Cordelia pounded the murderer with a fury borne of raw grief before collapsing to the ground, her voice barely above a whisper, "Blake, Blake..."
Her gaze was hollow, lost in a world of pain.
"Blake?" The killer's confusion was evident in his eyes as he questioned.
With a surge of bitter strength, Cordelia lifted her gaze, fierce and accusing. "You don't even know you killed my son, Jayson?"
"Jayson?" The realization hit the killer like a freight train, leaving him dazed. "How could it be Jayson?"
Ronan watched the scene unfold, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He had known all along that the intended target had been Callum, and Blake was just a fall guy. But none of that mattered now. The killer was caught, and whether it was the death penalty or life imprisonment that awaited him, his fate was sealed. And Samantha, the puppet master behind the scenes, would soon share his destiny.
Wasn't this arrangement just perfect?
"It was Jayson, you took my son Jayson from me," Cordelia said, her eyes boring into the killer.
The murderer's thoughts raced with panic. Samantha must know by now. Would she still pay him?
Outside, Ronan's phone rang, breaking the tense silence. He answered with a calm, controlled voice.
"Hello?"
"Ronan, I need a favor. My stocks are tanking, and that witch Samantha, she's got dirt on me - videos with other women. She's cleaned out the house, vanished into thin air. She played me!" Grant's voice was livid, venom thick in his tone.
"Samantha? That bad, huh? She's behind this too?" Ronan's voice was incredulous. "Look, I can't help you right now. Jayson's been murdered, and I'm at the police station."
"A murder?" Grant's voice spiked with genuine shock. "Hold on, could Samantha be involved with this too? I mean, what are the odds that our troubles happen at the same time? Hand your phone to the cops; I have a lead. I need to report this."
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