Chapter 287

The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the hospital room as Vincent stood by the bedside, his usually composed face clouded with anger. Barry lay there, his arm heavily bandaged, the pain evident in the furrow of his brow.

“How are you feeling?” Vincent asked, his voice low and controlled, but the tension beneath was palpable.

Barry scowled, his frustration boiling over. “Sir, that bastard Gabriel shot me. Three bullets straight into my arm. I'm not getting any better. You heard what the doctor said—I could lose my whole arm!” His voice shook with a mix of pain and rage.

Vincent’s expression darkened, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he processed the implications. “Gabriel needs to pay,” he muttered, his voice cold and dangerous.

Barry gritted his teeth, eyes blazing with the same fury. “He’s cost us too much already. And now, he’s maimed me.”

Vincent’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge. “That man has crossed too many lines. The person who kidnapped his daughter—it
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