Alexia’s arms crossed over her chest, her fingers digging into her sides. “The truth is… what, Elliot?”

His jaw tensed, the silence stretching as he weighed his next words. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by something far more vulnerable.

“The truth is…” He let out a slow exhale. “I didn’t just do it to protect you.”

A sharp chill ran through her. “Then why?”

Elliot stepped closer. “Because I needed to know you were safe. Because I couldn’t—” He hesitated, his expression dark with something unspoken. “Because I didn’t want to lose you.”

Alexia’s pulse pounded. “You manipulated my life, Elliot. My career. My home. You made sure I had no other choice.”

His gaze flickered with something she couldn’t place. “I made sure you weren’t alone.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Elliot reached for her, but she stepped back. His fingers curled into a fist at his side.

“Tell me you don’t feel this,” he said, voice lower now, heavier.

Alexia’s throat tightened. “Feel what?”

Instead of answering, he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was heat and frustration, a collision of emotion that neither of them could control.

Her hands pressed against his chest—not to push him away, but to steady herself against the sudden storm. His grip tightened at her waist, pulling her closer.

Then she broke away, panting, shaking her head.

“I’m not in the mood for this, Elliot.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “Really?”

His hands traced a slow path along her spine, and before she could find words, he kissed her again—slower this time, teasing, deliberate.

And then, just as suddenly, she pulled back again, her voice raw. “Not tonight.”

Elliot searched her eyes, then exhaled.

He released her, stepping back.

The following morning, a stifling tension hung in the conference room.

Ava’s voice was steady. “Mae gave up two names—Megan Franks and Stan Baker. She claims that’s all she knows.”

Harris let out a low breath. “That’s a lie.”

Jacob nodded. “She’s protecting someone.”

Elliot drummed his fingers against the table. “We need leverage.”

“Ben and I are going back in,” said Ava determined.

Ben’s gazed at Ava, a silent agreement passing between them.

Taylor frowned. “And after that?”

Ben’s voice was like steel. “We decide what happens to Mae.”

A moment of silence followed.

Elliot looked at Alexia, then back at Ava. “If she’s lying, we need to break her.”

Ava’s expression darkened. “Oh, I will.”

The room settled into uneasy silence.

The underground holding room was dim. Mae sat slouched in the chair, her wrists draped over the armrests in a show of false confidence. She had been here long enough to know they weren’t going to rough her up—not physically, at least.

But she wasn’t dealing with ordinary interrogators.

The door opened, and Ava stepped inside. She didn’t sit. Didn’t rush. She let the silence press in like a slow-moving vice.

Mae smirked. “You again? I was hoping for a change of scenery.”

Ava tilted her head slightly, studying Mae like she was a puzzle missing pieces. “You want scenery? I can arrange that. Solitary confinement has a lovely, windowless view.”

Mae’s smirk twitched, but she held her ground. “Go ahead. Not like I have much to say.”

Ava folded her arms, her tone casual. “You gave us names. Now we need locations.”

Mae leaned back, feigning boredom. “Even if I knew, you think I’d tell you?”

Ava exhaled, then turned her back on Mae as if she wasn’t worth the effort. “Alright. We’re done here.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

She walked toward the door.

Mae frowned slightly, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “That’s it?”

The door opened again.

Ben stepped inside.

His presence alone shifted the air in the room. He didn’t say a word at first—just closed the door behind him and leaned against it, arms crossed. His dark eyes locked onto Mae, unreadable but sharp.

The silence stretched.

Mae swallowed.

Ben finally moved, dragging a chair across the floor and positioning it directly in front of Mae. The loud scraping sound filled the small space, grating against her nerves. He sat, elbows resting on his knees, staring at her like a predator sizing up its prey.

Mae’s fingers twitched slightly on the armrests.

Ben’s voice was low, controlled. “You think they’ll come for you?”

Mae scoffed, but it lacked confidence. “What’s it to you?”

Ben leaned in, just slightly. “They left you to rot.”

Mae’s jaw clenched.

“You were a useful distraction,” Ben continued, his tone almost conversational. “But now? You’re a loose end. And people like them don’t like loose ends.”

Mae looked away, pressing her lips together.

Ava watched the exchange, her arms still folded. She had seen Ben work before—his patience, his precision. He didn’t use force. He used the truth, wielding it like a scalpel.

Ben exhaled slowly. “This is your last chance, Mae. You either help yourself, or you make peace with the fact that no one out there gives a damn about you.”

A tense pause.

Mae’s shoulders sagged slightly. She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “There’s a house,” she muttered. “Ten miles out. Off the main road. They were there a few days ago.”

Ben held her gaze a second longer, then stood.

Ava turned to Taylor. “Lock her down. No one in, no one out.”

Taylor nodded, stepping forward.

Mae let out a bitter laugh. “You’re wasting your time. They’ll be long gone.”

Ava met Ben’s gaze. “Maybe. But let’s find out.”

They left without another word.

The sun hung high, casting sharp shadows across the rural landscape as Ben, Harris, Steven, and Jacob drove along a desolate road just outside of town. The SUV rumbled over the uneven asphalt, the air thick with dust and dry heat.

