Chapter 147 

I sobbed then. 

Not loud or dramatic or wild like bawling my eyes out which very much would have fit this situation. Just quietly, like someone who knew there was no one left to hear it. 

I didn’t know what I expected from the guard. 

Maybe silence. Maybe footsteps walking away. 

But what I didn’t expect was his voice soft, and hesitant from the other side of the door. 

“You’re not the only one who’s tired.” 

I blinked. 

The voice was closer now, like he’d crouched down too, speaking through the door like it was the only thing keeping us from crumbling together. 

“I have a daughter,” he said. “Her name’s Amara. She’s six. Got her mom’s eyes but my temper.” 

I wiped my face with trembling fingers. I didn’t dare interrupt. 

“I used to work construction,” he continued, his words slow, raw, like peeling off something he’d hidden for too long. “Back- breaking, minimum wage, nothing to show for it but bruises and sore ribs. Then the company shut down. Left me out on the street with a sick wife and a baby who needed food.” 

He exhaled hard, like the memory still sat heavy on his chest. 

“Mikael found me one night,” he said. “Said he had work. Said I could earn real money. Fast. ‘Just security, he promised. No blood. No risk.” 

There was bitterness in his tone now. 

“But the money came with rules. Guns in my hands. Orders I didn’t question because I had mouths to feed. By the time I realized what I’d gotten into, it was too late.” 

I rested my head against the door, listening, holding onto every word like a lifeline. 

“I may look young,” he said after a pause, “but I’m not. Years on the street age you faster than time ever could. I’ve seen things I wish I could forget. Done things I hate myself for. But I stayed because I thought… maybe one day I’d save enough to start over. Move away. Buy my little girl a house with a real yard. Let her have a swing set.” 

Another beat of silence. 

“And now I’m just praying I get to see her again.” 

I felt something break inside me. 

He wasn’t a monster. 

Just a man. 

A father. 

Trapped like the rest of us. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.” 

He didn’t respond right away. When he did, his voice was quieter. “You were singing about your mom.” 

“Yeah,” I said softly. “She used to sing that when the world felt too loud.” 

“She sounded like a good woman.” 

“She was,” I whispered. “She died trying to protect me. So did my dad. And after them, I got sick. Cancer. Stage two. But I fought. Got through it. Alone.” 

I could feel him listening. Not judging. Just… there. 

“And then I ended up here,” I said bitterly. “Held hostage again by people who call this power.” 

I hesitated–then looked back at the hole I’d dug, the one that let me hear Nico and Mikael’s plans. 

“I heard them,” I said, lowering my voice. “Earlier. Through the floor.” 

The guard didn’t answer. But I knew he was still there. 

“They’re planning to kill one of you,” I whispered. “Stage it. Make it look like Dominic’s men did it during the rescue. Then leak it to the press, get the police involved. Blame everything on him. Turn the world against him.” 

Silence. 

Then: “What…?” 

Chapter 147 

“They want to use one of the quards as a martyr,” I repeated, more firmly now. “Someone loyal. Mikael thinks it’ll rally the others. Make Dominic look like a monster.” 

His breath hitched. 

“They said a name. Raul. Said he was reckless. Loud. That he’d be easy to use” 

“Raul,” the quard echoed, voice hoarse. “That’s that’s his cousin.” 

My stomach turned. 

This wasn’t a game to them. It was a stage. And the players were all expendable. 

“I don’t know who you are,” I whispered. “But I know what it’s like to be caught in something you didn’t choose.” 

There was a long pause. 

Then he spoke again. 

“My name’s Elias.” 

he gave me his name. He was trusting me. 

1 blinked surprisingly and smiled a bit. 

“I’m Aria,” I said. 

He let out a quiet breath. “I know.” 

“I’m not asking you to save me,” I said. “But if there’s a way… if you can get a message out. Warn them. Warn him.” 

I didn’t say Dominic’s name. I didn’t have to. 

“I don’t want more blood on the ground,” I finished. “Especially not someone else who’s just trying to get home.” 

Elias didn’t answer right away. 

But I heard the shift in his breathing. The weight in it. 

