Chapter 14: Four Names

Zariah

The parking garage felt colder after Malik opened the envelope.

Maybe it was the concrete walls and the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. Maybe it was the black SUV sitting in the center of the garage like it had every right to be there. Or maybe it was the old photograph in Malik’s hand, the one that had stolen every bit of warmth from his face.

I couldn’t stop staring at it.

Five young men stood shoulder to shoulder in the faded picture, smiling like they had no idea what kind of men they would become. They looked young. Normal, even. Not like criminals. Not like killers. Not like the dangerous people I had come to associate with Malik’s world.

One face had been crossed out with red ink.

The other four were circled.

Including Malik.

“Who are they?” I asked quietly.

No one answered right away. Darius looked uncomfortable, which made my stomach twist because Darius never looked uncomfortable. Malik looked worse. Furious. Silent. Locked somewhere inside a memory he clearly had no intention of sharing.

Finally, he folded the photograph and slipped it into his pocket. “People from my past.”

I crossed my arms. “That’s not an answer.”

His eyes met mine. “It’ll have to be.”

Frustration rushed through me so fast it almost burned. It was the same frustration I had been carrying since the day of my father’s funeral. Everyone knew something. Everyone had secrets. Everyone expected me to blindly trust them while they handed me only pieces of the truth.

I was tired of it.

“Stop doing that,” I said.

Malik’s brows lowered. “Doing what?”

“Treating me like I can’t handle the truth.”

The garage went dangerously quiet. Several security guards suddenly became very interested in anything that wasn’t us. Smart men.

Malik stepped closer, not enough to threaten me, but enough to make me aware of him. He had a way of taking over the space around him without trying. It should have annoyed me more than it did.

“Some truths get people killed,” he said.

I lifted my chin. “I’m already on a hit list.”

That shut him up.

Good.

Because I was right. The mystery wasn’t protecting me anymore. It was only making me angry, and anger was easier to deal with than fear.

Before Malik could respond, Darius’s phone rang. He answered immediately, but within seconds his expression changed. Whatever he heard made his jaw tighten.

Malik noticed too. “What?”

Darius lowered the phone slowly. “We found Marcus.”

The name sent a ripple of tension through the group. Marcus. The man whose weapon had been connected to Reed’s murder. The man who had worked for Malik for twelve years. The suspected traitor.

“Where?” Malik asked.

“Warehouse District.”

“Alive?”

Darius hesitated just long enough to answer without speaking.

My stomach dropped.

Not again.

Not another dead body. Not another witness gone before we could get answers. Every lead ended the same way, and each death made the truth feel farther away instead of closer.

Malik was already moving. “Darius, with me.”

Darius nodded, but Malik’s attention shifted to me before he could take another step. The look on his face told me exactly what was coming.

“No,” I said.

His eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to tell me to stay here.”

Silence.

I pointed at him. “See? That face. That’s exactly what you were thinking.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I was.”

“Not happening.”

“Zariah.”

“No.”

The security team exchanged quick glances, probably taking bets on who would win this argument. Spoiler alert: it was going to be me. Eventually. Usually. Hopefully.

“I’m going,” I said.

“You’re not.”

“I’m part of this.”

“That’s exactly why you’re not.” Malik’s voice hardened, and for once there was no arrogance in it. Only fear disguised as control. “If whoever is behind this wanted you dead badly enough to break into my building, leave messages, infiltrate my security, and put your photograph inside my home, then I’m not taking you to an abandoned warehouse at midnight.”

I hated how reasonable that sounded. I hated it even more because I knew he was right. Unfortunately, knowing someone was right and admitting it were two very different things.

“Fine,” I said.

Suspicion crossed his face immediately. “Fine?”

“Yes.”

“You agreed too fast.”

I smiled sweetly. “Maybe I’m learning.”

His suspicion deepened. Smart man.

Darius snorted under his breath. I pretended not to hear him.

Malik stared at me for several long seconds before pointing toward one of his guards. “You.”

The guard straightened so fast I almost felt bad for him. “Yes, sir.”

“If she leaves the penthouse, call me.”

My mouth fell open. “You can’t assign me a babysitter.”

“I just did.”

The guard looked terrified, probably because he had just been assigned the world’s worst job: watching me.

An hour later, I stood inside Malik’s office pretending to read a book.

Pretending, because I hadn’t turned the page in twenty minutes.

The moment Malik left, the penthouse felt different. Quieter. Emptier. The tension was still there, but without him it had no center, no force holding it together. I hated that I noticed. I hated even more that part of me missed arguing with him.

I blamed stress.

Again.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. The guard Malik had assigned to me stepped inside, looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

“What?” I asked.

He swallowed. “Nadia is here.”

“Nadia?”

“The house manager.”

I blinked. The woman from the kitchen. The nice one. The normal one. Finally, a human being who didn’t speak in death threats and security protocols.

“Send her in.”

A moment later, Nadia entered carrying a tray with tea, cookies, and the kind of calm smile that made the penthouse feel almost normal for five seconds. She placed the tray on the table and looked at me with gentle concern.

“How are you holding up?”

I laughed before I could stop myself. The sound surprised both of us.

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

Her smile softened. “I figured.”

She poured tea with steady hands, but something about her felt different. Her eyes kept drifting toward the door, and her shoulders were too tense for someone simply delivering cookies.

“What is it?” I asked.

Nadia glanced toward the hallway to make sure the guard wasn’t listening, then lowered her voice. “Be careful.”

My stomach tightened. “About what?”

Her expression turned serious. “There are people in this building I don’t trust.”

Fear crawled up my spine. “What do you mean?”

Before she could answer, every light in the penthouse went out.

Again.

The tray crashed to the floor, the sound sharp and violent in the sudden darkness. A second later, a man screamed somewhere down the hallway.

Then came a gunshot.

My heart stopped.

Because Malik wasn’t here.

And for the first time since meeting him, I was completely alone.