Chapter 130. The Watcher

"Please... just put the gun down," Jared pleaded, his voice jagged and desperate. “We can talk about this. We can work something out."

He was so close, yet so far from Myla. His hands were trembling so violently that he could barely keep his balance. She was on the ground a few feet away, frozen, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Jared was a man who had survived the horrors of war. He had been a prisoner of war, enduring days of starvation and torture in a damp, dark cell. He had faced death a hundred times and never blinked. But at that moment, looking at the masked figure aiming a weapon at Myla’s head, Jared was more terrified than he had ever been in his life.

The man in the bucket hat did not move. The face mask hid his expression, but his eyes were visible: cold, sharp, and filled with a terrifyingly focused hatred. What kept Jared still was how steady Kessler’s finger was on th