RED NOTES AND KISSES
Chapter 123: LAZ - 123

Chapter 123: LAZ: Chapter 123

"Everything went according to plan," Laz thought, his gaze fixed on the unconscious man slumped before him.

Laz wasn’t one for forgiveness—especially not for men like this. For a moment, a dark thought flickered across his mind: shooting Chelsea, just to watch Delancie drown in misery.

He smirked, his voice a sneer. "You think I didn’t know you were a sniper, Delancie?"

Delancie’s eyes widened, panic creeping into her features.

"When I shot you, I aimed for the mole on your neck," he continued, his tone cold and deliberate. "The moment I saw you, I knew it was you."

Her breathing quickened as he leaned closer. "What were you planning to do to my woman, Delancie? When you knew I’d recognize you the second I laid eyes on you?"

Her throat tightened, her voice trembling. "I—I—"

He cut her off, his expression hardening. "Did you think I wouldn’t shoot you because you’re a woman? You shouldn’t have done what you did—threatening Frida and dragging her into a place like the Central Bank. What were you thinking? Taking her to a place where they sell organs?"

His head shook with bitter disbelief. "You brought this on yourself, Delancie. And this time, I’ll make sure it’s the last mistake you ever make."

Delancie’s composure shattered as one of Laz’s masked men gripped Chelsea’s fingers, twisting them. Chelsea screamed, the sound piercing the air like a knife.

"Stop! Please, don’t hurt her!" Delancie cried, her desperation spilling out.

"Please, stop!" she screamed again.

Laz tilted his head, amused by her plea. "If you stop," Delancie stammered, her voice shaking, "I’ll tell you where they’ve taken her. I’ll tell you everything."

Laz chuckled darkly, the sound devoid of warmth. Without hesitation, he fired a shot into the floor near her knee, making her flinch.

"You think you have a choice here?" he said bitterly. "If you don’t tell me, I’ll serve your father’s head as a wedding gift."

Hatred burned in Delancie’s eyes, but she swallowed it down, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Laz’s gaze flicked to the unconscious bank manager. Without warning, he fired another shot, this one grazing the floor beside the man’s head. The deafening crack startled the man awake, his scream a mix of fear and disorientation.

"Jesus Christ!" the man gasped.

"He won’t save you, you piece of shit," Laz snarled, his voice low and venomous.

The man, dressed in a crisp corporate suit that now seemed out of place, appeared to be in his late forties. His wide, frantic eyes darted around the room, terror etched into his features as he took in the scene.

"W-who are you people?" he stammered, his trembling hand reaching into his pocket for his phone.

Before he could retrieve it, a gunshot echoed. Laz’s bullet slammed into the man’s knee, sending him sprawling to the floor with a guttural scream. "Ahhhh! What the fuck! Who are you people?" he howled, clutching his bleeding leg.

Laz circled him like a predator toying with its prey, his movements deliberate and unhurried. "Tell us everything you know about the organ bank and the human market," Laz said, his voice cold and sharp.

The man froze mid-sob, his face turning pale as if his body had forgotten its pain. He stared at Laz, terror etched into every line of his face. "Who... who are you? I don’t know what you’re talking about!"

Laz’s expression didn’t change. He raised his weapon again, the motion calm but menacing. "Talk, or I’ll shoot your arm off," he said, loading the next round with unnerving precision.

"You dare threaten me? Do you even know who I am?" the man shouted, his voice laced with desperation and bravado.

Laz scoffed and fired, the bullet grazing the man’s shoulder. The wound drew a sharp scream, and blood seeped through the pristine white of his shirt. The man’s complexion turned crimson with pain and fury.

"Senator Andrew Mate Lim," Laz said, his tone mocking as he crouched beside the injured man. "Manager of the Central Bank, and one of the key players behind the organ bank. Did I get that right?"

The senator’s lips trembled, his sweat-drenched face contorting with fear. "H-how do you know about that?"

Laz tilted his head, unfazed. "That’s not what I asked you. If I have to repeat myself one more time, I’ll consider you useless and put a bullet in your eye. Now, let’s try this again. Tell me everything." His voice was low and steady, like a thundercloud before the storm.

The man’s breathing turned ragged, his chest heaving as panic overtook him. "I... I can’t," he gasped, his words a desperate plea. "If I speak, he’ll kill me. He’ll harvest my organs. Please, my wife... my child... I can’t!"

Laz’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. "You’re scared of having your organs harvested? How ironic, considering you’ve been doing it to others for years."

