Ava's POV
The whisper hung in the air like smoke. He's hiring a private investigator.
Ava lay frozen in the strange bed, the first gray light of morning painting the bare walls. Every nerve in her body was awake and screaming. Sleep was impossible now. The medicine had worn off, leaving a dull, throbbing ache in her side and a sharp, clear fear in her mind.
Mark wasn't just angry. He was spending money. He was bringing in a professional. The thought of a stranger digging through her life, following her digital footprints, talking to her neighbors, was a new kind of violation. It made her feel exposed, even here in this hidden room.
She had to move. She pushed back the covers and sat up slowly, biting her lip against the pain. She needed to see Leo. She needed to know what that phone call really meant.
She found him in the main room, but he wasn't on the phone. He was at the small kitchen counter, pouring coffee from a sleek machine she hadn't noticed last night. He was dressed in different clothes, dark jeans, and a gray sweater. He looked like he'd been awake for hours.
"You should be resting," he said without turning around. He had ears like a cat.
"I heard you," she said, her voice raspy from sleep and fear. "Last night. You said he's hiring a P.I."
Leo finished pouring a second mug of coffee. He turned, holding both mugs. He walked over and set one on the coffee table in front of the sofa. "Sit. Drink this. You need the caffeine."
She obeyed, lowering herself carefully onto the sofa. The coffee was black and strong. She took a sip, the heat spreading through her chest. "What does it mean? A private investigator."
"It means he's serious about finding you," Leo said, sitting in the chair opposite her. He studied her face. "It also means he's not going to the police, which is what we expected. A P.I. works in the shadows. It's a quieter, more personal kind of hunt."
"Can he find me? Here?"
"This location is clean. The car is untraceable to this place. But P.I.s are good at connecting dots. They'll look at your sister, your friends, and your bank activity. They'll look for patterns." He took a sip of his own coffee. "Have you contacted anyone since last night?"
"No. My phone is… I don't even know where it is."
"It's in a Faraday bag in the study. It can't receive a signal or be tracked. You can't use it, and neither can he."
Ava wrapped her hands around the warm mug. "So what do we do?"
"We wait. And we learn." Leo reached for a tablet that was sitting on the side table. He tapped the screen and slid it across the coffee table to her.
On the screen was a black-and-white photo, taken from a distance. It showed Mark, in his team jacket, talking to a man in a worn leather coat outside a diner. The other man had a sharp, fox-like face. He was handing Mark a business card.
"That's the investigator," Leo said. "His name is Silas Briggs. He's expensive, and he's good. He finds people for a living. Mostly runaway teens and cheating spouses, but he has a high success rate."
Ava stared at the photo. It felt like watching a horror movie about her own life. "You're having him followed?"
"I'm having Mark followed. Briggs is a new variable in the equation." Leo's voice was analytical. "Briggs will start with traffic cameras. He'll find the footage of my car leaving your street last night."
Her heart sank. "Then he'll find the license plate!"
"He'll find the shell company. That will take him a day, maybe two, to hit a dead end. Then he'll switch tactics. He'll come looking for you. Your habits. Your fears." Leo leaned forward slightly. "What would you do, Ava? If you were scared and hurt and had just run away, where would you go?"
The question startled her. She thought about it. "I'd… I'd go to my sister's. Sophie's."
Leo nodded. "That's what Briggs will think. He'll be watching her house within the next few hours."
A cold dread washed over her. "Oh, no. Sophie… I can't let him bother her. I need to call her, to warn her!"
"You can't." Leo's voice was firm. "If you call her, you give Briggs exactly what he wants: a connection. He'll trace the call, or he'll pressure her harder, knowing you're in contact. The best thing you can do for your sister right now is to stay silent."
It felt so wrong. So cruel. Sophie would be sick with worry. "But she'll be so scared. Mark might go there himself!"
"He might," Leo acknowledged. "Which is why I have a man parked down her street. If Mark or Briggs approaches her, my man will intervene. He'll pose as a concerned neighbor or a security guard. Your sister will be safe."
Ava stared at him. He had thought of everything. He had moved pieces on a chessboard she didn't even know she was playing on. The relief was so profound that it made her dizzy. "You're protecting her?"
"I'm containing the problem," he corrected, but his tone wasn't harsh. "Your sister is a key vector. Securing her secures you."
He picked up the tablet and swiped to a new image. This one was a map of the city with several blinking red dots. "These are my assets. People watching key places, your old apartment, your sister's home, Mark's practice facility. They report to me. Nothing happens without me knowing."
He was showing her his operation. Letting her see the machine that was now working to protect her. It was meant to be reassuring, but all she could think was, Who needs this much protection? Who has "assets"?
As if reading her mind again, his phone, which was on the counter, buzzed. Not the long vibration of a call, but a rapid series of short bursts. A code.
Leo stood up and retrieved it. His eyes scanned the screen. The calm, analytical mask slipped for just a second. A muscle in his jaw tightened. He typed a quick reply: Acknowledged. Maintain position.
He looked at her, and his gray eyes were different. Sharper. Colder. "We have another problem."
"What is it?"
"The P.I., Briggs, is good. Faster than I expected." Leo put the phone down. "He didn't just pull traffic cam footage. He accessed the city's real-time traffic system. He's not just looking for where my car went last night. He's looking for it right now. He's running a pattern recognition search on all black SUVs in the city."
Ava's breath caught. "Can he find this one?"
"This garage is shielded. The car hasn't moved. But he's creating a digital net. It's only a matter of time before he finds a camera that caught us turning into this neighborhood last night." Leo walked to the window, peering through the blinds. "We can't stay here long."
The safe house didn't feel safe anymore. It felt like a box that was slowly shrinking.
"What about the other thing?" Ava asked quietly. "Last night, on your call… You said to let 'them' have the warehouse. Who are 'they'?"
Leo was silent for a long moment. He turned from the window. "That is a different kind of problem. A business rival. They've been… ambitious lately. The call was about them making a move on one of my properties." He said it casually, but his shoulders were tense.
"Are they dangerous?" The question felt stupid as soon as she asked it. Of course, they were dangerous.
"To me, yes. To you, no. You're not part of that world." He walked back toward her, stopping in front of the sofa. "But their activity creates noise. It draws attention. And right now, the last thing we need is more attention. We need to be ghosts."
He was including her in the "we." We need to be ghosts.
"So what's the plan?" she asked, her voice small.
"First, we wait for Dr. Evans to return to check your ribs. After that, we move. I have another place, outside the city. Sooner than I'd like, but necessary." He picked up his coffee mug. "Until then, you stay inside. You don't go near the windows. You don't make a sound if you hear someone in the hall. Understood?"
She nodded. The weight of it all was crushing. She was a prisoner, but her jailer was the only thing standing between her and the hunters outside.
Just then, a different sound echoed through the apartment. A low, metallic thunk from somewhere near the front door. Then a soft, scraping noise.
It wasn't the doorbell. It wasn't a knock.
It was the sound of someone trying to quietly test the lock.
Leo's hand went to the small of his back out of pure instinct, finding nothing there. His gun was still on the shelf by the door. His eyes locked with Ava's, wide with a silent command: Don't move. Don't breathe.
The scraping came again, more deliberate this time. Someone was on the other side of the door with a lockpick.
They were supposed to have time. Briggs was supposed to be looking at traffic cameras. But the subtle, professional sounds at the door meant the hunt had already found their hiding place. Leo was five steps from his weapon. Ava was frozen on the couch. And the locks were being picked, one by one.