CHAPTER 191: CHAPTER 191- FREEDOM

Zoey swept toward him in a flowing violet gown, elegance radiating from every step.

Charles, however, didn’t even glance her way. He was about to walk straight past when a cool, cutting voice stopped him in his tracks.

"What? You can’t even spare me a single look now?"

She hated to admit it, but watching him dote on Janice made her burn with jealousy. With Ternence, their relationship had always been physical—rarely warm, never tender. Yet here was Charles, the man known for his icy, ruthless nature, showing such unguarded gentleness... for another woman.

"Zoey, if I recall correctly, we’re not exactly close," Charles said flatly. His gaze sharpened as he noticed her manicured fingers clutching at his sleeve. She quickly let go.

"Charles... is that woman really worth it? Worth you being so loyal, so blind?" Zoey’s voice dropped, trembling on the edge of a snarl. That day at the wedding, the moment she saw him, her heart had tightened. And yet... he hadn’t spared her a single true look.

Loving a man like Charles was a calamity for any woman. He wasn’t incapable of love—he had simply given every ounce of it to someone else.

"In my eyes," he said, his tone cutting through the air, "she’s the best there is."

His gaze flicked to the corner table by the window, where Ternence was holding Janice’s hand. His eyes darkened.

"Mrs. Louis," he continued, his voice turning icy, "I suggest you remember your place. You’re a married woman. Even if you don’t care about appearances, I won’t risk Janice misunderstanding. From now on... we’re strangers."

He didn’t wait for her reply. Walking away, he left Zoey standing there, her sharp nails digging into her palm as she watched his tall figure cross the room, whisper something to a waiter, and then take his seat beside Janice as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Why haven’t you eaten much?" Charles asked, noticing the barely touched steak in front of Janice.

Ternence, still beside her, instantly released her hand when Charles appeared.

"Just... no appetite," Janice murmured. The heavy flavor of the steak made her feel faintly nauseous, though she forced herself not to show it.

A moment later, a waiter arrived with a plate of chocolate cake and a glass of warm milk, placing them gently before her. Janice glanced at Charles—and when he simply looked back at her, she understood without a word.

That was the sight Zoey returned to see: the two of them, sitting close, the air between them warm and intimate. Her face went pale.

"What’s wrong? You don’t look well," Ternence asked gently, still holding her hand.

"It’s nothing. You’ve finished eating?" Zoey replied with a practiced smile. She could lean into his warmth if she wished—cling to him like a delicate, sheltered woman. But suddenly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

"Philip, we’ll head out first," Charles said after the meal, rising with Janice. She bid the others goodbye before he ushered her into the car.

"I have some business to take care of," he told her, brows faintly drawn with worry. "I’ll send you home. Stay there and don’t run around, understand?"

"I understand. Go handle your work—I’ll take care of myself," she said softly. She knew better than to add to his burdens right now.

"Good girl."

He drove her home, then left without delay. Watching his car disappear, Janice felt an uneasy twist in her chest. Maybe she was overthinking, but for a fleeting second earlier... there had been a cold, dangerous glint in his eyes.

Charles didn’t go to the office. The moment Steven called, he headed straight to Hell’s Bar.

Upstairs, in a private room, Shaun, Brian, and Steven sat in black suits, their faces grim.

"What happened?" Charles asked immediately, the air heavy with tension. He unbuttoned his jacket and sat beside Shaun, who was absently flipping a lighter in one hand and holding an unlit cigarette in the other. They wouldn’t have called him here unless it was serious.

Brian, always calm and steady, spoke first. "We just got word—there’s been a betrayal inside the Hell Gate. The Master needs all of us back."

Charles’ gaze swept over them. Shaun and Brian had retired from the organization. He was thirty now, but still carrying the fate that should have ended with Shaun a year ago. If trouble had reached this level, neither he nor Steven could refuse to act.

"You’re both coming too?" Charles asked, his dark eyes steady.

"He asked for us," Brian said simply. "We can’t refuse. Not when it’s this serious. And not when your lives are at stake."

For Shaun, letting them walk into danger was unthinkable. Years ago, Charles and Steven had staked their own futures in Hell Gate for his sake. Now Charles had reached the age where he should have walked away—yet that brand, that identity, still chained him in place.

"How long has it been," Steven drawled, rising from the sofa, "since we last fought side by side?"

In the dim, amber light, the arrogant tilt of his posture and the flawless, Apollo-like beauty of his face carried a dangerous allure—an intoxicating mix of charm and menace.

"So long," Brian replied, standing as well, "that I’ve lost count."

The four tall shadows merged into one. No words were needed; their silent understanding was enough to bring faint, knowing smirks to both Charles’ and Shaun’s lips.

Bound by fate, sharing life and death, the four of them knew this would be their final battle. Each now had someone they wanted to protect—a woman who had changed the course of their lives. Win this fight, help Black Hawk reclaim the Master’s seat, and they could name their final price: freedom.

Steven was the first to leave. Out of all of them, he carried the least visible burden. But they all knew that Steven’s ease was a mask—he was the one who suppressed himself the most, burying everything deep until it forged a sharper, colder edge.

After Brian left, Shaun and Charles stayed behind for a few more drinks.

"You leaving now... is it because you’re worried about her?" Shaun asked knowingly.

He’d heard the news last night from Angela, who had returned home nearly giddy with excitement—more excited over Janice’s pregnancy than she had been with her own.

Shaun understood the conflict tearing at Charles. Back when Janice had Trista, he had been there through every agonizing day. They had both endured that pain with gritted teeth. And now, just as Charles had begun to taste the joy of fatherhood, he was being called away—into a mission that could very well cost him his life. No wonder Janice weighed so heavily on his mind.