LOGINRICHARDSON'S POV I stepped into the dimly lit apartment of the most discreet hacker in the city, and I could not shake the feeling that something was shifting beneath my feet.The building was old, hidden between two abandoned warehouses by the docks. The stairwell smelled of damp concrete and rusted iron. I knocked once.The door opened halfway, and a pair of sharp, assessing eyes stared at me from behind thick lenses.“You’re late,” the man said flatly.“I didn’t give you a time,” I replied, pushing past him without waiting for permission.His apartment was dark except for the glow of multiple monitors illuminating the walls in a cold blue light. Cables ran across the floor like veins. Screens flickered with data, code cascading endlessly.His name was Felix. He shut the door behind me. “You said it was urgent.”“It is.”He motioned toward a chair. I didn’t sit.“I need everything on Alexander,” I said. “Every record. Every erased file. I want his past dug up like a corpse.”Feli
RICHARDSON'S POV.The club was dark, the kind of darkness that swallowed the room in shadows while neon lights sliced through it like knives. The bass thumped through the floorboards, rattling my chest with every beat, yet I barely noticed. My mind was elsewhere, on Abigail, on Tristan, on the constant, gnawing frustration that no matter what I did, she always managed to slip through my fingers.“You’re not looking happy tonight,” a familiar voice said beside me. I turned my head slightly, squinting through the haze.“Not happy?” I repeated, letting a bitter laugh escape. “I’m far from happy. Nothing is going according to plan.”My friend, Darius, leaned back on the booth across from me, a grin tugging at his lips. “Ah, I see. Abigail again, I take it?”I didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to swirl the drink, listening to it slosh against the sides of the glass. “She’s untouchable,” I said finally. “Every move I make, every step I plan, she anticipates it. Even now, Alexander
JOSELYN'S POVThe chill of the evening bit through my coat as I stepped out of the car and looked up at the building that housed the man I had come to rely on the hacker. He called himself Gantz, though I suspected it was as fake as his credentials. Still, the guy knew things. Dangerous things. Things that could unravel Abigail’s perfect little facade, and I was willing to pay any price to get my hands on them.I walked through the side entrance, the smell of electronics, stale coffee, and cigarette smoke hitting me immediately. The fluorescent lights flickered, as though the building itself didn’t want to stay awake at this hour. Gantz’s silhouette appeared from behind a bank of monitors, his fingers tapping furiously at a keyboard.“Joselyn,” he greeted, his voice low, almost like he was amused that I had made the trek. “I wasn’t expecting someone like you to show up personally.”I raised an eyebrow. “Someone like me? Care to elaborate?”He smirked. “You don’t look like the type to
ALEXANDER'S POVThe moment the footage ended, I was already moving.“Open the basement,” I ordered, my voice cutting through the thick air in the control room.“It’s already open, sir,” one of my men replied quickly.I didn’t wait for another word. I took the stairs two at a time, rage and dread battling inside my chest. The secret passage yawned open behind the wardrobe like a mouth that had swallowed her whole.This time, I didn’t go down blind.“Flashlights,” I snapped.Three beams sliced through the darkness as we descended. The air grew colder with each step, the dampness clinging to my skin. I could still see the faint outline where she had collapsed in the footage. The scrape marks near the metal door. The scuff from Richardson’s shoe.I walked to the exact spot where she had fallen and crouched.“Abigail,” I murmured under my breath, pressing my palm to the cold concrete as if it would still hold the warmth of her body.“She’s not here, sir,” one of the men said unnecessarily.
ALEXANDER'S POVI knew something was wrong the moment I stepped into the house.There was no shattered glass or overturned furniture greeting me at the door.It was the silence.Abigail always came to the door when I returned. Even if she pretended she wasn’t waiting, even if she tried to look annoyed that I’d been gone too long, she came. Sometimes with that stubborn lift of her chin. Sometimes with Tristan in her arms. But she came.That afternoon, the foyer echoed with nothing but the sound of my own footsteps.I handed my jacket to one of my men without looking at him. “Where’s Abigail?”He hesitated a fraction too long. “Inside, sir."I loosened my tie as I walked further in. “Did she go out?”“No, sir. Not that I know of.”Not that he knew of. I didn’t like that answer.Still, I forced myself to stay calm. I had just come from a meeting that had drained every ounce of patience I had. The last thing I needed was to start barking at shadows.“She’s probably upstairs,” I muttered,
ABIGAIL'S POVI should have known peace never lasted in my life.The morning had felt deceptively normal. Pale sunlight slipped through the curtains, warming the hardwood floor in thin golden strips. Tristan was finally asleep after crying half the night, his tiny fingers curled around the edge of his blanket. The house was quiet but I convinced myself it was safety.Alexander had stepped out an hour earlier.“I’ll be back before noon,” he had said, brushing his knuckles against my cheek. “Lock the doors. Don’t open for anyone.”“I’m not helpless,” I had replied, though my voice had been softer than I intended.“I know,” he murmured. “That’s why I’m worried.”Now, standing in the bedroom with my hair tied back and my bag slung over my shoulder, I replayed his words in my head.I needed supplies, medicine for Tristan, groceries, a few things we couldn’t risk ordering online. Alexander had left me one of his cards, pressing it into my palm like a promise.“Use it if you need anything,”
ABIGAIL'S POV The hospital hallway was so quiet or maybe it was all in my head.Minutes here stretched into years, tightening around my ribs until every breath rattled like broken glass. I sat on one of the hard plastic chairs, knees drawn up, my hands clenched together so tightly my nails dug cre
ABIGAIL'S POVI sat across from Georgina in the private lounge of the Rosalind Country Club, legs crossed, fingers curled around the stem of my glass. The soft gold chandelier light made everything seem warmer than it really was. Behind us, laughter floated from the dining hall and glasses chimed
RICHARDSON'S POVThe first thing I became aware of was the smell. Hospitals had a specific scent that always made me want to throw up. When my eyes fluttered open, my head felt heavy, as if thoughts were swimming through mud inside my skull. My throat burned, my body ached, and reality came in frag
RACHAEL'S POVThe first rule of infiltration is simple: smile until your jaw aches.The second rule is harder: don’t let the monster across from you see the hatred burning in your eyes.Tonight, I was breaking both rules at once.I sat inside Georgina Richardson’s living room pretending to be her n







