Nathan's hand trembled as he lowered the gun, his breathing ragged. His eyes locked onto Grayson's, who smirked despite the tension, the barrel of his own gun aimed squarely at Nathan's chest.
"I thought you were dead," Nathan said, voice hoarse, struggling to mask the uncertainty clouding his thoughts.
Grayson's smirk widened, his grip steady. "Someone else thought that too. But you see, Nathan... I'm hard to kill." He tilted his head, voice dripping with mockery. "And you? Still the boy trying to play hero." He said with a smirk on his face.
Scarlett stiffened behind Nathan, her fingers curling into fists. "We're done running, Grayson! Let us go—" she snapped angrily.
Grayson barked a bitter laugh. "Oh, I don't think so. Not after everything your family cost me." His gaze flicked toward Isabella, bound and struggling against her restraints, her lip split and bruised from Nathan's earlier blow.
