THE COST OF A GAMBLE.

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Chapter 57 – The Cost of a Gamble.

Vincent didn't hesitate.

Didn't stop to think.

He just moved.

His knife was in his hand before anyone could react—flashing in the dim light, a blur of silver slicing through the air.

The gun at Cain's temple—gone.

Cain reacted instantly, elbow slamming into his captor's ribs, twisting out of reach.

Gunfire erupted.

Zane shoved Vincent aside, narrowly dodging a bullet meant for his skull. "This is the stupidest plan you've ever had!"

Vincent didn't argue.

Because he knew—

It wasn't a plan at all.

It was desperation.

Cain ripped a pistol from a fallen guard, eyes sharp, movements ruthless. "We need to move—now."

Zane fired a warning shot toward the door. "No shit, genius! You think I like being shot at?!"

Lancaster hadn't moved.

Hadn't even flinched.

Just stood there—watching.

Waiting.

And then—

He laughed.

A slow, mocking sound that sent a chill down Vincent's spine.

"You always disappoint me," Lancaster murmured, shaking his head. "All this effort—just to lose anyway."

Vincent clenched his teeth. "We're not losing."

Lancaster sighed. "Aren't you?"

And that's when Vincent felt it.

The shift in the air.

The weight of something wrong.

A sharp click behind him—

And then—

Pain.

Searing, burning pain tearing through his side.

Vincent staggered.

Zane's eyes went wide. "Vincent—!"

Lancaster just smiled. "Checkmate."

Vincent hit the ground.

Blood. Too much of it.

Zane was there in an instant, panic sharp in his voice. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Cain's expression darkened. "We need to get him out of here."

Lancaster tilted his head. "Pity. I really thought you'd put up more of a fight."

Vincent gritted his teeth, vision blurring. "Go to hell."

Lancaster chuckled. "Already there."

Zane fired wildly at the guards closing in, grabbing Vincent's arm. "Get up."

Vincent's head spun. His body wasn't listening.

Cain grabbed his other arm, practically dragging him forward.

The exit—so close.

Vincent tried to move.

Tried to fight.

But his body—

His body had already betrayed him.

And Lancaster?

Lancaster just stood there—smiling.

Because he knew.

Knew that this time—

Vincent wasn't walking away unscathed.

This time—

Vincent had lost.

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