Chapter Ninety Seven

Chapter 97
The warehouse was shrouded in tension, the air thick with fear and unspoken truths. Jemima's pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the distant hum of traffic outside. The sharp echo of the gunshot lingered, a reminder of how precarious their situation had become.
Vanessa's sharp intake of breath pulled Jemima back into focus. Dimitri was clutching his arm, blood seeping through his fingers as Alan lowered his weapon, a cold satisfaction in his eyes.
“What the hell Alan?” Jemima shouted, her eyes steely with rage. Alan smirked at her and blew the mouth of his gun.
“The next time it’d be his head!”
The tension broke when heavy footsteps echoed from the stairwell. The sound was familiar, and Jemima's heart leapt with a mix of hope and dread.
"Jemima!"
Jay's voice cut through the chaos as he burst into the room, Marcus close behind. Both were armed, their expressions grim as they took in the scene before them. Jay's eyes locked onto Jemima, his protective instincts kicking in immediately.
“Why did you leave the hospital Jem? How did they even let you leave?” Jay asked a series of question, his eyes frantically searching through her body to make sure she was okay.
“Not now Jay,” Jemima brushed him off breezily.
"What the hell is going on here?" Marcus demanded, his gaze darting between Alan, Vanessa, and Dimitri. His usually stoic demeanor was replaced with a barely restrained fury.
Alan's smirk faltered for a moment before he recovered. "Ah, the cavalry arrives. Perfect timing as always, Marcus."
Jay didn't waste time with words. He strode to Jemima's side, his hand brushing hers briefly as if to reassure himself she was unharmed. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.
"I'm fine," Jemima whispered, though her trembling hands betrayed her. "But Alan—he's not the only problem."
Jay's gaze shifted to Alan, narrowing dangerously. "You've got five seconds to explain yourself before I end this."
Alan chuckled, though it lacked his usual confidence. "Oh, Jay. Always so quick to resort to violence. I wonder what Jemima sees in you."
Jay's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Marcus stepped forward. "Enough of this." His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension. "Alan, drop the gun. Now."
Alan hesitated, his eyes flicking to Vanessa and then to Dimitri, who was slumped against the wall, pale from blood loss. The brief moment of indecision was enough for Marcus to seize the advantage.
"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," Marcus said, his tone low and dangerous. "You're outnumbered, and you know it."
Alan's fingers twitched on the gun, but before he could make a move, another voice rang out, silencing everyone.
"Well, isn't this a touching reunion?"
The air seemed to shift as Jon Ross stepped into the room, his presence commanding and cold.
Jay froze, his body going rigid as he processed the sight of Jon. Marcus, too, looked as though he had seen a ghost.
"Jon?" Marcus's voice was filled with disbelief. "How...?"
Jon's smile was razor-sharp. "Surprised to see me, boys? I'd say it's been too long, but we all know that would be a lie."
Jay stepped protectively in front of Jemima, his gun now trained on Jon. "You were supposed to be dead."
"Dead?" Jon's laugh was low and mocking. "I've been many things, but dead isn't one of them. Though I can see why you'd think that. I've always been good at disappearing when it suits me."
Alan's expression shifted from defiance to something more vulnerable—confusion, anger, and betrayal warring within him. "You lied to me," he said, his voice shaking. "All this time, you let me believe you were gone. Why?"
Jon's gaze was cold as he regarded his son. "Because you weren't ready to know the truth. And judging by the mess you've made here, I was right."
Alan's hands shook as he lowered the gun, his shoulders slumping. "I thought I was doing this for you. To honor you."
Jon's expression didn't soften. "You thought wrong. But don't worry, son. I'm here now, and I'll handle this."
"Handle what, exactly?" Marcus interjected, his voice laced with anger. "Because from where I'm standing, you're the one who created this mess in the first place."
Jon's smile didn't waver. "Always so quick to judge, Marcus. You haven't changed a bit."
"And you're still a manipulative bastard," Marcus shot back.
