Josie found herself abruptly pulled into a close embrace by Arnold, their bodies entangled in a moment that blurred the lines between confrontation and intimacy. The cool evening air brushed against Josie’s hair, casting a serene yet tense atmosphere around them. “Release me!”

Having secured the firearm from her grasp, Arnold stepped back, examining the gun with an air of contemplation. “Imagine Dexter’s reaction if he were to see us now. I suspect he’d be less than pleased, to say the least,” he speculated, half-jokingly.

Her focus shifted, catching Arnold off guard. “Everything you’ve just shared with me… was any of it fabricated?” she inquired, seeking truth amid the web of uncertainty that surrounded them.

Arnold’s gaze shifted away for a moment, betraying a hint of discomfort. “Why would I fabricate such a tale? This vessel is rigged with explosives, hidden at its very core. Should Mr. Dalton catch wind of any betrayal, he won’t hesitate to detonate them,” he revealed, his tone somber.

Josie dişmissed the notion with a shake of her head, “That doesn’t add up. If Mr. Dalton had truly wished for your demise, you wouldn’t have escaped unscathed from our first encounter. You’re valuable to him; he wouldn’t squander his trump card so recklessly.”

The mention of their shared past elicited a chuckle from Arnold, though his amusement quickly faded, replaced by a serious demeanor. “Do you have any idea how I survived back then?” he posed the question, locking eyes with her, waiting for an answer that she did not have.

In those days, Arnold recounted, many had been dispatched in an attempt to capture him, a mission led by Dexter’s forces. He found himself adrift, surrounded, and outgunned. Ultimately, he made a daring escape, plunging into the river at Rivodia’s edge and swimming to freedom.

Bruised and battered, he sought an audience with Wayne, offering his loyalty and begging for a second chance.

once shattered, was not

contemplative. After a moment of silence, he posed a question that cut to the core, “Arnold, at this moment, what

carrying the weight of his fallen state. “I’m

from Wayne, a reaction that underscored the

and standing within the inner circle demanded more than mere apologies; it necessitated a journey through trials and tribulations. Arnold was cast

him, each a potential death sentence if failed. Triumphing over these obstacles was his only path back to Wayne’s

to show Josie the scars that adorned his arm-a vivid record of his past struggles. The skin

a stark reflection of the resignation that had taken hold of

instinctively looking away, unable to meet his gaze. While she felt no sympathy for Arnold, believing his current predicament to be the consequence of his

poignant memory of his return to Wayne’s side, recounting how he was immersed

to such a state over a mere woman. Are you content now?” Wayne had inquired, his

vowed, “I will

still

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