?Chapter 1045:


    A frustrated curse slipped past Arion’s lips. “Dammit!”


    Meanwhile, running out of ammunition, Elena ducked and darted through the maze of alleys, using every scrap of cover she could find.


    Scarface tracked her every move, a savage delight flickering in his gaze. “Out of bullets, huh? How long can you keep dodging? You’re quite the captivating one. I see why Wesley’s taken with you. Why not be my woman instead? I might spare your life. What do you say?”


    His taunting words had barely faded when a bullet whistled by, tearing off a piece of his ear. Snarling with rage, he retaliated with four rapid shots. “Now you’ve pissed me off!”


    Recognition zed as Scarface spotted Wesley standing in the shadows. “Fuck! I haven’t hunted you down yet, but you’ve shown up to meet your end at my hands—saves me the trip.”


    Sprinting toward Wesley, Scarface unloaded his gun until the chamber clicked empty.


    Out of bullets, both men collided in a blur of fists and elbows.


    Scarface’s muscles twitched as he threw each punch with maximum force, aiming for Wesley’s vital spots. Expecting an easy victory, he was stunned when Wesley deflected every attack without breaking a sweat.


    Realizing his mistake in underestimating Wesley, Scarface spun to flee, but it was toote.


    Wesley seized Scarface by the wrist and pressed firmly against his shoulder de. Two sharp cracks rang out, and both of Scarface’s arms popped from their sockets.


    Wesley overpowered him, pinning him down with a forceful stomp. His shoe hovered above Scarface’s hand, ready to press down, while his eyes radiated a fierceness that outmatched even Scarface’s own ruthless pirate re.


    Fear finally cracked through Scarface’s eyes. “What—who are you? You’re not Wesley.”


    Utter disbelief washed over Scarface, panic swirling in his eyes. He’d pegged Wesley as just another wealthy businessman—never as someone who could break him sopletely.


    A chill flickered across Wesley’s lips as he offered a smirk. “Curious who I am? You’re not even close to deserving an answer.”


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    Pressure from Wesley’s boot ground Scarface’s palm into the rough pavement, shredding flesh until bone gleamed through torn skin.


    Even with Scarface writhing at his feet, Wesley refused to let up. He stooped, retrieved the fallen gun, and began to reload with unsettling calm.


    Agony contorted Scarface’s face as he struggled, the idea of dying at a businessman’s hands almost too much to bear.


    A bullet slid into the chamber with a cold, mechanical click.


    Before Wesley could squeeze the trigger, a familiar voice sliced through the tension. “Don’t, Wesley.”


    Elena walked over, her steps measured and her gaze steady as she gently removed the weapon from his grasp. “He’s not going anywhere. Lydia’s on her way, and she’ll handle things from here.”


    Though irritation shed in Wesley’s eyes, he kept quiet.


    Arriving secondster, Arion found the alley already at peace.


    Responsibility transferred smoothly—Elena handed Arion both the gun and a battered Scarface before departing with Wesley.


    Once inside the car, a question from Elena broke the silence. “So you’re Nightshade, aren’t you?”


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