The tension between them crackled like a live wire, but Jemima's focus was on Alan, who looked utterly defeated.
"Alan," she said softly, taking a step toward him. "Whatever he's done, whatever lies he's told you, it doesn't have to define you. You can still choose a different path."
Alan's eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or even hope. But then Jon's voice cut through the moment, sharp and commanding.
"Don't listen to her, Alan," Jon said. "She doesn't understand what's at stake here."
"And you do?" Jay's voice was like ice as he leveled his gun at Jon. "You've been playing games with all of us for years. What's your endgame, Jon?"
Jon's smile widened, but his eyes remained cold. "Endgame? There's no endgame, Jay. This is survival. Something you'd understand if you weren't so blinded by your attachment to Jemima."
Jay's grip on his gun tightened, but before he could respond, Vanessa stepped forward.
"I'm done with this," she said, her voice trembling but resolute. "I've had enough of your lies, Jon. And yours, Alan."
Jon's gaze shifted to Vanessa, his expression unreadable. "You're out of your depth, Ness. This isn't your fight."
"No," Vanessa said, her voice steady now. "It's not. But I'm making it mine because I won't let you hurt them. Any of them."
Jon's smile faltered for the first time, but he quickly recovered. "Brave words. Let's see if you can back them up."
Before anyone could react, Jon moved, faster than seemed possible for a man his age. He disarmed Marcus in one fluid motion, twisting the gun from his hand and aiming it at Jay.
"Enough of this," Jon said, his voice a low growl. "We're leaving. Alan, get your things."
Alan hesitated, his gaze darting to Jemima. "Dad—"
"Now," Jon snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Jay took a step forward, his eyes blazing with fury. "You're not taking him anywhere."
Jon's smile was cold and dangerous. "Try and stop me."
The room exploded into chaos. Jay lunged for Jon, knocking the gun from his hand as they grappled. Marcus, recovering quickly, joined the fray, while Vanessa rushed to Dimitri's side to staunch the bleeding.
Jemima watched in horror as the fight unfolded, her mind racing. She had to do something, but what?
Her eyes fell on the discarded gun, and she moved instinctively, grabbing it and aiming it at Jon.
"Stop!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the noise. It was Jemma in control now.
Everyone froze, their eyes turning to her. Jemima's eyes were filled with rage, her hand slightly trembling but her grip on the gun was firm.
"Jon, you're done," she said, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her. "This ends here."
Jon's smile was faint but approving, as if he were proud of her. "Well, well. Hello again Jemma!”
“Enough of your deceit Jon. Stop with this sick god complex. You manipulate everyone even your own son?” Jemma was dumbfounded, her breathing becoming ragged.
“Well, Jemma. Looks like you've got some fight in you after all."
"Shut up," Jemma snapped. "Jay, Marcus—get Alan out of here. Now."
Jay and Marcus didn't hesitate. They moved quickly, grabbing Alan and pulling him toward the exit despite his protests.
"Jemima," Alan called, his voice desperate. "I didn't want this. I swear."
Jemma didn't respond. Her focus remained on Jon, who was watching her with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," Jon said. "But do you have the stomach to pull the trigger?"
Jemima's finger tightened on the trigger, but before she could decide, Jon moved. He lunged at her, knocking the gun from her hands and pinning her against the wall.
"You're brave," he said, his voice low. "But bravery won't save you."
Before he could do anything else, Jay was there, pulling Jon off her and delivering a brutal punch that sent him staggering.
"Stay the hell away from her," Jay growled.
Jon wiped the blood from his lip, his smile returning. "This isn't over."
With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving them in stunned silence.
The aftermath was a blur. They managed to get Dimitri to safety, his wound treated by a trusted contact. Alan was taken into custody by Marcus, who promised to deal with him personally.
As they sat in the dimly lit safe house, Jemma leaned against Jay, exhaustion weighing heavily on her.
"It's not over, is it?" she asked quietly.
Jay's arm tightened around her. "No. But we'll face it together."
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Jemma believed him as she blacked out.