CHAPTER 11 THE WATCHER

Miyaka stood several feet away from the stranger.

She couldn't explain the feeling in her chest.

There was something familiar about him.

His eyes.

The way he stood.

Even the quiet expression on his face.

She had seen those eyes before.

Somewhere.

A long time ago.

“Do I know you?” she asked again.

The man said nothing.

Miyaka took another step closer.

“Why did you ask me to come here?”

He looked at her.

“I wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“Your racing.”

She frowned.

“My racing?”

“Yes.”

“That's all?”

His eyes remained on hers.

“For now.”

Miyaka didn't believe him.

There was something he wasn't telling her.

And she wasn't the only one who knew it.

Across the street, inside a parked black SUV, a man watched them through a long-lens camera.

He pressed an earpiece.

“They're together.”

A voice answered through the speaker.

“Is it him?”

The watcher zoomed in.

“Yes.”

“Confirm.”

The man watched Moises carefully.

“There is no doubt.”

A pause.

Then the voice became colder.

“Don't interfere.”

The watcher lowered the camera.

“Understood.”

“Let them talk.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know how long Moises can pretend.”

The call ended.

The watcher smiled faintly.

Then he sent one photograph.

Moises and Miyaka standing only a few feet apart.

The photograph traveled to a private phone.

The name displayed on the screen was:

Victor Armand.

Victor looked at the photograph.

For years, he had heard stories about the missing Laurent heir.

For years, he had watched the Laurent family protect its secrets.

And now he had finally discovered the one thing that could make Moises Laurent vulnerable.

Miyaka Reyes.

Victor smiled.

“So…”

He leaned back in his chair.

“You really did come back for her.”

He looked at another photograph.

One taken earlier that day.

Miyaka racing.

Then another.

Miyaka talking to Jason.

Then another.

Miyaka leaving her home.

Victor placed them side by side.

“Interesting.”

His assistant stood nearby.

“What do you want us to do?”

Victor shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Not yet.”

He tapped the photograph of Miyaka.

“If we hurt her now, Moises will become defensive.”

“And if we leave her alone?”

Victor smiled.

“He'll move closer.”

The assistant understood.

“You want them together.”

“I want them to believe they're finally safe.”

Victor's smile disappeared.

“Then we'll take away the safety.”

---

Back at the meeting place, Miyaka stared at Moises.

“You're hiding something.”

Moises' expression remained calm.

“Everyone hides something.”

“Not me.”

He almost smiled.

That sounded exactly like the Miyaka he remembered.

She had always been terrible at pretending.

“You don't know me,” he said.

Miyaka's eyes narrowed.

“Then why do I feel like you do?”

Moises' heart tightened.

He wanted to tell her.

Because I know you.

Because I remember your laugh.

Because I remember the old tree.

Because I remember the first time you held my hand.

Because I kept every letter you never received.

Instead, he said nothing.

Then his eyes moved briefly toward the dark street.

Miyaka noticed.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

She turned.

“Someone's there.”

Moises immediately stepped closer.

“Don't.”

She looked at him.

“Why?”

“Because you don't know who's watching.”

Her expression changed.

“Someone is watching us?”

Moises didn't answer.

That was answer enough.

Miyaka's heartbeat accelerated.

“Who?”

“I don't know.”

“You brought me here.”

“I didn't.”

“What?”

Moises looked at her.

“I didn't send the message asking you to come here.”

Miyaka froze.

“Then who did?”

Moises stared into the darkness.

His instincts screamed.

Someone had planned this.

Someone had brought Miyaka to this location.

And someone wanted them together.

He looked back at her.

“You need to leave.”

“No.”

“Miyaka—”

She stopped.

Her eyes widened.

He had said her name.

Not Ms. Reyes.

Not you.

Her name.

Miyaka.

She stared at him.

“How do you know my name?”

Moises went completely still.

He had made a mistake.

A tiny mistake.

But enough.

Miyaka stepped closer.

“How do you know my name?”

He couldn't answer.

She studied his face.

Then suddenly—

A memory.

A little boy standing beneath an old tree.

Dark eyes.

A crooked smile.

A familiar voice.

Miyaka.

Her breath caught.

“No…”

Moises' heart stopped.

She whispered,

“Moises?”

The silence was unbearable.

For one second, he almost admitted everything.

Then a red laser dot appeared briefly on the building behind Miyaka.

Moises saw it.

His expression changed instantly.

“Miyaka, get down!”

He grabbed her and pulled her behind a parked vehicle.

“What are you doing?”

“Stay down.”

“Moises—”

“Don't say my name.”

She stared at him.

“You ARE him.”

Moises looked at her.

His eyes were filled with everything he had spent years hiding.

“Yes.”

Miyaka's lips parted.

Tears immediately filled her eyes.

“You came back.”

Moises reached toward her.

Then stopped himself.

Because across the street, the watcher lowered his camera.

He had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Confirmation.

He immediately called Victor.

“Sir.”

Victor answered.

“Did he admit it?”

The watcher smiled.

“Yes.”

Victor leaned back.

“Excellent.”

He looked at the photograph of Miyaka.

Then at the photograph of Moises.

“Now we know exactly where to hurt him.”

The watcher asked,

“Should we take her?”

Victor shook his head.

“No.”

“Then what?”

Victor smiled.

“Let Moises believe he has finally found her.”

His eyes became cold.

“Because the moment he believes he can keep her…”

Victor looked at the two photographs again.

“…that's when we'll make him lose everything.”

---

Meanwhile, Miyaka was still staring at Moises.

Four years of waiting.

Four years of questions.

Four years of wondering.

And now the boy who promised to return was standing in front of her.

But something was wrong.

Moises wasn't smiling.

He wasn't running toward her.

He wasn't saying he missed her.

Instead, he looked afraid.

Miyaka whispered,

“Why are you scared?”

Moises looked toward the darkness.

“Because someone is watching us.”

“Who?”

His eyes returned to hers.

“Victor Armand.”

Miyaka's heart stopped.

“Who is he?”

Moises took her hand.

For the first time in four years, he held it again.

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Someone who knows exactly how much I love you.”

And somewhere across the street, the watcher disappeared into the night.

The game had officially begun.