He stood and aimed. "Three."

The gunshot was deafening. The bullet tore through the senator’s eye, and a spray of blood painted the floor as his body collapsed in a lifeless heap.

Laz stepped over the corpse without a second glance, his boots leaving crimson prints as he approached Chelsea and Delancie, both kneeling in fear.

"Now," he said, his voice calm and cold, "where were we?"

"What are you trying to prove with this, Laz?" Delancie hissed, her voice trembling with frustration.

"I was trying to help her!" she yelled, her anger flaring.

"And this is how you repay me?" she whispered, her voice now tinged with disbelief.

Through his mask, she could just barely make out the cold glint in his eyes. His voice was laced with venom as he replied, "Oh, really? Threatening her was your idea of help? Should I be thanking you, Delancie?"

He took a step closer, his tone turning mocking. "Sending her to an organ bank—truly inspired. Revealing her family’s secrets without her consent—what a stellar friend you’ve been."

His words were heavy with sarcasm, each one cutting like a blade. "You’ve done a fantastic job, Delancie. Really. I should be so grateful."

Laz turned back toward Andrew’s lifeless body, his expression hardening beneath the mask. He stared at the blood pooling around the corpse, his jaw tightening as if he were contemplating something dark.

"One less monster in the world," he muttered coldly, nudging the body with his boot as if it were nothing more than trash.

"Search him," Laz commanded, his voice sharp. His men immediately patted down the senator’s lifeless body, pulling out gadgets—phones, a smartwatch, and other accessories—before handing them over to him.

"I bet there’s something juicy in here," Laz said, smirking as he examined the confiscated items. "Something that could take your father down. Even if it’s just a little crack in his armor..." His chuckle was cold, almost gleeful.

Delancie’s eyes widened at his words. "You wouldn’t... Not on national television," she hissed, her voice a mix of anger and desperation.

"Oh, I would," Laz replied, his grin widening. "What better way to give your father a birthday present?"

"That’s madness," she shot back. "He’ll never forgive you if you humiliate him like this."

Laz’s tone turned icy. "Then he shouldn’t have messed with what’s mine." He turned to his men. "Get the body to the event. Make it loud."

The tension in the room was palpable as Laz turned on the television, increasing the volume. The screen lit up with the live broadcast of Governor Justin Hampton’s lavish birthday celebration. Delancie and Chelsea remained on their knees, guns pressed to the backs of their heads, their fear evident.

"If they move," Laz said coolly to his men, "blow their heads off."

The governor stood in the grand hall, his blond hair perfectly styled, his sharp blue eyes scanning the crowd through his plastic smile. He shook hands with dignitaries, his movements calculated and confident. A massive banner overhead proclaimed "Happy 59th Birthday!" in bold letters.

Laz checked his watch, waiting with bated breath. Suddenly, the window behind the governor shattered, and the senator’s corpse crashed into the room. The hall erupted in screams as chaos unfolded. Armed mercenaries stationed at the venue drew their weapons, ready for action.

Laz smirked, adjusting his air pod as he received a call.

"Playing tricks, are we, son?" Governor Hampton’s voice was low, his anger barely restrained.

"I’m just playing the same game you are," Laz replied evenly.

"This stunt of yours," the governor growled, "what is it supposed to prove?"

"It’s a message," Laz said, cutting him off. "Recognize the body? Your manager... or should I say, your accomplice?"

The line went silent for a moment before Justin spoke again, his tone sharp with realization. "That’s bold of you, son. Bold and foolish."

"Bold, yes. Foolish? We’ll see," Laz said, leaning against the wall. "Oh, and guess what? My bride-to-be has something to say. Care to greet her, Delancie?"

Delancie glared at Laz, her lips pressed into a tight line.

"Well?" Laz taunted.

"What do you want, kid?" Justin asked, the sound of distant sirens growing louder in the background.

"My woman," Laz said simply, his voice steady.

Justin feigned ignorance. "What woman?"

"Frida," Laz replied, his expression darkening. "I know you just took her."

"Speculation," Justin scoffed. "And for that, you resort to this madness? I don’t know anything about your woman."

Laz clenched his fists, his patience thinning.

Justin chuckled darkly. "By the way, Laz, did you really believe her mother, Evelyn? Frida’s parents are marrying her off."

The words hit Laz like a brick wall. For a moment, he froze, unable to process what he’d just heard.

"You didn’t know?" Justin taunted. "Her ’bitch’ mother arranged it all. Consider this my birthday gift to you."

The line went dead.