STACY'S POVThe door to the cheap motel room clicked shut behind me, a hollow, final sound. I stood there for a second, just breathing. The air was stale, smelled like old cigarettes and bleach, but it was safe. My own place. Finally.Relief washed over me, a cold, clean wave. I let out a breath I’d been holding for days. I’m out. I’m free.Michael’s house, his office, those watchful eyes… it was like living inside a cage. Every move I made, I felt him watching. Not directly, but through the systems, through the people. He trusted me, but he verified everything. A paranoid bastard. And if I’d stayed any longer, he’d have seen the cracks. He’d have seen the money shifting, the messages, the little lies. He’d have seen me.I couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not when I was just back on top.I walked to the small desk, the wood laminate sticky under my fingers. My laptop was already there, open. The screen glowed with numbers, plans, messages. My plans.I sat down, the chair creaking. My
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