*****************************POV: Mack************************* --- 2:10 a.m. The numbers blinked on the screen in front of me like a dare. The signal came early. Ten minutes earlier than usual. Ten minutes off a rhythm that Claire had built with surgical precision. Claire didn’t do random. If she changed something, it meant something. And that terrified me more than silence. “Run it again,” I said hoarsely. Reeve didn’t question me—just pulled up the packet and decrypted it one more time. The pulse was unmistakable. Subtle. Disguised in the same way as before. A phantom breath hidden inside white noise, layered through dummy frequencies and masked like static—but there. Loud in the quiet if you knew how to listen. Claire’s voice was in the code. Not literally. But I heard her. I felt her. She was reaching. And this time, she was screaming without a sound. Ten minutes early wasn’t just an accident. It was a signal about the signal. A shift in the pattern that meant one th
******************************POV: Claire************************** --- The house listened. Not with ears, but with the kind of stillness that crept into your bones and made you feel watched. The quiet wasn’t peace—it was a breath held, stretched across hours. A silence so thick, even my heartbeat, felt like an intrusion. Somewhere off the jagged coast of Montenegro, tucked into a cliffside villa carved from wealth and secrets, I existed in a cage made of glass, stone, and lies. Liam called it a sanctuary. I called it a mirage with locks. Everything about this place whispered of curated comfort—the polished floors, the view of the Adriatic that kissed the horizon, the sea breeze that slipped through tall shuttered windows. But no amount of sunlight could disguise the truth. This wasn’t a home. It was a mausoleum dressed like a honeymoon. He said he brought me here to protect me. But from what? The world—or himself? Each morning bled into the next with the same chor
***************************POV: Mack**************************** --- Time didn’t pass anymore—it dragged. Every second without Claire was a hollow ache, I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just worry—it was torment. Claire wasn’t just missing. She was taken. Stolen from my world, pulled out like the breath from my lungs. She wasn’t just some woman i was chasing after. She was the pulse in my goddamn chest. The only person who ever challenged me saw past the armor and into the fractures I never let anyone touch. And now, she was out there—alone. Maybe scared. Maybe hurt. And i couldn’t get to her. Couldn’t protect her. Couldn’t hold her. That reality gutted me more than any threat ever could. The silence she left behind wasn’t just absence—it was unbearable. Hours turned to gravel in my throat. Every breath I took felt like it scraped the inside of my chest. I didn’t sleep. Couldn’t. Sleep belonged to people who weren’t responsible for the woman they loved being dragged into the da
*****************************POV: Liz**************************** --- I didn’t stop walking until I reached the east garden. My boots crushed gravel beneath me, sharp and fast, like maybe if I moved hard enough, I could shake off the sting in my chest. But it followed me—tight and aching. Aliana. Her face was the last thing I expected to see tonight. The moment I saw her standing in the war room, I swear something inside me cracked wide open. I don’t even know if it was rage or disgust or just the kind of betrayal you don’t ever fully recover from. Claire trusted her. I trusted her. And look how that ended. I pressed my fingers to my temples, squeezing hard. I needed space, air—something I couldn’t get with Rowe standing behind me or Mack trying to keep everything together with bloodshot eyes and cracked knuckles. I leaned against the stone wall beneath the ivy-covered trellis, staring out at the horizon as if I could find Claire in the black smear of sea and sky.
--- *****************************POV: Rowe************************* --- Mack didn’t speak after Aliana it. He just stared at her. That kind of stare made men break before the interrogation even started. But Aliana? She didn’t flinch. I didn’t know if that made her brave or just numb from all the damage she’d already done. Either way, I kept watching Mack’s hands—because I’d seen that look in his eyes before. The last time was right before he punched through a wall when Claire was taken. And honestly? He looked even worse now. “She gets one chance,” he said at last. His voice was low, almost too calm. That was what made it dangerous. I gave a slow nod, already shifting my weight closer to her without making it obvious. She might have cracked the case wide open with what she just said—but that didn’t mean she was safe in here. Not from Mack. And maybe not even from herself. Reeve was already at work, his fingers dancing over the keyboard like the keys owed him money. “Sc
*****************************POV:Aliana************************* --- My phone chimed with a text. It was sharp. Too loud in the stillness of my luxurious apartment. I didn’t move right away. I curled myself on my couch, a half-finished bowl of cereal sitting soggy on the coffee table. The TV played reruns on low volume, but i wasn’t really watching. I hadn’t watched anything properly in weeks. Not since the nightmares started up again. Not since Claire and Mack had pulsed me from Agyis Dynamics basement like i was a forgotten relic. That rescue was supposed to be the end. I thought I'd finally started healing. Or at least pretending i could. It's not as easy as it seems, I tried, and I'm still trying. I need to get shit together to win over Liam-he needs to be taken down. He's a psychopath. But when my phone buzzed again, my body knew before my mind did. A tightness locked around my lungs. My stomach twisted in tivht knots. My breath dropped. Something was wrong.