Page 154 of Shattered By Grace

With one calculated step, Tristan kicked out, his foot connecting with Cassian’s face in a brutal explosion of force. The sickening crack of bone filled the air, followed by a deafening silence that seemed to hang over the room.

Cassian crumpled like a ragdoll, his body jerking from the impact.

Victoria didn’t wait. She ran to Taylor, pulling her close, her heart still hammering in her chest.

“Taylor,” she whispered, voice breaking.

Taylor’s head popped up, and Victoria slid down to her level, wrapping her arms around her in a desperate, tearful hug.

Victoria’s heart raced as she pulled Taylor close, emotions swirling in a tornado of fear and relief. Taylor’s sobs filled her ear, and for a moment, all Victoria could do was hold on tight, trying to steady her friend.

“I’m so sorry, Taylor,” Victoria whispered, her voice cracking. Both of them cried in silence, everything too much to process in that moment.

But then, the world outside the small bubble they’d created began to shift.

A shout rang through the air, sharp and loud. “Move!” Loud bangs and flashes of light echoed, followed by screams. Panic swept through the crowd, feet pounding the floor in frantic flight. The once-controlled chaos had erupted into full-blown pandemonium.

Victoria’s head snapped up, eyes wide with confusion. She didn’t know what was happening, but there was no time to figure it out. The unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps cut through the chaos.

“Stay right here, Taylor. I’ll be back,” Victoria said quickly, her voice soft but firm as she pulled away, fingers squeezing her friend’s shoulder. Taylor nodded, still sniffling but trusting Victoria’s words.

Victoria’s feet moved before her mind caught up. She hurried toward Tristan, who stood near the platform, a frown etched across his face.

Tyson entered next to Adams, his handcuffs gleaming in the harsh light. Victoria froze.

What was he doing here? Why was he in cuffs?

The question pounded in her mind as she processed the sight, but then she saw Adams, his calm demeanor alongside Tyson made her stomach twist with unease.

What was Adams playing at?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of police flooding the room. The cops swarmed in, boots thudding on the floor like a storm breaking. The room had descended into pure chaos. Shouts of commands, handcuffs clinking, and the shrill wail of sirens outside painted the picture of a full-on takedown.

Adams, unmoved by the frenzy, made his way to the stairs to the platform.

“Tyson, what the hell is going on?” Tristan’s voice cut through the noise, his confusion thick in the air as he looked from Tyson to Adams. Tyson’s calmness was unsettling, a glaring red flag for Tristan.

Adams continued his cool, calculated march, guiding Tyson to a chair with a firm push. It was all part of the act, Victoria realized, this was a carefully orchestrated plan.

Tristan’s gaze flicked from Tyson to Adams, worry deep in his eyes. Victoria reached his side, her eyes darting between him and Tyson. “What’s going on, Adams?”

“Stay back,” Adams warned, his tone suddenly sharp as he gestured for Victoria to step aside. Then, with an almost casual motion, he pulled a set of cuffs from his belt and clinked them around Tristan’s wrists.

Victoria’s breath caught in her chest. It was happening. The plan was unfolding right before her eyes, but she still didn’t understand all the pieces.

“Adams,” she said, her voice strained. “What is all of this? What’s the deal with Tyson?”

Adams didn’t respond. He wasn’t about to give anything away. “Do as I say. I’ll explain later.”

Victoria looked at Tristan one last time. The briefest nod passed between them silent understanding. He’d get it. She had to trust him, and right now, she had no other choice but to trust Adams, too.

The chaos around them only intensified as cops arrested the top-tier drug dealers. The sound of cuffs snapping shut, people yelling, and doors slamming echoed throughout the room. Victoria barely had time to catch her breath before she watched Adams move toward the unconscious bodyguards, zip-tying their hands with precision.

And then Cassian. He was still here, lying near the floor, barely breathing. Victoria’s chest tightened.

Is he going to live?

“Detective,” Adams called sharply, glancing over his shoulder. “Smelling salts, please.”

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