Chapter 87: The Tipping Scale

Emily's grip on her rifle tightened the air in the corridor felt suffocating, every muscle in her body wound tight as she stared at Victor Hale. 

Alive. Standing in front of her with that knowing, infuriating smirk.

Beside her, Damien bristled, fingers twitching toward his sidearm. 

Reyes didn't move, his sharp eyes darting between Lena and Hale, reading the room, weighing the danger Voss stood rigid, his jaw clenched.

Lena, however, was the enigma in the center of it all.

Her expression was unreadable, but there was something in her posture—an uncertainty Emily hadn't seen before.

Hale took a slow step forward, hands at his sides, exuding a calm confidence. "It's good to see you again, Emily I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."

Emily leveled her weapon at his chest. "I should put a bullet in you right now."

Hale chuckled, unbothered. "Oh, I don't doubt it. But we both know you won't."