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Immediately after Mr. Smith said this, Isabella remained silent. Everything that came out of her mouth was the sound of her heavy breathing and her enduring pain."Medical assistance is needed," one of the SWAT team members said immediately via the radio on his shoulder.As if the paramedics had been waiting to be called, it was not up to ten minutes before they were summoned. They came to provide the necessary medical aid to Isabella.In this sense, the paramedics began applying direct pressure to Isabella's wound. After making sure she was okay, they immediately carried her to the emergency van parked at the exit of the 40th building.As Isabella was being taken away on the stretcher, four of the SWAT team members took the elevator down to the exit of the 40th floor.If that were all, it was a lie. The four officers of the SWAT team also followed them to the hospital, where Isabella would receive adequate medical care.In the same manner in which Isabella was taken away, the rest of
Not responding to any further questions, Mr. Smith walked toward the fancy car he had driven to the 40th-story building earlier and slipped inside it. Without any delay, the car's engine roared to life, and he sped away.At the hospital, it would be an understatement to say that Mr. Smith wasn't tired of the different reporters who had crowded the hospital entrance. Once again, as he stepped out of the car, each of them rushed to him like bees swarming a freshly bloomed flower. Their questions buzzed around him with relentless curiosity, even before they thrust their microphones toward his mouth."Mr. Smith, do you think Sophia Markwood will survive this gunshot?""We heard the gunshot hit her directly through the heart. Is she dead, isn't she?""What will Ethan do to Isabella Rosewood for killing her own daughter?""What do you have to say about all of this?""Do you think Isabella Rosewood will be sent back to prison?""How did Isabella Rosewood even get out of prison?""Mr. Smith,
It had been two days since Ethan had given Mr. Smith the order to bring the two women to him, and he had been searching all through the city for the mentioned two women, like a needle in a haystack.From the video that had been shown to Ethan, he had printed out their pictures on paper and had gone to the 40th-story building again to verify with the residents living there.However, upon reaching the building, he noticed that the building itself had been cordoned off by the police, and hence, there was no entry, which might interfere with their investigation.In a similar manner, he saw that all the residents in the building had been instructed to vacate until the investigation was fully conducted and finalized.However, this didn't mean that he gave up on his search. He knew that he could not return to his master without the women he had requested.To this end, he showed pictures of these women to every passerby on the street and asked them, "Do you know any of these women?" However,
Upon reaching Ethan Mark's mansion, the two old women, who had indeed followed Mr. Smith, realized that it was the burial service for their daughter.In this setting, a few people were present at Ethan's mansion, each of them dressed in dark suits and dark glasses, with dark hats for the females. They all had reddish eyes, symbolizing their grief over the murder of their precious daughter.In a similar manner, these two old women spotted Ethan Mark and Emily Collins at the front of this small gathering, dressed just like them and with reddish eyes, displaying their grief over their daughter's murder."I hate to see a young child being buried. That's why that person must pay for her sin," one of the old women exclaimed."Yes, Maria, she must pay for her crime. Killing an adult is an unforgivable crime, let alone a child. By the way, how old was the innocent child, Mr. Smith?" The other old woman asked However, if Mr. Smith were to answer the question, it would be a lie. At this moment,
"Everything that was said was recorded on Mr. Smith’s phone, and for this, Ethan thanked them for their cooperation in helping him find his daughter’s murderer. “Thank you, both of you. You have helped me to a great extent in finding out who murdered my daughter. For this, you will be well compensated and protected because, who knows, they might come for you.” As Ethan said this, he turned a sidelong look at Mr. Smith, who indeed understood what he meant immediately without words. Hence, at this moment, he gently placed his hands on the earpiece nestled in his ear and said, “Bring the cash to the stone bench.” As he said, if it took up to five minutes, it was a lie. Another of Ethan Mark's guards came right to them, dressed in the same fashion as Mr. Smith, and hence bowed to Ethan Mark. From his suit inner pocket, he took his hand and retrieved two bundles of dollars. Each bundle contained ten 100-dollar bills. “Here is one thousand dollars for each of you. Take it, and an addit
"Isabella Rosewood," Isabella answered softly and almost immediately. As she answered, Detective Sharon continued her interrogation like a seasoned professional, never wavering in her pursuit of the truth. Hence, she maintained a calm and confident demeanor, carefully choosing her words to extract vital information from Isabella. "Who are Ethan Mark and Sophia Markwood to you?" Detective Sharon asked once more. "Ethan Mark is my ex-husband, and Sophia Markwood was my daughter," Isabella answered with full cooperation. "So, what were you doing at the penthouse atop the 40th-story building? Is there a family gathering going on there that we do not know about?" "No," Isabella said. "We were there to position ourselves in the right spot to take a shot at Ethan Mark," Isabella said. "You used the word 'we.' Who was there with you?" Isabella took a deep breath, fully aware that revealing Mr. X's identity was dangerous, judging by the organization he worked for. However, the guilt of
