Katy P.O.V
I arrived in Poland in the middle of the night when the city felt like it was holding its breath.The lights were fewer, the streets quieter and the cold air cut through my coat like a warning I chose to ignore.I checked into an expensive hotel in the heart of the city,not because I wanted comfort, but because luxury had always been my armor. If danger came looking for me, it would expect me to hide in shadows, not sleep under crystal chandeliers.
The room was silent when I finally dropped my bag.Too silent. I sank into the couch instead of the bed,exhaustion pressing down on my shoulders, my mind still racing with James Bron's name, with Acadia, with secrets that refused to stay buried.
That was when my phone rang.
The caller was Richardo.
My heart clenched before I even answered.
"You ain't in your apartment" He said the moment I picked up.His voice was calm, but there was something sharp beneath it. "Where are you?"
I stared at the city lights through the window, my reflection staring back at me like a stranger.
"I'm in Poland"
There was a pause. Not with surprise,but calculation.
"Poland?" He asked slowly. "Why would you travel all the way there?"
I opened my mouth to tell him everything. About Acadia. About James Bron. About the evidence I was chasing like a ghost. But doubt slid into my chest like poison. The same doubt that had been whispering for weeks now screamed louder.
What if you're talking to the enemy?
"It's nothing" I said instead, forcing my voice to steady. "I just needed some time alone"
His breath changed on the other end.
"Why do you have to leave now?" He said. "The law needs you. And the murderer who killed your father is still out there"
"I know!" I snapped,gripping the phone tighter, anger burning behind my eyes.
He kept talking about the firm, about appearances, about responsibility. Each word felt like a chain tightening around my throat. I barely heard him anymore. My thoughts drifted to the nights he disappeared without explanation, the unanswered calls, the way his eyes sometimes looked...unreadable.
"Please stop!" I suddenly yelled. "You have no right to tell me where to go or how to live my life!"
Silence took over for a while.
"You vanished for days" I continued, my voice shaking now. "No calls. No texts. And now you suddenly remember I exist because you want to know where I am? You didn't even check if I was okay"
He didn't answer immediately.
"I told you I was busy" He finally said. "Why don't you understand me?"
Something inside me broke.
"Richardo" I whispered,tears stinging my eyes, "I don't think we're meant for each other. Let's end it"
The line went dead.
He hung up.
I stared at my phone like it had just betrayed me.
Anger rushed in first-hot, violent, blinding. I told myself this was right. Necessary. Smart. If he really was James Bron...if he was lying to me...then loving him would destroy me.
I called Donald next,my fingers trembling.
He answered quickly. "Miss Katy, Richardo came to your apartment earlier"
"I know" I said flatly. "I broke up with him"
Donald hesitated. "Staying close to him would've made exposing his real identity easier"
"I don't care anymore" I replied. "I'm tired. I'm sick of questioning everything"
"Keep watching him closely and find out what it does behind the law"
"Ok, Miss Katy" Donald said softly. "I'll always help you. Anytime"
The call ended.
And then the silence returned heavier than before.
I slid down onto the couch, hugging myself as if I could hold my heart together with my arms. The tears came without warning. I cried the way people do when they're alone for the first time-quiet at first, then breaking, then uncontrollable.
I loved him.
That was the cruelest truth.
I loved him enough to imagine a life where he wasn't dangerous, where he wasn't hiding something dark, where he was just a man with flaws instead of secrets soaked in blood. I would've stayed. I would've fought the world for him.
If he hadn't lied.
My chest ached so badly it felt like my heart was bruising itself from the inside. I turned my face into the cushion, sobbing until my body shook, until loving him hurt more than leaving him.
Poland was cold.
The truth was colder.
And somewhere out there, the man I loved might also be the monster I am hunting.
Laurel P.O.V
I stayed in the room longer than I planned, the quietness pressing against my chest until hunger finally gave me a reason to move.
The silence inside the penthouse felt too loud like it was listening. I checked the lock twice before slipping on my coat.
I changed slowly, choosing clothes that wouldn't draw attention like hiding was a skill I could suddenly master.
The mirror reflected a lady who no longer recognized herself. I looked thinner, sharper like fear had carved me into someone else.
I had heard about a restaurant which wasn't close. It sat beyond a narrow road most people avoided at night,a stretch of darkness with broken streetlights and walls that swallowed sound.
I hesitated at the entrance of that road,my instincts screaming, but hunger and stubborn pride pushed me forward. I refused to let Richardo or the thought of him control where I could and couldn't walk.
