Chapter 12: Paper, Plastic, and Boston City.

ARY

Chase Chappelle stepped into Ary’s penthouse office at night, carrying his briefcase.

“The storm's getting worse,” he said, as he hung his dripping coat on the rack.

Ary didn’t look up from the document he was signing. “Sit.”

Chappelle did.

“I traced Dina’s activities for the past seven years,” Chappelle said, placing a thin folder on Ary’s desk. “Returning to Boston makes perfect sense.”

“Go on.”

Chappelle cleared his throat. “She got relegated.”

Ary paused mid-signature.

“Relegated?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Sir.” Chappelle opened the folder, tapping at a photo. “Shawn Davis. No verifiable employment for the past three years. She took him on as a lover and - well, let's just say, he did a number on her.”

Ary’s jaw ticked. “A parasite.”

“Precisely.” Chappelle slid a photo forward. “He targeted her. Built a relationship patiently, and then fed her a series of ‘investment opportunities.’”

Ary’s expression didn’t change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

“He convinced her,” Chappelle continued, “to gradually liquidate shares from Banks’ Corporation. Her shares.”

“She squandered my father’s legacy,” Ary said quietly.

“In her defense, “Chappelle added carefully. “she believed she was transferring them into a private portfolio in her name. The accounts weren’t hers. And then he left her. His current location is unknown at the moment.”

Ary stilled. “How much?”

“Most of it.” Chappelle nodded. “All legal on paper. She signed all the way. He had her wrapped around his finger. She must have… loved him.”

Ary leaned back, fingers steepled. “Mm,” he murmured, the sound more judgment than acknowledgment.

“This guy is good.” Chappelle’s voice lowered. “She tried to report him. But she'd no proof.”

Ary shut the folder gently and took a slow breath.

“Dina never does anything without a motive,” he said. “The more desperate she is, the more calculating she becomes. Stay on her.”

“Got it.”

Ary rose from his chair.

“As for this Shawn Davis,” he said softly, “Get everything on him.”

Chappelle nodded once. “Understood.”

“You're dismissed.”

After Chappelle left, he stood looking out at the rain-blurred city.

“The great Dina Banks,” he murmured. “Undone by love.”

He exhaled faintly.

“I'd never have to worry about that.”

~~~~~

BRAD

“What the hell were you thinking, sending your thugs to my house?” Brad breathed hot over the phone.

He'd searched the streets around the dumpster where he recovered Elena’s phone.

He didn't find her. Back at home, he confirmed the card was gone.

“Well,” Toni Morano answered coolly. “Now you know how it feels to be blind-sided.”

Brad swallowed whatever insult was on his tongue, exhaling roughly through the mouth.

“If you paid me what I truly deserved for all the shit I do for you, I'd never have had to play the blackmail card on you.”

A low laugh slipped through the line.

“Deserved?” Toni echoed. “Brad… you got greedy.”

Brad bristled. “Don’t talk to me like-”

“I’ll talk to you exactly how your stupidity earns,” Toni snapped, suddenly sharp. “You don’t get to play the injured party in a fight you started.”

Brad paced his trashed living room, breath uneven, eyes darting over overturned furniture and shattered glass. “They scared my wife off, Toni. You better pray I find her. For both our sakes.”

A pause.

“And what the fuck does that mean?” Toni’s tone flattened.

“I'll call you back,” Brad shot back and hung up before Toni could speak further.

“Damn it!” He kicked the opened duffel on the floor. It flew against the wall, Elena’s dress spilling to the floor.

He froze.

Slowly, he bent, grabbed the bag, and shook the contents out.

Another dress spilled out.

Then a neat roll of cash.

And finally, her passport.

His lips curled into a slow, poisonous smirk.

“Someone left behind her getaway bag, huh?”

He picked up the passport, flicked it open, and dragged a thumb over her picture.

“How far can you go without any money, sweetheart?”

His smile widened, darkening.

“Not far enough. I guess I'll be seeing you soon.”

~~~~~

ELENA

The Lawrence train station loomed ahead, lit in harsh white.

Screens flashed with schedules. Announcements blared. The loud screech of brakes couldn't drown out my heart’s rapid pulse.

I bought a ticket for the first train out. Northeast bound - Boston City.

Onboard, I stayed unnaturally alert, scanning every neck and arm for black scorpion tattoos, half-expecting a very pissed-off Brad to appear and drag me back.

Why was the train not moving yet?

“Child, are you alright?” an elderly lady sitting beside me asked.

Startled, I turned to her. “What?”

“You seem...” She searched my face.

I forced a smile, shaking my head. “I'm fine.” But my knees shook. My hands trembled.

The announcement came over the speakers; the doors were closing.

Finally, the train lurched forward. I looked out the window. Lawrence soon disappeared out of sight.

My racing heart eventually slowed after we passed two other stations.

“I did it!” It was barely a whisper but it felt deafening. Tears slid freely. I wiped them off.

“I did it!” I repeated, slightly louder this time. I turned to see the elderly woman beside me asleep.

“I'm fine.” I told her, anyway. “I'm gonna be fine now.”

An hour later, the train slid into Boston City terminal. Station lights glared through the windows as commuters flooded the platform like a tide.

This was only the beginning of the longest night of my life.

And in a big city packed with people, I felt more alone than I had been in Brad’s house.

I touched the sonogram, a fragile square of paper, still tucked in my pocket, the only proof of the life I'd to protect.

Pressed tight in my palm was Brad’s SD card. Plastic, feather-light, yet heavier than any secret I’d ever carried.

Paper and plastic - my only possessions.

One, a reason to live.

The other, a reason to die.

I stepped out of the subway into the busiest traffic I've ever seen. Wet air. Hissing cars. Towering lights. The city roared around me. A late train rattled somewhere underground.

Finally, I had gotten away from Brad.

“Now what?”