Chapter 3

Derek was desperate to show off in front of the man he was trying so hard to impress.

He grabbed me by the hair and shoved my face toward the drop of soup on Melissa’s heel.

Some of the onlookers even started whistling.

“Come on, kid. Don’t be stupid. That’s ten grand. What’s one lick?”

“Exactly. If I had that chance, I’d clean the whole shoe.”

“Why act so noble? Delivery guys serve people for a living anyway.”

My face was less than two inches from Melissa’s heel.

All I had to do was open my mouth.

The money would be mine, and I could keep playing the part.

But if I did that, I would be betraying the badge I wore beneath this uniform.

Still, I had no choice.

Because just then, a faint crackle sounded in my earpiece.

That meant my team was blocking the signal on this floor and preparing to move in.

They needed thirty more seconds.

I had to buy them those thirty seconds.

I clenched my jaw, my whole body shaking from humiliation and tension.

To everyone else, it looked like I was trembling in fear.

“What’s wrong?” Victor said, his patience thinning. “Too dirty for you?”

The amusement in his eyes slowly turned cold.

His foot pressed harder over my hand.

Pain shot up my arm, and cold sweat broke out across my back.

“Derek, if he wants to keep his mouth shut, help him open it.”

“Gladly, Mr. Grant.”

Derek raised the baton with a cruel grin and aimed for my face.

But right before he swung, Victor suddenly frowned.

“Wait.”

He crouched down and grabbed the hand he had been stepping on.

Then his gaze locked on the calluses near my thumb and index finger.

The hands of delivery drivers usually bore marks from handlebars and carrying bags.

Mine were different.

Victor’s expression changed at once.

He lifted his head sharply and stared into my eyes.

“You’re a delivery guy?”

His voice dropped.

“Then why do your hands look like that?”

The air around us seemed to go still.

Melissa still hadn’t caught on. She asked sweetly, “Honey, what’s wrong? Who cares what his hands look like? Just make him lick—”

“Shut up, you idiot!”

Victor slapped her aside, then reached behind him and pulled out a gun.

The next second, the cold muzzle was pressed against my forehead.

“So the whole floor has no signal now, huh?”

Victor grinned, his finger tightening slowly.

“I knew something felt off today. Turns out a cop slipped in.”

His eyes bored into mine.

“Talk. How many people are outside?”

“Honey, are you crazy?” Melissa screamed from the floor. “Why are you pulling out some fake gun over a delivery guy?”

Derek swallowed hard and forced out a nervous laugh.

“Mr. Grant, that prop looks pretty real. Scaring him is enough. You don’t want it to accidentally—”

“I said shut up!”

A vein stood out on Victor’s forehead.

“He’s a cop. Didn’t you notice the signal on this whole floor has been jammed?”

The moment he said that, every resident and security guard who had been shouting earlier went pale.

Melissa looked like someone had seized her throat. Her mouth hung open, but no sound came out.

“A cop?” Derek’s knees weakened, and the baton slipped from his hand.

“I thought he was just a delivery guy…”

I slowly straightened up.

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and looked at Victor.

“You’re smart, Victor Grant.”

I let out a cold laugh.

“Three years on the run. Your counter-surveillance skills really are impressive.

“But do you know how much work we put in during those three years just to catch you?”

A faint beep sounded in my earpiece.

That was the signal.

Our sniper and tactical team were all in position.

Victor’s hand trembled, but he kept the gun aimed at me.

“Cut the crap! I have hostages. There are dozens of people on this floor. Worst case, we all go down together.”

He yanked Melissa toward him before she could react, swinging the gun between her and me.

“Tell your people to prepare a car and back off five hundred yards!”

“Honey! What are you doing? I’m your wife!” Melissa screamed.

“Shut up!” Victor snapped. “If you hadn’t picked a fight with this delivery guy, would I have been exposed?”

He struck her hard across the face.

“Victor, you think too highly of yourself.”

I stepped forward, meeting the gun head-on.

“You don’t get to negotiate.”

“You want to die?” Victor shouted.

His finger jerked.

A shot rang out.

At the same instant, I moved.

I knocked the gun off-line and jammed his shot before he could fire again.

In the next second, dozens of red laser dots locked onto Victor’s body.

A thunderous command echoed through the lobby.

“Metro SWAT! Drop the weapon!”