I Swapped His Fake Gift for a Real Life novel Chapter 39

Chapter 21: Jailhouse Reflection

Rain lashed against the windows of a seedy Saint–Denis hostel. Zane Blackthorn huddled on a stained mattress, the reek

of mildew and cheap disinfectant thick in the air. Neon signs bled through grimy glass, painting his gaunt face in garish.

shifting colors.

On the nightstand, his phone glowed–a fifteenth debt–collection text:

[48 HOURS. OR FOR CONCRETE OVERSHOES.]

His trembling hand found a half–empty bottle of rotgut whiskey. The burn down his throat mirrored the fire on the

flickering TV screen:

[Ivy Callahan arrested in Helvemont for transnational fraud and money laundering. Stolen funds exceed €230 million…]

The broadcast cut to Veridian Police Headquarters. Ivy, handcuffed, her once–perfect curls a wild tangle. When reporters shouted questions about the missing millions, she suddenly shrieked at the cameras.

“Zane Blackthorn ordered it! All transactions went through HIM!”

The bottle slipped from Zane’s grip, whiskey soaking into the threadbare carpet. He stared at her contorted face, hearing

her last threat echo.

‘Hurt me? The Blackthorn Empire becomes my funeral pyre!”

She’d kept her promise.

His phone buzzed–a bank email:

(BLACKTHORN GROUP SHARES LIQUIDATED. ASSETS FORFEITED.]

The century–old empire was erased.

Fists hammered the door. Heavy–accented roared, “Blackthorn! Open up or we torch this shithole with you inside!”

Zane staggered to his feet. The fly–specked mirror showed a ghost–hollow eyes, streaks of premature gray in unwashed hair, the rancid stench of his ruined Brioni suit clinging like a shroud.

Glass shattered. A torch flew through the window, flames licking up the curtains. Zane grabbed his coat and bolted- colliding in the hallway with stone–faced debt collectors.

*48 hours are up. Blackthorn,” the leader smirked. “Where’s the cash?A switchblade kissed his throat.

“Boss says final chance. The blade bit deeper. “You spoiled that Callahan bitch. Get her stolen millions for us… or bleed

out in this hallway.”

Chapter 21: Jailhouse Reflection

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Dramawave

Zane’s laugh was a broken wheeze. “Find her yourself. Veridian Women’s Prison. Blood welled hot beneath the steel.

“You’ve already taken… everything else.”

Police sirens pierced the night.

“Merde! Cops!” The thugs vanished into smoke–stairwells.

Zane slid down the wall, fingers pressed to his bleeding neck. A sob tore loose–then became a raw, gasping laugh.

“I was wrong…” He choked into his palms. “God, I was wrong…”

Veridian Women’s Prison – Same Night

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