Was it her?
And Brittany, that brainless girl, had finally been caught by them after all. If only she had not broken the rules.
I walked over to the dresser, pulled out the top drawer, and quickly shoved the tie into my pocket, after which I gathered my small bag, throwing in the phones and all the little things that were lying nearby.
Then I checked the cash. I would still need it.
Agent Ron was watching me carefully, as much as his angle allowed him to. He still did not dare fully look into the bedroom, while I, on the contrary, tried to remain within their sight so as not to arouse unnecessary suspicion.
"I'm ready."
After checking everything one more time, I stepped into the living room, casually shielding the entrance to the bedroom with my body, and headed toward the door, inviting everyone out with a gesture. When the last of them stepped outside, I locked the apartment behind me.
They escorted me to the FBI vehicle and seated me in the back seat. The bodyguards immediately moved out behind us. Most likely, they had already warned Theron, and several seconds later the phone inside my bag vibrated.
I pressed the answer button.
"Is everything alright, sunshine?" Theron's concerned voice calmed me a little.
"Yes. They summoned me for questioning regarding my stepfather's case," I answered calmly and evenly.
"My lawyer is already on his way to you. Just wait for him and stall for time, don't tell them anything substantial."
He fell silent for a moment, as though catching his breath.
"I'll finish up here with this trash and come immediately."
"It's alright," I reassured him quietly. "I won't need a lawyer. Just take care of your business."
I noticed how the agent inside the car shot me a furious look. He looked like he was being eaten alive by anger with anger — whether because of my audacity or my self-confidence, I could not tell for certain.
Though, it no longer mattered.
Things were different now. Which meant I would have to play by different rules as well.
"Be careful," Theron said almost in a whisper.
I knew that tone. Knew that manner. He was afraid for me. Theron never spoke openly about his fears. They always sounded like this: quiet, almost inaudible, like the whisper of the wind.
"Everything's fine. I love you."
The words escaped on their own — sincerely, calmly, without strain. But Theron did not answer.
I ended the call and forced myself to focus on the version for the interrogation and on possible reactions. I needed to leave that place unnoticed and somehow slip away from the guards. And that was no longer the simplest task.
I mentally replayed every step, every word, every possible maneuver all the way down to escaping the bodyguards, barely noticing either the attention of the FBI agents or their questions. Everything around me turned into background noise.
How they brought me there. How they led me inside. How they seated me in the interrogation room.
Only when two men sat across from me and silently stared, waiting for me to finally emerge from my thoughts, did I slowly lift my gaze.
"May I have a cup of good coffee with milk?" I asked politely.
***
Everything with the agents turned out to be easier than I had expected. Though I was not sure that after this they would stop watching me.
One of the agents silently pointed me toward an emergency exit. Without unnecessary words, I stepped outside and, without looking around, quickly headed away, dissolving into the crowd.
In my black clothes, it was not especially difficult. I did not even need any additional tricks.
The moment I was at a sufficiently safe distance from the FBI building and the bodyguards, I immediately dialed Eve's number. Someone answered almost instantly on the other end.
"Hi, Amy. Give me the address," I began without greetings.
Silence hung in the receiver. She was clearly considering whether it was worth revealing herself or not. But I already knew it was Eve.
Several seconds later her calm, bored voice dictated the address of one of the warehouses. I remembered it from the lists I had been studying over the last several weeks.
"I'll come on one condition: my sister goes back to school right now," I cut in coldly.
"You apparently don't understand the situation at all, little idiot. I'm the one making the conditions here," her voice on the other end became noticeably more animated. "If you want your sister to stay alive, just come where I told you to. And bring the tie."
"Listen, I already want to put an end to this circus myself. And to you too. But if you don't return my sister, I won't come. I only have a few minutes left before Theron starts looking for me and tracks the phone. And then I'll simply go back to him, and you'll have to deal with him instead of me," I said coldly and as indifferently as possible.
She fell silent. Apparently considering my words, because she did not answer immediately.
And then the line disconnected.
Damn.
She did not fall for the trick?
I stood in the middle of the street, among the endless flow of people, and waited.
Four minutes later my sister's phone rang.
"Hello?" I froze, waiting for her voice.
