, clinging to the belief that his "brother" wouldn’t betray him. Yet, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered doubts he couldn’t entirely ignore.
______
Noah ended the call, his fingers lingering on the phone as he stared at the door. Clair entered the room quietly, her presence filling the space with a mix of curiosity and concern. She leaned against the doorfra, arms crossed, studying Noah’s expression.
"Are you serious about helping Jackson?" Clair asked, her tone cautious but probing. She had heard parts of the conversation and knew sothing more significant was brewing.
Noah looked up, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m serious," he replied, a teasing glint in his eye, "but not in the way you’re thinking."
Clair arched an eyebrow, pushing off the doorfra and stepping closer. "Then what are you thinking, Noah?" Her voice was steady, but Noah could detect the underlying worry.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. "I’m thinking about justice," he said, his tone shifting to sothing more serious. "About making sure everyone pays what they owe. Jackson thinks he’s untouchable, but he’s just another piece in this ga."
Clair sighed, moving to sit opposite him. "Noah, we’re already in deep. What if we’re doing too much? What if this backfires on us?"
Noah’s smirk faded, replaced by a hardened look. "Clair, we’ve co too far to back down now. Jackson, his mother, Daniel—all of them have their hands in things they shouldn’t. They’ve hurt too many people, including Anabella. I’m not about to let them get away with it."
Clair nodded, though the worry didn’t entirely leave her face. "I just don’t want us to lose sight of why we started this. It was about helping Anabella, about righting the wrongs done to her."
"And that’s exactly what we’re doing," Noah assured her. "Anabella deserves to live without fear, without these people controlling her life. We’re leveling the playing field."
Clair leaned back, contemplating his words. "Do you think Jackson suspects anything?"
Noah shook his head. "Not yet. He’s too focused on his own sches to realize he’s being watched. But we’ll need to be careful. We can’t let our guard down."
Clair watched Noah for a mont, admiring his resolve even as her own apprehensions lingered. "And what about Anabella? How do we keep her safe while we deal with this?"
"We keep her close," Noah said firmly. "She’s stronger than she knows, but we’ll be her shield until she’s ready to stand on her own."
Clair smiled faintly. "You’ve got a soft spot for her, don’t you?"
Noah chuckled, the tension in the room easing slightly. "She’s worth it. And so are you, Clair. We’re in this together, rember?"
Clair reached out, squeezing his hand. "Together."
Noah stood, the weight of their mission pressing on his shoulders but his resolve unwavering. "Let’s finish this. It’s ti to turn the tables."
Clair nodded, rising to join him. "Let’s make them pay."
______
Anabella felt as if her days were blending into one another, each one an indistinguishable repetition of the last.
The hum of the bakery, the clatter of utensils, and the scent of freshly baked bread were constant, but they no longer brought her the sa comfort. She moved through her tasks chanically, her mind clouded with the weight of her worries.
Despite feeling drained, Anabella refused to miss work. The thought of stopping, even for a day, seed unbearable.
If she stopped, she feared she might break, succumbing to the overwhelming tide of her emotions. So, she pushed herself harder, arriving early and leaving late, hoping to lose herself in the rhythm of her work.
Her manager, a kind and observant woman, noticed the changes. Anabella’s usually vibrant deanor had dimd, and her smiles were now rare and forced.
The manager approached her gently one afternoon, her voice filled with concern.
"Anabella, can we talk for a mont?" she asked, gesturing towards a quiet corner of the bakery.
Anabella looked up from the dough she was kneading, her expression tired but resolute. "I’m fine," she said quickly, wiping her hands on her apron. "Just a little tired, that’s all."
Reviews
All reviews (0)