All Chapters of In the Wake of Truth: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Julia’s POVThe rain began somewhere over the county line, soft and relentless against the glass, like someone whispering the forbidden. I leaned my forehead against the window, watching the wipers remove the haze, only for it to reappear seconds later."You all right back there, miss?" the driver inquired. Jeff was in his mid-forties, with thinning hair and a subtle fragrance of peppermint and motor grease.I straightened. “Why wouldn’t I be?”He chuckled nervously. “Just making sure. You’ve been quiet for a while… talking to yourself, too.”Had I?I turned my gaze to the window again, tracing the fog my breath had left behind. “Habit.”He didn't press on. Smart man.The road stretched eternally ahead, a bleak ribbon lined by weathered skeleton trees. Outside the fogged-up window, the world was still—quiet, abandoned, nearly forgotten. We were nearly two hours out of Manhattan, meandering through Connecticut's back roads. I'd taken this route before, more times than I could count. Ea

(Nathan Frank's POV)The slam of the front door still echoed in my ears—the night everything shattered. The night Jane caught me cheating, tearing our world apart. I barely had a moment to breathe before my hand was already on my phone. “Michael.” My voice was a low rasp of panic as I stood there, naked in a bed that reeked of betrayal. “I need you now.”There was no hesitation on the other end. Just the soft rustle of motion. He never asked questions. That was one of the reasons I kept him around—discretion was his second nature.“I’m on my way, Mr. Frank.”I grabbed my pants off the floor and yanked them on with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling. Jane’s voice still rang in my ears. That single word—don’t—as raw and broken as everything we used to be. I tried calling her line, but she kept ignoring my calls.Michael arrived in under ten minutes, like a ghost summoned by crisis. He didn’t knock. He didn’t need to. He already knew. The compound wasn’t that large, and with the way I’d

(Jane’s POV)The silence after the gunmen left felt even louder than the gunshots.I was curled up under Andrew’s desk, hands over my ears. My heart was beating so hard, it hurt. I didn’t know how long I’d been hiding—maybe a few minutes, maybe longer. The air smelled like smoke and fear. Every breath I took felt sharp, like it was cutting my throat.A chair near the door was lying on its side. One of its legs still shook like it hadn’t calmed down. Across the room, a phone was buzzing on the floor. There was blood on the screen.Then I heard it.Sirens.At first, they were soft—like they were far away. But they got louder and closer fast. Then came the sound of boots—heavy, quick, stomping up the marble stairs. I heard voices through radios.“Clear the floor! Stay alert! No mistakes!”I held my breath.A second later, officers in gray uniforms rushed into Andrew’s office. Their guns were up. Their eyes were sharp. They moved like they knew exactly what to do.“Clear! One civilian!” o

(Andrew Dole’s POV)The cloth came down hard over my face.Oil. Sweat. Something chemical. The stench hit me first, sharp and acrid, burning my nose. A rough hand gripped the back of my head, forcing it down. Another pair of arms shoved me forward. My feet dragged, soles scraping against tile, then thudded against metal.A van door slammed shut behind us.Mr. Chang’s voice came through the dark: “Where are you taking us?!”A fist silenced him. I heard it land—wet, thick, and final. Then a low whimper. His, maybe. Or mine. Hard to say.The engine rumbled to life.And then the ride began.I tried to map it in my head. Left. Right. Long stretch. A sudden swerve. A bump. Another turn. But my brain was still echoing from the rifle blow, thoughts spinning loose.The van reeked of blood and rust. Some of it was mine.A voice from the front: “Still breathing?”Another replied, lower, colder. “They better be. We can’t lose them… not before we’ve finished the job.”The hood came off. And then a

(Julia’s POV)From the corner of my eye, two shadows moved—fast—Linderman’s bodyguards. The one with the scar stepped in front of me, blocking the narrow alley. The other yanked my handbag from my shoulder and patted me down like luggage.“Let go of me!” I screamed, thrashing. A sharp pain shot up my arm as Luke twisted it behind my back.“Careful,” he hissed. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene.”A black SUV pulled up so smoothly, it was as if it had been idling nearby the whole time, watching.The back door opened.“Get in,” Luke said.“I’m not going anywhere with you.”He leaned in close, his breath warm and sickening against my ear. “You ran once. You won’t get the chance again.”Before I could scream again, Scarface shoved me from behind. I stumbled forward, right into the waiting darkness of the SUV.The door slammed shut with a thud that felt like a hammer against my ribs. My breath caught—tight, shallow, as if the sound sealed me inside a coffin.I sat wedged between the two bod