"I… I'm leaving the warehouse," Brittany said uncertainly. Her trembling voice sounded broken. "Should I just keep walking forward?"
"Yes. Walk forward and find any diner or store. Ask for help, say you got lost and accidentally ended up in the wrong place. Don't tell anyone anything about what happened. Then go straight back to the dormitory and stay quiet."
"Understood…"
It seemed she wanted to say something else, but someone was clearly nearby.
"Are they still close?" I asked quietly.
"Y-yes… not far. I'm just walking forward…"
She was so frightened that every word came to her with difficulty.
"When you get there, call me."
I ended the call and hailed a taxi. Quickly estimating the possible routes and the distance, I gave the address of a gas station ten minutes away from the warehouse on foot.
She had to come there.
Let her at least not be such an idiot this time.
The phone rang when we were almost at the gas station. But the screen showed not Brittany's name.
Theron.
I had almost no time left.
And almost simultaneously a second incoming call appeared on the screen — Brittany.
"Hello. Did you get to the gas station?" I immediately asked, wasting no time.
"Yes… How did you know?" she nearly shouted.
"Is someone accompanying you?" I asked just as quickly, ignoring her question.
"Yes. How did you—"
"Wait there. I'll be there in seven minutes."
I did not wait for a response and immediately hung up.
Then I sent Theron a short message:
"Trust me."
As soon as the message was delivered, I turned off the phone.
The minutes dragged on agonizingly long, but soon the taxi turned into the correct gas station. Brittany was standing near the store, hugging herself by the shoulders. Only her school uniform. They had not even given her a jacket.
Before getting out, I dictated the school's address to the driver and immediately paid for the ride.
Stepping out of the car, I motioned for Brittany to come closer. At that moment one of the men in black approached me almost closely.
"I'll go with you. But first I'm sending the brat back to school," I said harshly, throwing him a cold look.
Surprisingly, he did not argue. He simply remained standing nearby, carefully watching my every movement.
At any moment he could stop me. Grab me. Yank me back.
But I was not going to run.
I came here to finish everything once and for all. Today.
And the moment the taxi disappeared from my field of vision, I headed toward the building which, apparently, was that very warehouse.
The man in black silently followed behind.
And only now did it finally dawn on me how reckless and stupid I was acting. I was literally walking straight into a place where they could do absolutely anything to me. Including dismemberment.
She most likely was the very person who had ordered all those girls killed.
Wonderful.
"Get those damn thoughts out of your head, Mirey. Since when has death started frightening you at all?"
Ever since Theron appeared. Ever since someone first made me want to stay alive a little longer.
I approached the door. The man kept slightly to the side, watching me, while I still could not bring myself to open it.
Fear?
No. More likely the understanding that the moment this door closed behind my back — nothing could ever be undone again.
Then the man stepped forward himself, opened the door, and silently invited me inside.
I stepped into the poorly lit room.
In the middle of the warehouse stood an ordinary office desk, and right on top of it sat Amy, lazily examining her nails, as though we had met not in an abandoned warehouse but somewhere in a beauty salon.
Around her stood five large men. A type too familiar. The same as Theron's guards: black clothes, calm faces, the heavy gazes of people accustomed to breaking bones without unnecessary emotion.
"Search her," Amy ordered immediately, without even lifting her eyes toward me.
There it was.
At last she had stopped pretending to be a delicate little fool and become what she truly was.
A lying bitch.
The man behind me took my bag and handed it to another, while he carefully but insistently pushed me closer to Amy.
"Search her," Amy ordered again.
Silently, I watched as one of the guards checked my bag while another switched off the second phone.
The man's hands slid over my body — calm, professional, without a hint of embarrassment.
What exactly were they trying to find?
"She's clean," he said shortly. and immediately stepped behind my back.
As though deliberately blocking the only possible route of escape.
"You're not as stupid as you seem at first glance," I said, deciding that it would be more correct to pressure her first. Only that way would I be able to pull more out of her.
"Stupid?" Amy sharply lifted her gaze to me and then suddenly laughed. "You little country rat don't even have the slightest idea what kind of games I'm playing here. Or do you think you're the smartest one in the room?"
She pulled out a pistol and, unhurriedly, aimed it at me, slowly reducing the distance between us.
I merely smirked.