"And you think I don't know that?" Attorney Hughes said "Everything you said to them will be used against you in court." Don't you know that, and you just shot yourself in the leg?" Attorney Hughes said once more. "Court?" Isabella asked, and then a smirk faded from her face. "Yes, the court. You might probably be arraigned in court in a few days or hours. So, I need you to cooperate with me so that you do not get locked up for the rest of your life. Even if you get locked up at all, your years can be lessened. Do you understand?" "How do you find happiness defending someone who just murdered her own daughter, Mr. Attorney?" Isabella looked at attorney Hughes, her gaze on him growing tougher, as if she were a tiger ready to devour her prey. "How do you not want me to pay for the murder I have committed? Who are you?" Isabella raised her voice. Her calm temperament suddenly changed, and she seemed as if she were gnashing her teeth in horror at the attorney. It didn't mean that att
The next day arrived quickly, as if it had been waiting for Isabella all along to be revealed as the murderer of her child. Hence, it was rightly said that the news of Isabella's arrest for the crime of murdering her own daughter easily spread like wildfire.Everyone in Eldridge, HavenBrook, and the remaining parts of the country already knew what Isabella had done. Nevertheless, if they felt any empathy for her, it was a lie. In light of this, the different media outlets of the press house were found at the entrance of the police station, where Isabella was to be questioned before being arraigned in court. Consequently, everything was being televised live on screens, billboards, social media, and in broadcasting news."We are live at the Eldridge police station, where Mrs. Isabella Rosewood, the ex-wife of the wealthy and popular Ethan Mark, who killed their child, will be interrogated by Detective Sharon, the head officer in charge of this case. Are you anxious to see what they will
Pushing her back into her prison cell like a reluctant pawn being returned to its square on a chessboard, Isabella fell on the prison floor, resembling a fragile autumn leaf descending with a surrender to the inevitable embrace of the cold, hard ground. No matter how her voice had risen in anger towards her mother in the meeting room, she knew very well that she wanted to read the contents of the letter in the envelope and discover the help Ethan Mark had promised her. "Would he file for my release?" "Has he bought me a home as a sign of my forgiveness?" "Would he take me back as his wife?" Different questions rushed through her mind like a tumultuous river, each query cascading over the other. As she held the envelope in her hand, she sat at the corner of her cell and stared at it much more closely. In this way, she saw that the surface of the envelope bore a faint trace of handling, like a blank canvas marked only by the weight of the untold. She also observed the edges, crisp
As Isabella saw her mother through the glass panel, her eyes first peered at her face, which was fresh and glowing like a sun-kissing morning, radiating warmth and vitality. Similarly, she observed her hair, cascading strands of silk, flowing effortlessly, resembling a gentle waterfall gracing a serene landscape.But if that were all, it would be a lie. She also noticed her dress, which was as beautiful as a field of blooming flowers, each petal a vibrant hue, creating a tapestry of elegance. Likewise, her neck, ears, and wrists were adorned with jewelry, resembling constellations adorning the night sky, each piece a sparkling star in the galaxy of her elegance.Taking in this perfect image of her mother, the thought immediately struck Isabella that her mother's current appearance was the complete inverse of hers—a mess in a uniform and in a confined space, akin to a wildflower struggling to bloom in a cramped garden bed."Been a while," Victoria Sinclair said again, immediately as Is
Like a fish forced to live in the desert for the crime she had committed, Isabella's prison days wove a bleak tapestry of monotony and despair. The cold, unforgiving reality of prison life left her yearning for freedom, with each passing moment feeling like an eternity. The absence of familiar faces and the pervasive loneliness created a profound sense of desolation that permeated every aspect of her existence.Most especially, the daily beatings from her tormentor, Elara Whitewind, resembled an unrelenting storm, leaving Isabella's spirit battered and broken, akin to a shipwreck in the tempest of her despair. This was the reason she wished she had never set foot in the prison yard, mess hall, or communal bathroom ever again.However, whether she wished to visit those places or not, prison protocol had to be followed, leaving her no choice but to be present even in the devil's face if the protocol demanded it.In the dimly lit mess hall, clattering trays and hushed conversations fille
