The Billionaire’s Regret -Alessa (by Bukolami) novel Chapter 58

**Shadows Beneath the Silent Moon**
*Rising Echoes by Aiden R. Vale*

Bryan made his entrance, sliding into the seat beside Alessa, a curious look crossing his face.

“Is something wrong?” he inquired, his voice tinged with concern as he glanced sideways at her.

“Oh, no. Nothing,” she replied, her tone dismissive, yet her eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper. She nodded, attempting to mask her unease.

As the evening unfolded, it became clear that this was no ordinary gathering. The atmosphere was charged with an unsettling energy, and the activities were far from typical party fare.

To everyone’s astonishment, they began to auction off stolen artifacts, each piece fetching an outrageous price. Tracy, standing off to the side, felt her heart race, a mixture of shock and disbelief coursing through her veins. She forced a smile, trying to blend into the crowd, but inside, she was screaming into her pillow, knowing she would crash hard once she returned home.

Tracy thought she had witnessed the worst of humanity until the auctioneer announced the next lot: human beings, women, collared and chained, crawling on their knees as they were paraded before the bidders.

Her stomach churned at the sight, and she muttered under her breath, “This is so disturbing.” Tyler, ever attentive, caught her words and instinctively placed his hand on her thigh, seeking to comfort her. She turned sharply, her expression fierce as she removed his hand with a swift motion.

Tyler’s heart sank; he hadn’t meant to overstep. Had he crossed a line?

The party continued, a surreal blend of laughter and horror, the air thick with tension. Just as the night seemed to settle into a rhythm, Alessa’s phone emitted a sharp beep, slicing through the chaos. She glanced down, her expression shifting as she read the text message.

Bryan, ever observant, felt a prickle of suspicion. He sensed she was plotting something, and a part of him wondered if Mr. Monroe was her target, but he needed confirmation. For the moment, she appeared to be biding her time.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me,” she announced abruptly, rising from her seat with purpose. Bryan watched her leave, his instincts on high alert as she disappeared around the corner.

After a brief pause, he stood, driven by an inexplicable urge to follow her.

Alessa entered the restroom, her eyes scanning the space to ensure she was alone. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead as she approached the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with a mix of determination and anxiety.

“Okay, three minutes,” she murmured to herself, setting a timer on her phone before dropping it carelessly onto the counter. She swiftly gathered her long hair into a tight bun, revealing the steely resolve in her eyes. With a practiced motion, she retrieved a gun concealed within her coat, the cold metal feeling familiar in her grip.

Just then, the door swung open, and Bryan stepped inside, his expression a mix of confusion and concern.

Alessa, focused on her weapon, didn’t acknowledge him. She was too engrossed in checking if the gun was loaded, her mind racing with thoughts of what was to come.

“Who are you here to kill?” Bryan asked, stepping closer, his voice low and urgent. Alessa remained silent, her gaze fixed on the gun.

“Is it Monroe? Who sent you?” he pressed, desperation creeping into his tone.

She finally turned to him, her brow raised in challenge. “What makes you think I’m here to kill anyone?”

“I only kill people who break the code. I don’t do it for fun,” he replied, his voice steady, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

“Me too,” she shrugged, an unsettling calmness about her.

Bryan exhaled sharply, trying to maintain his composure. “What about our kids? Isn’t this lifestyle dangerous for them?”

“My kids, Bryan. My kids,” she snapped, her voice firm, a protective edge slicing through the tension.

“They are mine too. And I think it’s about time we tell them. They deserve to know who their father is. I need to be in their life,” he raised his voice slightly, frustration bubbling to the surface.

‘Don’t touch me.’
‘On your knees.’
‘Take off your clothes.’

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