Divorce To Marry a CEO

Chapter 52: Operation Gone Wrong

Larry paced the cold concrete floors of the hidden warehouse, his sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit space with a growing sense of unease. The building, tucked away in a desolate industrial district, was a fortress disguised as a forgotten ruin. Rusted walls and overgrown brush shielded it from prying eyes. Inside, the tension was thick enough to cut. The small, grimy windows let in just enough moonlight to cast long, creeping shadows across the floor.

Larry’s team, a crew of hardened men, waited in silence. Clad in black—hoodies, jeans, and combat boots—they were veterans of this trade, faces unreadable and cold. Their experience in the underworld showed: no one spoke, no unnecessary movements were made. But despite their calm exteriors, even they could feel something was off tonight.

Larry, the reluctant leader, made his rounds, his movements sharp and methodical. The crates in the corner, packed with firearms, represented more than just money—they were a ticket to Gerald’s trust. He couldn’t afford mistakes. Not on his first solo run.

"Everything set?" he barked, breaking the silence. His voice echoed, cutting through the stillness.

A burly man with a scarred face gave a curt nod. "We’re good. Just waiting for the signal."

Larry checked his watch. The trucks were late. He stepped outside, inhaling the crisp night air, his eyes scanning the empty road. It was too quiet. His instincts screamed at him, but he had no choice now. His phone buzzed in his pocket, making his pulse spike.

"Boss," he answered, forcing calm into his voice.

"Are you ready?" came Gerald’s smooth, commanding voice. It was more a statement than a question.

"Yeah. Just waiting for the trucks," Larry replied.

"Good. Make sure this goes perfectly, Larry. No slip-ups." Gerald’s words lingered, heavy with unspoken threat.

The line went dead. Larry pocketed his phone, exhaling through clenched teeth. This was his chance to prove himself, but doubt gnawed at him. The night was quiet, too quiet, until the distant rumble of engines reached his ears. The trucks were finally coming.

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Meanwhile, at Allure Fashion…

The atmosphere at Allure Fashion couldn’t have been more different. The sleek, modern office was buzzing with energy. Models strutted in and out of dressing rooms, swatches of fabric covered every surface, and designers fussed over the tiniest details. At the center of it all stood Sophia, her fingers flying across her keyboard as she juggled the demands of the company’s biggest global fashion project.

“Hey, Sophia,” Emily, her ever-curious assistant, approached with a playful grin. "What do you think about the color palette for the spring line?"

Sophia glanced up, barely pausing. "Looks good. Just make sure it’s consistent with the brand image. We can’t afford any mistakes."

Emily hesitated, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "So... I haven’t seen your friend Larry around. You two still just friends?"

Sophia laughed lightly, though a flicker of concern crossed her face. "Larry’s busy. It’s work, that’s all." But as she spoke, an unsettling realization crept in—Larry hadn’t been in touch for two days. She pushed the thought away, reminding herself she had more important things to focus on. Alexander, her husband, and work were her priorities.

As Sophia returned to her tasks, across the city, Larry was preparing for a night that could change everything.

The convoy of trucks rumbled down the dark highway, leaving the city lights behind. Larry led the way in his car, his eyes flicking constantly to the rearview mirror. The trucks, packed with firearms, carried more than just cargo—they carried his future. Everything seemed smooth, but Larry couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off.