A barrel pointed at my face had long since ceased to be anything new. But predicting what to expect from this psychopath was impossible.
"Let me guess. You started worming your way into the trust of Theron's family, and then quickly understood with whom and about what you could negotiate. Gradually worked your way into the company's surveillance network… Liana was the first one, right?" I continued calmly, not taking my eyes off her.
"These idiots couldn't do anything properly at all. Sometimes I was amazed why Theron kept such talentless fools near him," her smile spread even wider. Almost insane. "But I should give them credit: every one of them ended up playing right into my hands. Although… I don't think they'll get out of this quietly once Theron finds out everything."
"And you think you will?" I smirked in response. "Even if by some miracle you manage to smooth things over with the FBI people, you still made a mistake when you got rid of one of their agents. Or do you really think you'll be able to pin all of this on Theron calmly? You think he'll allow that?"
Amy's face immediately twisted with irritation.
"Theron will be occupied for the near future. I sent him a gift in the form of his secretaries—" she was trying but could not restrain the words.
Any mention of Theron struck a nerve instantly.
Interesting.
"Infiltrate the family. The business. Bribe employees and double agents. Buy up property in order to gradually take over his illegal business… I can understand all of that. Truly. But there's still one thing I don't understand — why?"
It really was true.
I understood the scheme. Understood her actions. I even understood how long she had been building all of this. But her motives — no.
Why did she need any of this at all?
"Why?.." Her eyes twitched, and the fury on her face became almost tangible. "Are you seriously asking me 'why' right now?"
And in that moment it became completely clear to me — she was a psychopath.
Even mafiosi did not behave like this.
"The first time I saw him, I was eighteen," Amy's voice became quieter, but somehow that only made it worse. "My family invited him. And even then… the moment he walked inside, everyone around him practically bowed before him."
Her gaze darted from side to side, as though she were reliving that evening again inside her own head.
"Even my family. The hosts of that evening. They still bowed before him."
Something painful mixed into her voice. Obsession. Almost fanaticism.
"His power. Strength. Respect. The way people fell silent around him… It drove me insane. I was fascinated by him. Obsessed with him to the point of madness."
She laughed nervously, gripping the pistol tighter.
"But that day he didn't even personally wish me a happy birthday. He didn't even look in my direction."
Her gaze suddenly snapped toward me. With contempt. Almost hatred.
"I tried so hard to become worthy of him. To reach his level. I kept waiting that just a little more and he would finally notice me. At least somehow."
She laughed nervously again, but there was nothing normal left in that laughter.
"I wanted to stand beside him. As his woman. As the chosen one."
The pistol in her hand trembled.
"I worked so much for this. And he really did notice me after almost four years. And then what?"
She suddenly broke into a scream.
"He decided to give all of this up and focus only on business. Seriously?!"
On the last words it was as though she had once again been dragged somewhere deep inside her own head. Her gaze became unfocused, insane, completely unpredictable.
"I was striving toward this power. This strength. All of this… And he simply decided to leave. Idiot…"
And then her eyes fixed on me again.
Returned to reality.
She began slowly walking closer, and the pistol in her hand was already moving without any aim at all — chaotic, nervous, dangerous.
"If he doesn't need all of this, then I'll take it all myself. Everything I've been working toward for so long. This entire business. The whole clan. The whole network."
She was already very close.
"But then you appeared. Like a thorn in the eye. You ruined everything."
The barrel swayed toward me.
"You should never have taken his tie in front of everyone that day. That was your biggest mistake."
"You do understand that if you touch me, Theron won't let this go," I stopped her calmly before she completely snapped.
"So what? He'll try to kill me?" Her nervous laughter echoed through the warehouse.
I slowly smirked.
"No. You ruined his life far too much for death."
Her eyes twitched.
Got you.
"Most likely, he'll sell you to some brothel somewhere far from here. To a country where they'll pass you around between ten men a night. Or more. And Theron will personally make sure you don't even have enough time left to breathe properly."
I spoke deliberately calmly.
Without threat.
As though I were simply stating a fact.
"Again and again. Day after day. Until you yourself start begging for death."
I did not have time to finish.
Her arm suddenly flew upward, and in the next second the butt of the pistol slammed hard into my jaw.