Chapter 139 The Breaking Of Chains
- The heavy steel door shut behind them with a resonant clang, muting the thunder of Bryan’s last stand. The safe room smelled of leather, polished wood, and faint cigar smoke.
- Behind his mahogany desk, Horace froze mid-gesture. His brows knit in surprise, but only for a heartbeat. Then came that familiar gleam — cold, razor-sharp, knowing.
- “Pathetic,” he hissed.