Chapter 62 Fake Your Death

• Zade sat on the cold stone steps of the hotel, his body trembling under the weight of the evening's events. The police interrogation had been an excruciating ordeal, tearing at his very soul. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to force the words from his throat, his voice raw and trembling as he recounted the unbearable truth. His chest had ached with the effort not to shatter, not to break down in front of the officers who looked at him with both suspicion and pity.
• Now, the crowd that had gathered to gawk at his misery had dispersed, leaving behind an eerie silence. Strangers had moved on, returning to their lives, blissfully untouched by the chaos that had ripped his world apart. Zade sat there, broken and alone, his clothes stained and disheveled, his face streaked with the remnants of tears that refused to fall anymore.
• The police had dragged Dain away, his rival's fury evident in every fiber of his being. Dain had looked ready to pounce, to rip Zade apart, but Zade barely noticed. His body was present, but his mind was elsewhere—lost in a storm of grief and despair.