Harris checked the GPS on his phone. “The house should be about a quarter mile off the main road, down that dirt path.”

Ben slowed the vehicle, eyes scanning the area. The landscape was sparse—rolling hills, clusters of trees, but no nearby houses in sight. The location was smart. Isolated. Easy to defend.

Steven, sitting up front, adjusted his earpiece. “This place has been in use recently. No way they stayed put, but if we’re lucky, we’ll find something useful.”

Ben pulled off onto the dirt road, tires crunching over loose gravel as they made their way toward the house. The structure came into view—a small, run-down place, its paint peeling, a broken porch step sagging under its own weight. The yard was overgrown, and a single window had its curtains drawn.

Jacob scanned the surroundings. “No cars, no movement. Doesn’t mean it’s empty.”

Ben killed the engine and stepped out first, adjusting his weapon holster. “Harris, Jacob—take the back. Steven, you’re with me up front. Move quietly.”

They split up, Harris and Jacob disappearing around the side while Ben and Steven approached the front porch. Every step on the wooden boards creaked under their weight.

Ben tried the door. Unlocked.

A glance at Steven was all it took, and they moved in.

The inside smelled of dust and stale air. Sunlight filtered through slanted blinds, casting sharp lines across the wooden floor. The place was in disarray—an open duffel bag near the couch, empty takeout containers, a half-finished bottle of water on the counter.

Steven crouched near a stack of papers on a small table. “They were just here.”

Ben kneeled, running his fingers over faint tracks in the dust. “Less than a day ago.”

Harris and Jacob entered through the back. “Clear,” Harris reported. “But you’re gonna want to see this.”

He tossed a folder onto the rickety kitchen table. Ben flipped it open, his gaze locking onto a map—of the estate.

Steven leaned over his shoulder. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Handwritten notes lined the edges of the map. Timelines. Schedules. Security checkpoints.

Ben exhaled sharply.

“They weren’t just hiding out,” he muttered. “They were watching us.”

Jacob scanned the room. “So, where the hell are they now?”

Ben shut the folder. “Gone—but not far.”

He turned to Harris. “Bag everything useful. We take it back to the estate.”

As they exited the house, the afternoon heat bore down on them. The silence felt heavier now.

Whoever they were dealing with wasn’t just running.

They were planning.

And the next move was coming.

The estate’s conference room was tense as Ben, Harris, Steven, and Jacob returned from their fruitless search. Ava and Elliot were already seated, waiting, while Alexia sat at the far end of the table, her fingers drumming lightly against its surface. The air was thick with frustration—another dead end.

Ben tossed the crumpled receipt onto the table. “They were there. Not long ago. But they’re gone now.”

Ava frowned, picking it up. “A hardware store receipt?”

“Dated yesterday,” Steven added. “Could be nothing, could be something. They left in a hurry, but they weren’t careless.”

Elliot exhaled sharply. “So, we’re still chasing ghosts.”

A heavy silence followed, each of them deep in thought.

Then Alexia’s fingers froze mid-drum against the table.

Something clicked.

A voice. Not just any voice—the one from the burner phone message. The one that had been haunting the edges of her memory for days.

Her pulse quickened.

Ava noticed the shift in her expression. “Alexia?”

Alexia swallowed hard, looking at Ava. “I know that voice.”

The room went still.

Ben leaned forward. “Who?”

Alexia closed her eyes, searching for her memories. The cadence, the way the words had been spoken—where had she heard it before? And then — 209.

Her eyes snapped open.

“Marla Richards,” she said, her voice firm. “She lived in apartment 209 at my old place.”

Elliot stiffened. “You’re sure?”

Alexia nodded. “I never really knew her, just ran into her in the hall. But I heard her voice plenty of times. And that message—‘I was wondering when you’d call.’ It was her. I’d bet everything on it.”

Ava sat back, absorbing the revelation. “So, she’s connected to Megan and Stan.”

“She wasn’t just a neighbor. I remember something else—she used to talk with Kelton Rioz, the landlord. They were always whispering in the hallway.”

Ava’s mind went into overdrive. “Kelton Rioz…” she repeated. “That’s a name I haven’t heard before.”

Alexia nodded. “He was always around. Watching. Listening. I thought he was just nosy, but now—”

Elliot’s face darkened. “Now it makes sense.”

Ben stood. “Then we have our next targets.”

Ava’s jaw tightened. “I’ll dig into both of them. If they’re tied to Megan and Stan, they’re working for someone bigger.”

“If they’ve been moving this carefully, they won’t be easy to track,” said Harris.

Ava’s lips curved slightly. “They’re careful. But they’re not ghosts. We’ll find them.”

Elliot met Alexia’s gaze. “You just gave us our first real lead.”

Alexia swallowed, exhaling. She hadn’t expected to be the one to break the case wide open.

Ava stood. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning. I’ll have answers by then.”

Elliot turned back to Alexia, his voice quieter. “You, okay?”

She gave a small nod. “Yeah. Just… processing.”

Ben clapped a hand on the table. “Then let’s get to work.”

The meeting ended, but the weight of what they had just uncovered lingered. The chase was far from over—if anything, it had only just begun.