Each step echoed too clearly. My heels clicked against the pavement and the sound felt like an announcement. I kept my head high, even though my pulse thudded violently in my ears. This city had taught me one thing,fear was weakness and weakness was hunted.
Nothing happened.
No footsteps. No shadows moving wrong. No men stepping out of the dark.
That somehow made it worse.
The restaurant glowed like a secret at the end of the road-warm lights, tall glass windows, laughter spilling out like it belonged to another world. Inside, everything changed. Soft music curled through the air.
The décor was rich and bold, Mexican-inspired with deep reds, gold accents and hanging lanterns that cast gentle shadows. Couples sat close, smiling, whispering, touching hands like danger didn't exist.
The music wrapped around me, slow and emotional, and for a moment I let myself pretend I was just another lady out for dinner. But loneliness stood across from me like an uninvited guest. Every laugh from another table felt distant, unreal.
I was shown to a table near the corner and I ordered an Australian traditional dish without thinking,comfort food from a life that felt unreal now.
When the plate arrived, beautifully arranged, I stared at it for a long moment before eating. The taste was perfect. Too perfect. It made my chest ache.
I watched people around me as I ate-how easily they laughed, how freely they leaned into each other. I remembered Scarlett's laughter. Sally's sharp sarcasm. Sophie's voice. The memories hit harder than the hunger ever did.
By the time I left, the restaurant felt like a dream I didn't belong in.
The narrow road was darker on the way back.
No music. No cars. No voices. Just darkness stretching ahead like a mouth waiting to close. I told myself not to panic. Fear feeds on imagination.
The streetlights flickered like dying eyes. My steps slowed. My breath shallow. Every instinct screamed again, louder this time. I told myself again to stay calm. Panic attracts predators.
Then I heard a soft sound behind me.
I stopped.
The sound stopped too.
My stomach twisted. I turned slowly, my heart hammering so hard it hurt. Nothing. Just darkness stretching back endlessly. I forced a shaky breath and kept walking.
Another sound returned.
Closer.
This time, it didn't stop when I did.
I spun around and a cat darted across the road, disappearing into the shadows. I laughed under my breath, sharp and brittle, angry at myself for being weak.
Then I heard footsteps.
Not echoes. Not mine.
Someone else's.
My pace quickened. The footsteps matched me.
I stopped.
They stopped.
I turned.
Nothing.
Cold fear slid down my spine like ice water. I could feel it now,that heavy sensation of being watched. Studied. Measured. My ears rang. My vision narrowed.
The footsteps came again. Faster. Closer.
I ran.
My breath tore from my lungs as I fastened my steps, the sound of pursuit pounding behind me. I didn't look back. I couldn't. Every nerve screamed run. The road seemed endless, the darkness swallowing everything but terror.
My mind screamed Richardo's men. It screamed you didn't escape. It screamed this is where they take you.
The footsteps grew louder, uneven now like whoever was following me secretly didn't care if I knew anymore.
Then-
A hand grabbed my shoulder.
I screamed.
The sound tore out of me raw and wild as I spun around,my heart pounding hard in my chest-
-and suddenly I realised I was standing at the edge of a busy street.
Light. Noise. Cars. People walking like the world hadn't just tried to swallow me whole.
I staggered forward, spinning around wildly.
No one was there.
No footsteps. No shadow. No hand.
Only the long, silent road behind me, empty and watching.
I pushed into the crowd without thinking,letting strangers brush past me just to feel real bodies around mine and I blended into the people who had no idea how close I felt to disappearing. My heart refused to slow even as the bright lights of Pris Penthouse rose ahead of me like a fortress.
Inside the building, everything felt wrong. Too normal. Too alive. People laughed, talked, moved freely as if nothing hunted them after dark.
As if nothing hunted me.
I locked my apartment door the moment I entered, my hands trembling. I kicked off my heels, sliding into white flip-flops, trying to ground myself in something soft and familiar. I checked the windows. The locks. Twice. Three times.
"It was just your imagination" I whispered to myself.
But my body didn't believe it.
I collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion dragging me under. My eyes burned. My muscles ached. Fear clung to me like a second skin.
"Everything will be alright" I told the ceiling, though the words felt like lies.
I yawned once. Then again.
And sleep finally dragged me under,but one thought stayed awake in the dark with me-
Someone had followed me.
And whoever it was...
Let me go on purpose.