Page 50 of For Wrath

As John stalkedtoward her, Morgan forced herself to remain calm, calculating the distancebetween them and the hand mirror lying face-down on the floor. She only had onechance at this – she couldn't afford to miss.

"Is thisyour idea of being a man, John?" she taunted, watching his every move."Hiding behind innocent women and torturing them to make yourself feelpowerful?"

"Shutup!" John snapped, his rage only fueling Morgan's determination. "Youdon't know anything about me!"

"Maybenot," Morgan countered, inching closer to the mirror. "But I knowenough to see that you're nothing more than a pathetic, twisted monster."

With a roar, Johnlunged at her, his fingers outstretched and grasping for her throat. Just as hereached her, Morgan sidestepped, quickly bending down to snatch up the handmirror in one swift motion. Before he could react, she thrust the mirror intohis face, forcing him to confront his own grotesque reflection.

"Take a goodlook at yourself, John," she hissed, holding the mirror steady even as hewrithed in agony before it. "This is what you are – a hideousabomination."

"NO!"he screamed, the sound raw and guttural, his hands clawing at his face as if hecould somehow rip the ugliness away. Morgan watched him, her heart pounding inher chest, but she refused to let herself feel pity for the man who had causedso much pain and suffering.

"Face it,John," she said softly, her eyes never leaving his tormented figure."You can't escape what you've become."

As John sobbeduncontrollably, Morgan knew that she had won. She had exposed the truth and, indoing so, had stripped him of his power. It was time to put an end to thisnightmare once and for all.

Morgan's grip onthe mirror tightened, her knuckles turning white as John's anguished criesfilled the sterile room. She knew she had to act quickly before he could regainhis composure and lash out again.

Taking advantageof John's momentary vulnerability, Morgan lunged forward, grabbing a coil ofrope that lay discarded on a nearby table. Her heart raced as she rushed towardshim, the weight of the rope heavy in her hands.

"Enough!"she shouted, wrapping the rope around his wrists, binding him. John struggledagainst her, but the pain he was feeling from seeing his own reflectionweakened him, allowing Morgan to secure the knots tightly.

As John writhedon the floor, his face contorted in agony; Morgan stared down at him with amixture of disgust and pity. "You think you're some kind of artist,"she spat, her voice laced with contempt. "But all you've done is destroylives."

"Please...please stop..." John whimpered, unable to look away from his grotesquereflection in the mirror Morgan still held.

Morgan's gazehardened, and she leaned closer to him, her voice cold and unforgiving."You'll never hurt anyone again, John. I'll make sure of that."

With a suddensurge of determination, Morgan yanked the mirror away from John's line ofsight, leaving him gasping for breath on the floor. As he shook with sobs, shecouldn't help but feel a grim satisfaction knowing that he would never escapethe reality of what he truly was – a monster.

"Listenclosely," she told him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Whenyou're locked away, I'll make sure your cell is filled with mirrors. You'll beforced to confront your ugliness every single day, just like your victims hadto endure the horror you inflicted upon them."

John's eyeswidened in terror, and he began to sob even harder. Morgan knew she had gottenthrough to him, and the thought filled her with a cold satisfaction.

"Goodbye,John," she said, turning away from the broken man on the floor. As shewalked towards Harriet, Morgan couldn't help but feel a sense of relief washover her; it was finally over. The monster would be caged, and the women he hadtormented could be avenged. And as for herself, maybe now she could start toput the past behind her and find some semblance of peace.

EPILOGUE

Morgan steppedinto AD Mueller's dimly lit office, the glow of the city skyline castingshadows across his face. She had never liked the man; perhaps it was thecondescending tone he always seemed to reserve for her or the lack of trustthat hung like a dark cloud between them. As she moved closer to his desk, shecouldn't help but feel the weight of her recent triumph on her shoulders.

"AgentCross," Mueller greeted her, his gruff voice betraying a hint of surprise."I must say, I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"Neither didI," Morgan replied, her voice steady and confident. "But I've gotnews about John Pesci."

"Ah,yes," Mueller leaned forward in his chair, the light catching his grayinghair. "You managed to apprehend him, as I understand it. Quite impressive,considering your... history."

"Is thatyour way of saying 'good job,' sir?" Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's justsay I'm glad you proved me wrong," Mueller admitted, bitterness tinginghis words. "I didn't expect much from you after what happened ten yearsago. But you've shown me that you're still a capable agent."

"Thank you,sir," Morgan said, biting back a retort. "Harriet Holland is safenow, and Pesci won't be hurting anyone else."

"Good,"Mueller replied. "That's what we need - agents who can get results. Wewant you back on full-time, Cross. You've earned it."

"Really?"Morgan asked, taken aback. "Just like that?"

"Of course,"Mueller said, studying her closely. "You've proven yourself, even if ourtrust in each other isn't fully restored. You have my apologies for misjudgingyou before."

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