The silence in the car was heavier than the humidity.
Daniel drove with one hand on the wheel, his knuckles white, the other hand resting on the gearshift, trembling slightly. The adrenaline dump was hitting him. The "Ghost" was receding, leaving a terrified husband in its wake.
He kept glancing at the dashboard clock. Then at the rearview mirror. Then at Elena.
"You're checking to see if we're followed," Elena said softly. She didn't ask. She stated it.
Daniel flinched. "I'm just... checking traffic."
"There is no traffic, Daniel. It's midnight on a Tuesday."
He pulled into their driveway. The garage door rumbled open, a mechanical yawn that swallowed the car. As soon as the engine cut, the silence rushed back in, ringing in their ears.
Daniel didn't get out. He gripped the steering wheel, his head bowing until his forehead touched the leather.
"I shouldn't have done that," he whispered. "I snapped. I broke a civilian's wrist in front of a hundred witnesses."
Elena reached over. She unbuckled his seatbelt. Then hers.
She slid across the center console, ignoring the pain in her ribs, and cupped his face in her hands.
"Look at me," she commanded.
Daniel looked. His eyes were haunted. The eyes of a man who thought he was a monster trying to play house.
"You defended me," Elena said firmly. "He was going to hurt me. You didn't do anything wrong."
"I enjoyed it," Daniel confessed, his voice cracking. "For a second... I wanted to do worse. Because he looked at you. Because he threatened our home." He closed his eyes. "I'm not a good man, El."
Elena kissed his forehead. Then his nose. Then his lips.
"I don't need a good man," she murmured against his mouth. "I need you."
I need a monster, she thought. Because I'm one too. And good men don't survive us.
Upstairs, the master bathroom felt like a bunker.
Elena locked the door. She turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the room—a habit from the old days. Steam disrupted laser microphones. Not that Daniel had bugged the bathroom, but old habits died hard.
She stood in front of the mirror and unzipped the red dress. It pooled at her feet like a puddle of blood.
She looked at the Black King necklace.
It sat against her collarbone, innocent and silver. A token of love.
"Let's see what you really are," she whispered.
She unclasped it. She didn't put it on the counter. She placed it on a thick towel to dampen any vibration sensors.
She opened the vanity drawer and pushed aside her makeup bag, reaching for a small, innocuous tin of mints.
Inside weren't mints. It was her Field Kit. Micro-screwdrivers. A signal jammer the size of a stick of gum. A modified SIM card reader.
She put a jeweler's loupe to her eye.
She examined the pendant.
"Clever," she murmured.
It wasn't just a GPS. It was a Type-4 Agency Transponder.
It didn't just ping location; it monitored heart rate and body temperature.
He isn't just tracking me, she realized, a chill running down her spine. He's monitoring my vitals. He wants to know if I'm scared. If I'm hurt.
It was the most invasive, controlling, obsessive thing anyone had ever given her.
She loved it.
It meant he cared enough to be psycho.
"But I can't have you watching me when I work, darling," she said to the necklace.
She didn't destroy it. If the signal died, Daniel would panic. He'd burn down the city looking for her.
She had to trick it.
She took out her burner phone. She connected it to the necklace's charging port using a needle-thin cable.
Her fingers flew across the tiny screen. Code scrolled in green waterfalls.
Step 1: Clone the ID.
Step 2: Create a Loop.
She programmed a "Ghost Signal."
Whenever she activated the protocol, the necklace would stop broadcasting her real location. Instead, it would broadcast a pre-recorded loop of her vitals (calm heart rate, 98.6 degrees) and a safe location.
She typed in the coordinates: The Oakwood Public Library.
"There," she whispered, tapping Execute. "Now, whenever I'm out hunting, you'll think I'm reading in the biography section."
She disconnected the cable. She put the kit away.
She clasped the necklace back around her throat.
The silver felt cold again.
The Leash was still there. But now, she held the handle.
She found Daniel in the kitchen.
He was sitting at the island, an ice pack pressed against his right hand. He had changed out of the tuxedo into sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looked smaller without the armor of the suit.
He was staring at his phone.
Elena knew exactly what he was looking at. The tracking app.
It showed a blinking blue dot right here. In the kitchen. Safe.
"Is it broken?" Elena asked, nodding at his hand.
Daniel jumped slightly. He turned the phone screen down.
"No. Just bruised. I have hard bones."
Elena walked over to him. She was wearing her silk robe now, covering the necklace.
She gently pulled the ice pack away.
His knuckles were swollen, turning a dark, angry purple. The skin was split where it had impacted Richard's watch.
"You need to be more careful," Elena said softly.
"He deserved it," Daniel grunted.
"I know." Elena went to the freezer. She pulled out a bag of frozen peas—the universal suburban ice pack. She wrapped it in a dish towel and pressed it to his hand.
"Daniel," she said.
"Yeah?"
"At the party... you got scared. Before Richard came back. You grabbed my hand like we were under attack."
Daniel froze.
He looked at her. He debated telling her the truth. I thought a super-assassin was standing next to you.
But he couldn't.
"I just... I thought I saw someone I knew," he lied. "Someone from my past. Someone bad."
"From Logistics?" Elena asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Corporate rivals," Daniel said. "They play dirty."
Elena stepped between his legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling the solid, reassuring weight of his muscles.
She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear.
"Let them come," she whispered. "We handled the burglars. We handled Richard. We can handle anyone."
Daniel wrapped his good arm around her waist, burying his face in her stomach.
"I just want you safe, El. I don't care about anything else. I would burn this whole city down if it kept the smoke away from you."
Elena stroked his hair.
She felt the vibration of his words in his chest. He meant it.
He was a dangerous, obsessive, violent man.
And he was hers.
"I know," she said.
Over his head, she looked out the window at the dark street.
The Black King necklace felt heavy against her skin.
She had tricked him tonight. But eventually, the loops would fail. Eventually, the signal would cross.
Enjoy the library, Daniel, she thought. Because tomorrow, the Queen goes to work.