The Heiress Spoiled by Four Brothers and One Devilish CEO-Chapter 249 Before the Clock Runs Out

Megan nodded. "Don’t worry, Michelle, I’ll keep my spirits up. I’m a bit tired—think I’ll head upstairs and rest for a while."

Michelle softly responded with an "Okay."

As everyone went upstairs, Michelle held onto Jason’s arm. "I just feel really down today."

Jason gently ruffled her hair. "Don’t overthink it—this kind of thing will never happen to you."

Back in their bedroom, Megan sat down at her desk and opened her laptop, checking for any suspicious moves from Mrs. Lewis.

Tristan stood behind her, hands on either side of the desk, trapping her gently in his arms. "Emily’s incident just happened, she probably won’t make a move anytime soon. Zeta Prime is keeping tabs on her—she won’t get the chance."

"Tomorrow’s the execution day for Nathaniel. I’ll have to head back to the Bureau tonight for some paperwork. I won’t be home later—guys like him don’t go down easy before the end."

Megan tilted her head up, eyes locked onto Tristan’s sharply defined jawline. Even from this angle, she found him ridiculously attractive. "You worried someone’ll try to break him out?"

"Could happen. The transport to the execution site might be risky." Tristan dropped a light kiss on her lips. "Be good, don’t miss me too much. By tomorrow night, everything’s over and I’ll be home."

Megan nodded. "Once he’s gone, all those followers will lose their backbone. Even if they try something, you’ll crush them."

She turned around and knelt on the chair, arms wrapping around his neck. "Tristan, it feels like you’re hiding something. Are you?"

"What could I possibly hide from you? You’ve seen every inch of me. If you wanted to see my heart, I’d cut it open for you." Tristan pulled her into his arms. "Don’t overthink it. I’m just worried about Cooper, that’s all. Try to rest. I’m heading out."

He kissed her cheek once more and reluctantly left the room.

Megan walked over to the window and watched Tristan drive off. A faint unease tugged at her—she couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was bothering him.

Inside the car, Tristan gripped the wheel and dialed a number.

"Hey, war dog, what’s up?"

Tristan let out a low chuckle. "Hearing you call me that always puts me in a good mood. Makes me think of how pissed you used to get. Right, Karl?"

Karl sipped his wine, staring at prison surveillance footage on his computer. "Cooper’s hanging on by a thread but keeping calm. It’s way too quiet."

"Quiet usually means trouble," Tristan said. "We’re right to be on guard. Karl, head to the Bureau’s special detention wing and poison him."

Karl smirked. "You think he’ll fake his death?"

Tristan made a turn, eyes still on the road. "I’m not taking chances. A guy like him won’t just wait to die."

He glanced at his watch. "Half an hour. Meet me at the Bureau entrance."

Karl stared at the ended call and muttered, "Damn you, war dog."

He set his wine glass down, threw on his coat. "Keith. We’re heading to the Bureau."

As Keith drove them, he glanced at Karl in the rearview mirror and asked, "Boss, we going to see Nathaniel?"

"See him? What are you, dumb?" Karl pulled a small bottle from his coat. "We’re going to make sure the bastard stays dead.""What if the guy blows himself up in the car? Once it’s on fire, we’ll end up with nothing—no ashes, no body, no way to confirm anything."

Karl smirked, that annoyingly pretty face of his lit up with amusement. "That’s why we’ve got to make sure he doesn’t live long enough to pull that off."

"Tristan’s on board with that?"

"Yeah." Karl slipped a tiny bottle into his pocket. "That’s the ’dog’s’ plan."

"You know he’s the head of the Security Bureau. Doing this skirts the line."

Karl gave a short laugh. "Nathaniel has to die. If he doesn’t, the world won’t ever know peace. You realize how nasty things could get if he pulls a retaliatory stunt?"

Keith nodded. "I live right along the edge myself. I get why Tristan would do this. Still never figured he’d step into the gray zone though."

"People aren’t one-dimensional. Tristan just doesn’t want to leave any loose ends. Especially since..." Karl’s voice dipped, his eyes dimmed, "Anyway, I’m not just gonna stand by. Have you managed to get ahold of Mr. Ford?"

Keith shook his head. "Tried more than a few times. His students keep saying he’s in seclusion. Not seeing anyone."

"How much longer?"

"Five months."

Karl frowned, brow tightening. "But Tristan only has what, four and a half months left? So we’re already running out of time."

He paused, thinking hard. "Once this thing with Cooper’s taken care of, we prep to head to Northriver."

"You’re actually going yourself?"

Karl didn’t answer. He couldn’t stand the thought of Megan crying herself to sleep. Even less so watching Tristan die.

His original plan had been to use the Silverwing sorcery worm inside him to destroy the Lover’s Link sorcery worm killing Tristan. But problem was—once Silverwing dies, he dies too.

He’d lived this long only because of that little thing fighting off the poison in his blood all these years.

But Tristan had flat-out refused that offer. So now Karl had to figure out another way.

Exactly thirty minutes later—not a second more or less—the car pulled up in front of the Security Bureau.

When Karl stepped out, the first thing he saw was Tristan standing on the steps beside a stone pillar, cigarette in hand.

Even surrounded by wind and smoke, he had this quiet intensity. Then the haze thinned, and that cold, stoic face showed through.

Karl went up the steps to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

Tristan offered a cigarette. "Want one?"

Karl glanced at the pile of cigarette butts scattered around. "Your cravings are getting out of hand. Surprised Megan hasn’t kicked you out yet."

Tristan chuckled under his breath. "It’s cool. I brush before I kiss her, and shower before I hug her."

Keith twitched slightly at that. Looking at Karl’s darker expression, he felt like this whole trip was just round two of some "lonely single guy gets emotionally punched" story.

Karl gave him a look. "Let’s go. Less talk, more walk."

Leading the way, Tristan suddenly turned to ask, "Lately I’ve been getting this tight feeling in my chest... what’s coming next?"

"Already?" Karl frowned. "That symptom’s showing up early. You’re probably about a month ahead of schedule. Once that starts, it only gets worse—you’ll start coughing up blood next."

Tristan’s steps slowed slightly. "So you’re saying I should’ve had four and a half months, but now I’m down to about three and a half?"

Karl didn’t really want to hit him with the hard truth, but he couldn’t lie either. "Yeah... that’s it."

Tristan muttered to himself, "So Megan would be eight months pregnant by then. That should be manageable."

"Hold on—what do you mean ’manageable’? What are you planning?" Karl suddenly had a bad feeling.

Tristan cracked a crooked smile. "Come on, Karl. Use that big brain—can’t figure it out yet?"