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CHAPTER 92: ANOTHER DEAD END

Paul paced about the hospital room, images of the crumpled clothes and pictures swirling through his mind. His anger rose again. Cecilia was resting now, but not peacefully. He had promised her a life free of chaos, but now, that promise was slipping through his fingers. Seeing Cecilia break down like that... He gritted his teeth. He couldn't let this continue. He had to act, even if it meant reopening doors, and he had sworn to keep them shut. With a sharp breath, he grabbed his phone. There was only one man he knew who could help him now, though he despised the thought of calling him. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the contact. Do I want to do this? He sighed again, thinking things over. But then he glanced at Cecilia, her frail form under beddings, and his resolve hardened. He couldn't sit back and watch her suffer. He hit the dial. The line clicked, and a gruff voice answered. "Paul. Didn't think I'd hear from you again." Paul clenched his jaw. "Viktor, I need a favor

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