CHAPTER 11 — BETWEEN TRUST AND DECEPTION
The key felt heavier than metal should.
Evelyn held it in her hand long after Rowan disappeared into the fog, her fingers trembling around its cold surface. The engraved symbols looked ancient, the type of markings that didn't belong in the modern world—sharp lines, curved arcs, intersecting points that seemed almost alive in the morning light. Every time she blinked, she felt as if the symbols shifted subtly, like they were adjusting themselves to her gaze.
She tucked the key into her pocket and stepped outside the abandoned café. The world felt colder, as if her breath alone could frost the air. Her boots clicked against the pavement as she walked, her thoughts spiraling.
Why Liam? Why would Rowan warn me about him? What exactly is he hiding?
The idea that Liam could be involved in something so dark made her stomach twist. He had always been protective of her—too protective, sometimes. And there were moments when his gaze held secrets he never dared voice. Perhaps she had ignored the signs because she wanted to trust him. Because in a world filled with shadows and whispers, he was the only one who made her feel grounded.
But now… she wasn't sure of anything.
The streets were slowly filling with people heading to work. Cars hummed past, horns echoed, vendors setting up their morning stalls called out in familiar voices. It should have felt normal. Safe. But the world around her no longer felt like home. Every passerby felt like a threat. Every glance lingered too long. Every shadow seemed to move on its own.
Evelyn walked faster.
---
At the Office
She arrived earlier than usual, hoping the silence of the building would calm her. But the moment she stepped inside, something felt different. The lights flickered overhead. The security guards glanced at her longer than usual. A faint humming noise rippled through the walls, almost like a pulse.
She rubbed her temples. "Not today… please…"
Her desk was untouched, but a folded piece of paper sat right in the center—something she had not left there.
Her breath hitched.
She opened it carefully.
"You were followed again. Don't turn around."
Her heart slammed in her chest. She froze. Her neck felt stiff, like turning it would snap something inside her.
Slowly, she placed the paper into her drawer and exhaled shakily.
Then footsteps echoed behind her.
Calm. Heavy. Confident.
She knew that sound.
"Evelyn?"
Liam's voice.
She turned. His dark eyes held concern, caution, and something unreadable lurking underneath.
"You're early," he said. "Did something happen? You look pale."
She swallowed. "Just a rough night."
He stepped closer, stopping right outside her personal space. "You can talk to me, you know."
A part of her wanted to—desperately. Another part screamed that Rowan's warning might not be a lie.
"Where were you last night?" she asked suddenly.
Liam blinked. "Last night? Why?"
"You didn't answer your phone."
For a brief second, something flickered in his expression—too quick to catch but too real to ignore.
"I was… handling something urgent," he said carefully.
"That's vague."
He sighed. "Evelyn, what's going on? You're acting like someone's chasing you."
Because someone is.
She crossed her arms. "Can you answer me honestly? No secrets?"
He hesitated.
And that slight pause—just a heartbeat of silence—felt like confirmation of Rowan's warning.
Before she could say anything else, their manager called for Liam. He left reluctantly, but not before giving her one last lingering look.
She sat down, legs weak.
Trust was becoming a luxury she couldn't afford.
---
Later That Afternoon
Throughout the day, Evelyn's mind raced. Every time she looked up, someone seemed to be watching her. She saw a man in a dark coat outside the building around noon—and then the same man at a café across the street two hours later. His face was obscured by a cap, but his posture… his presence… it made her skin crawl.
She sent Rowan a message, though she wasn't sure he would reply.
"I think they're following me again. What do I do?"
No response.
She typed again.
"Where should I go? Should I hide? Should I call the police?"
Still nothing.
The sun was beginning to set when she decided to leave early. The office felt suffocating, and the strange humming in the walls only grew louder, vibrating softly beneath her skin. She felt dizzy every time she touched her computer.
It was safer to leave.
Or so she thought.
---
On Her Way Home
Evelyn walked briskly, clutching her bag. The city lights blinked awake one by one as the sky turned orange and purple. Cars rushed by, horns blaring, laughter echoing from bars. Life continued as usual around her… but she felt like she was walking toward something inevitable.
Near her apartment, she noticed the same man in the dark coat leaning against a wall.
Her heartbeat skyrocketed.
He pushed off the wall slowly when he saw her.
Her feet moved faster.
The man stepped forward.
Evelyn broke into a run.
Her breath tore through her throat as she raced down the street, her footsteps slapping against the pavement. She could hear him behind her—steady, unhurried, chasing without fear of being seen.
She turned into an alley, hoping to cut through toward a busier road.
But standing at the other end of the alley was another man.
Tall. Silent. Waiting.
Her blood iced.
She spun to run back the way she came, but the first man was already there, blocking her escape. Their shadows stretched across the walls like claws reaching toward her.
"Evelyn Hart."
The second man spoke calmly, as if greeting an old friend.
"Stay away from me!" she shouted.
"You have something that does not belong to you," he replied.
Her breath tightened. The key.
"You're mistaken," she said, backing away.
"No," he said. "You're exactly who we've been searching for."
He took a step forward.
And then—
A hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her sideways.
Liam.
He pulled her behind him, body rigid, eyes blazing with a darkness she had never seen.
"Touch her," Liam growled, "and I'll end you."
The two men exchanged a look.
"You again," one muttered. "You shouldn't interfere. Not this time."
Liam smirked coldly. "Try me."
What happened next was a blur. The men lunged. Liam moved faster—too fast for a normal person. His fist collided with a jaw, his elbow with a rib, his movements sharp and trained. The men countered, swift and ruthless, but Liam held them back with skill that made Evelyn's breath catch.
He wasn't just strong.
He was trained.
The kind of training that didn't come from gyms or street fights.
The kind Rowan warned her about.
When the attackers retreated, Liam grabbed her hand.
"Come with me. Now."
She followed, shaken, breathless, terrified.
But one question echoed louder than all the fear in her chest.
Who exactly was Liam?
---
END OF CHAPTER 11