Ethan said nothing in response to Mr. Alexander's words. Instead, as if he hadn't heard him, he seized a seat on the other side of the table and crossed his left leg over his right.Yet, this did not mean he spoke at this moment. The only sound was the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the table, as if he were playing an invisible piano.In this manner, Ethan Mark exuded authority. Gazing calmly from Mr. Alexander's feet to the tangled mess of hair atop his head, he looked at him. With a serenity akin to the gentle flow of the Nile and a voice as soft as a satisfied dove contemplating a defeated jungle lion, he suddenly spoke."Kneel and apologize."Upon hearing these words, Mr. Alexander's eyes widened in shock. He never anticipated a day when he would be asked to kneel and beg for mercy, especially from the person he had always regarded as a poor bastard.Like an enslaved cat in the presence of a lion, Mr. Alexander fell to his knees as Ethan Mark instructed, pleading, "I was a ter
Seeing how bold, tall, and dangerous this prisoner appeared and observing his audacious manner of poking at him was akin to witnessing a prowling lion, confident in its dominance, taunting its prey before the impending strike. Mr. Alexander then immediately turned his back, attempting to escape from this menacing part of the communal bathroom like a startled deer seeking refuge from the looming threat in the dark forest. "I have to run," he muttered in total fright, his voice a tremor in the echoing silence, like a desperate whisper carried away by the chilling wind of impending danger. However, if his intention was for success, it was a futile hope. "And where do you think you are running to, huh?" Another prisoner said this behind him and pushed him forward like a pawn on the unforgiving chessboard of the prison's power dynamics. As Mr. Alexander was pushed forward, he witnessed how the older prisoners immediately surrounded him. He also noticed how they revealed smirks on their c
After speaking for hours, the man who had conversed with him advised Mr. Alexander to get some sleep. He emphasized the importance of having alert eyes to observe any unfortunate events that might occur in the morning. And with that, Mr. Alexander retreated to the corner of his cell once again, burying his head in his ankle like a ship seeking refuge in the harbor of solitude, sheltering itself from the tempest of the prison's harsh reality. He sat on the ground, succumbing to a haunted sleep. *** The next morning revealed Mr. Alexander as a mere specter of resilience, marked by the weariness of a night spent in the clutches of haunted dreams, like a tattered flag fluttering weakly after enduring the relentless storm of a sleepless night. His eyes, burdened with unrest, betrayed the toll of his surroundings. Disheveled strands of hair clung to his forehead, bearing witness to the restless hours entangled in unsettling dreams. As he rose from the dark corner of his cell, his eyes fir
"Long story, man," the man answered. However, if this was all he said, it was a lie. He began to unravel his own narrative, detailing how his legs became amputated and one of his hands irreparably broken and dislocated."You see, I entered this prison as a healthy man. My crimes weren't that significant. I robbed a bank because I couldn't bear to watch my daughter suffer. We hadn't eaten for days, and robbing the bank seemed like my only option." He took a deep sigh and continued talking."Yes, you guessed right. The mission was unsuccessful, and before I knew it, I was completely surrounded by the police. I had no guns, only a knife and a dagger. I never headed to the vault but collected pieces from each person I encountered in the bank. I just wanted to be able to feed my daughter and move on with life the next day.""While being surrounded, there was nothing more I could do than raise my hands in the air and let the police apprehend me. God knows it was the biggest mistake I ever m
Arriving at the prison, Mr. Alexander saw how the prison walls were imposing, resembling a fortress of despair that stood as a testament to the shadows of society. Certainly, he shook his head in regret, as he had never been to a place this horrible before.He observed cold steel bars, like sentinels of incarceration, confining notorious men whose stories were etched in the graffiti of hardened souls. Similarly, he noticed how the air hung heavy with the weight of regret, whispers of past misdeeds echoing through the dimly lit corridors.The sounds of his handcuffs tucked in chains down to his ankle made obvious sounds as he was escorted through the corridor harboring the cells of different notorious men by two prison officers whose faces lacked smiles, as if they hadn't smiled for many notorious years. Hence, he saw individuals behind these cells harboring untold secrets with their unappealing faces and frightful behaviors.Upon witnessing him and the others being escorted to their r
“Detective Sharon, we would love to ask you a few questions if you do not mind. We are sure this would help the public understand more of what is going on,” one reporter said immediately. “Alright, please go ahead. If this would help the general public understand more of what is going on, “Thank you, Detective Sharon. Now that Mr. Alexander, Mr. X, and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to lengthy prison terms, and Attorney Reynolds is awaiting the outcome of his investigation before he is sentenced, do you think that would be the end of this deadly organization?” “Yes, Mr. X. Mr. Alexander Rosewood and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to prison for a very long term, and if care is not taken, for life imprisonment. However, this is not the end of the organization. As you might already know, the deadly organization is a large organization that has penetrated every sector, which could even include the police, the prison officers, the legal system, and many more, which could even i