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Chapter 14 - Old Friend's Turn Bad

Alexander blinked, gritty dirt and the metallic tang of blood clinging to his eyelashes. He shoved aside the guards who, in their misguided attempts to help, only hindered his pursuit. As his vision cleared, he spotted Anthony's silhouette scrambling over the wrought-iron fence of the neighboring estate. A searing rage coursed through him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. How dare this insignificant worm defy him?

"Get him!" he roared, his voice raw with unrestrained anger. "Don't let that son of a bitch escape! I want him brought back here, alive! I'll deal with him personally."

His associates nodded curtly and dispersed, fanning out to surround the neighboring property. The wail of approaching police sirens pierced the night air, a reminder that time was running out. But in that moment, Alexander's focus was singular: the humiliation of being outmaneuvered by a former friend, a betrayal that pulsed like a festering wound. He would have his revenge.

He vaulted over the fence, his polished shoes sinking into the damp earth. The sharp scent of freshly cut grass contrasted with the metallic smell of blood still clinging to him. The frantic barking of a dog reached his ears, followed by muffled sounds of a struggle. A cruel smile twisted his lips as he stalked forward, his magnum heavy in his hand.

Rounding a corner, he spotted Anthony scrambling onto the roof of a vintage car, its polished surface gleaming in the moonlight. An old man stumbled out of the house, face contorted in rage. Alexander silenced him with a venomous glare, causing the old man to recoil in terror.

"Shut your mouth," Alexander growled. "Or I'll shut it for you permanently."

The old man wisely obeyed. Alexander turned back to Anthony, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. He noted the dents on the car's roof, signs of Anthony's panicked escape. He inhaled deeply, catching the faint scent of Anthony's blood mingled with fear and sweat. He could practically taste the terror in the air.

"Going somewhere, you little shit?" Alexander taunted, his voice laced with amusement. "You can't run forever. I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth if I have to."

He raised his magnum, the barrel glinting in the moonlight, and took aim at the fleeing Toyota van. "Say your last prayers, traitor! I'll find you. Not even begging for forgiveness will save your pathetic ass!" He fired wildly into the night sky, shots ripping through the air, a terrifying display of power.

Anthony cowered against a grassy hillside, stifling his whimpers as his body trembled. The sharp cracks of gunshots echoed around him, each a hammer blow against his frayed nerves. Cold dread seeped into his bones; his skin felt clammy and pale. The musky scent of fear and sweat filled his nostrils, heavy and oppressive.

*He's a freaking psychopath,* Anthony thought, nausea washing over him as the world tilted. The cold wind whipped against his skin, a chilling reminder of his vulnerability.

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