Then softly, he said, “I’ll try.” 

Not a promise. Not a lie. Just quiet, honest hesitation from a man being torn in two. 

I sat in the silence that followed, letting the words settle. I didn’t push. I couldn’t. That kind of fear, the kind that grips your chest and reminds you you’ve got something to lose–it doesn’t disappear just because someone tells you to do the right thing. 

And I knew he had something to lose. 

A daughter. A future. A second chance he hadn’t even reached for yet. 

The shuffle of his footsteps moved away. 

Then nothing. 

I curled up, closing my eyes, trying to breathe through the ache in my ankle and the sharp twist of hope in my chest. 

But it wasn’t over. 

I had one shot. And if Elias didn’t come through, I needed a backup. 

So I waited. 

Counted time by the way the shadows moved across the floor. 

When the door creaked again, I opened my eyes. 

It wasn’t Elias. 

It was another man. One of Mikael’s regulars. Bigger, broader. He looked at me like I was a pile of laundry someone left in his hallway. 

“Boss wants you cleaned up,” he grunted, stepping inside. “You’re not dying today. So quit looking like it.” 

“Does he know I can’t walk?” I asked, voice flat. 

He didn’t answer. Just dropped a small kit bag onto the ground. “Fix yourself up, or don’t. No one gives a damn.” 

He turned to leave. 

“Wait.” 

He paused, barely glancing over his shoulder. 

I forced myself upright. Pain shot through my ankle, but I gritted my teeth and leaned on the wall. “You think Mikael’s going to let you walk away from this when it’s over?” 

That got him. A twitch. A flicker in his expression. 

Chapter 147 

“I heard him last night,” I said carefully. “He and Nico. Talking. Planning. You’re not part of the plan.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered. 

“I do,” I said. “They’re going to kill Raul. Frame Dominic. Use the fallout to bring the city to its knees. Then take the empire for themselves.” 

He turned to face me fully now. Still scowling, but I had his attention. 

“And the guards?” I asked. “The ones who followed orders? Who stood outside these doors and did their jobs?” I tilted my head, eyes locked with his. “They’re pawns. Disposable.” 

He didn’t move. 

“You think they won’t throw you to the wolves the second it gets messy?” I said. “You think they’ll let you walk out, go home to whatever life you had before this?” 

Still, he stayed silent. 

“Elias,” I said quietly. “He told me the truth. He didn’t choose this life. Just like you. You’ve all been lied to. Mikael doesn’t care who gets buried, as long as he’s the last man standing.” 

A muscle in his jaw ticked. 

And then, slowly, he shut the door behind him. 

“Say I believe you,” he said, voice low. “Say I believe Mikael’s about to screw us all. What am I supposed to do about it?” 

“Help me get out,” I said, breath catching. “Let me go. Or better–help me send a message. Dominic doesn’t know what’s coming. You do. You can stop it before it gets worse.” 

He shook his head. “If I let you go, and I’m wrong, Mikael kills me before you even make it to the road.” 

“If you stay, he’ll kill you slower,” I whispered. “You heard about Raul, right? Who’s next? Do you really think Nico’s not feeding your name into the fire the second it benefits him?” 

He hesitated. 

“I don’t even need much,” I said quickly. “Just a radio. A burner. Something I can use to reach out. You don’t have to smuggle me out yourself. Just give me a crack to move through.” 

The man stared at me, as if weighing the worth of his soul. 

And then, finally, he exhaled. 

“I’ve got a kid too,” he muttered. “Little boy. Still thinks I’m a truck driver. I haven’t seen him in two years.” 

My chest squeezed. 

“I didn’t come here to die,” he said. “Didn’t come here to be used either.” 

He looked at me then–really looked–and nodded to himself. 

“I’ll give you one chance,” he said. “If it backfires, we both die.” 

I nodded slowly. 

He stepped toward the door. 

“I’ll leave something under your mattress later tonight. Small, old And untraceable. You get one message. One.” 

I held back the sob that clawed up my throat. 

“Thank you,” I whispered. 

He didn’t answer. Just left. 

Thank you for believing me. At least things were working in my favor a bit.