Chapter 877
Chapter 877:
He adjusted the sight on his rifle with practiced precision, locking onto Vince with unblinking focus. Failure wasn’t an option.
To guarantee the angle was perfect, he fired a single test round into the marble wall opposite — the sharp crack of the shot echoing like a warning. A faint chip broke off the wall, and with that tiny cue, Maxwell refined his aim with mechanical precision.
No further adjustments were needed.
Within seconds, the sights aligned perfectly with the center of Vince’s forehead. Each breath Maxwell drew was shallow, nearly inaudible. A lump formed in his throat as he steadied himself.
His finger inched forward, settling gently on the trigger. One silent motion, and it would all be over.
But just before that moment, the image inside the scope shifted.
Without warning, Maia stepped directly into the line of fire — her body shielding Vince completely.
“Damn it p>
Maxwell clenched his jaw so tightly it felt like his teeth might shatter. His finger snapped away from the trigger, nerves frayed to the edge. Sweat ran down his face, his temples pounding as though he had just stared death itself in the eye.
A chill shot through him.
Was Maia really planning to step in and try to talk Vince down?
For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still. Chris’s warning — Just don’t get Maia hurt — echoed in Maxwell’s mind again and again.
The shot would take only 1.19 seconds to reach its mark at this distance. With Vince in his sights, Maxwell could line it up with complete confidence. But what he couldn’t predict was whether Maia might suddenly move, stepping into the line of fire and taking the bullet herself.
Despite all his years as a hitman, this was the first time Maxwell found himself weighing both the taking of a life and the sparing of one in the same breath. His pulse raced, sweat dripping steadily as he wrestled with the choice.
𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 ➝ g⸽a⸽l⸽n⸽o⸽v⸽e⸽l⸽s⸽.⸽c⸽o⸽m
Chris, sensing the razor’s edge of the standoff, reacted instantly. He darted forward, placing himself in front of Maia, shaking his head sharply toward Maxwell. The message was clear and urgent: Don’t shoot.
At that exact moment, Vince shifted backward, and the edge of something metallic flashed beneath his jacket.
“Wait — what’s that? Look, Vince is hiding something!” a girl near the front gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “No way. Are those detonators p>
Her voice had barely faded before panic rippled through the crowd.
“Somebody help p>
“He’s wearing detonators p>
In an instant, fear spread like wildfire, and chaos erupted everywhere.
Vince caught the alarmed voices and made no attempt to keep his secret. In one swift motion, he ripped his coat open for all to see.
Detonators, neat and deadly, gleamed under the overhead light, strapped across his torso.
Standing over the terrified crowd, he grinned like a madman and let out a booming laugh. “Take a good look! I’ve wired myself with explosives. If Maia doesn’t say yes to my proposal, not a single person in this place is getting out alive p>