Katy P.O.V
For three days straight, Acadia vanished like smoke.
I went to her office so often that the security guards no longer asked for my ID. The marble floors, the cold glass walls, the hum of power, everything smelled like authority and lies.
Each time I was told the same thing: She's unavailable. Each time, I smiled politely and left, my nails biting into my palms.
On the third visit, I stood by the door longer than I should have, my instincts screaming. That was when a man stepped out from one of the inner offices, his expression tightening the moment he saw me.
"Miss Katy?" He asked quietly.
"You were here two days ago"
"Yes" I replied, my voice was calm and measured. Too calm.
He hesitated, then moved closer, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves were listening.
"I shouldn't be saying this" He whispered, "but you're a good person. And I think you deserve the truth"
I studied his face. Fear lived there.
"Thank you" I said simply.
He swallowed. "Director Acadia travelled to Poland. She's handling the James Bron case personally. She won't return until she solves it" He paused. "You should rest assured, she believes in fair justice"
Fair justice.
I thanked him again. He opened his mouth to say his name, but someone called out sharply from behind him. The moment shattered. I turned and walked away before he could change his mind.
The moment i got back to my penthouse, silence wrapped around me like a threat.
I stepped into my room just as my phone rang.
The caller was Donald.
I answered immediately.
"The voice pitch is gone" He said without preamble.
"Clean removal. No distortion anymore"
My heart slowed. "And?"
"It's a woman's voice"
I closed my eyes.
"Prepare the earliest flight to Poland" I told him.
There was a pause. "Poland? That's sudden"
"Acadia is hiding something" I said, my voice turning cold. "Something the world must never see. An evidence"
"I'll handle it" Donald replied. "First flight"
When the call ended, I pulled my laptop from the bedside table with shaking hands. The file waited for me like a loaded gun. I pressed play.
The voice filled the room.
Calm. Controlled. Familiar.
Too familiar.
My breath caught.
It sounded so much like Acadia's.
No doubt. No question. The same tone she used during press briefings. The same authority. The same confidence. Speaking in coded language. Making promises. Giving reassurances.
And a background voice popped up like a silent discussion behind the call.
My chest burned as the truth settled in. The FBI's golden woman. The face of justice. Working for the very man she was meant to destroy.
James Bron didn't just buy silence.
He owned systems. He owned people.
And now he had stolen my case.
I slammed the laptop shut, anger and frustration colliding inside me. I had spent years building my name, chasing justice, stepping carefully through fire,only to watch it handed to someone dirtier, louder, more celebrated.
There was nothing I could do.
Not yet.
But Poland wasn't just a destination anymore.
It was a battlefield.
And Acadia had made one mistake she would regret, she had underestimated how far I was willing to go once I knew the truth.
Laurel P.O.V
It was strange.
For the first time since my life shattered, three whole days passed without Richardo finding me.
No black cars outside the hotel.
No men watching from corners.
No voice in the dark reminding me I was never free.
I stayed hidden in a small hotel tucked inside a narrow street that even taxis struggled to find. The walls were thin, the sheets smelled like detergent and old rain and the silence was loud enough to make my thoughts scream. I slept with my clothes on, my shoes by the bed, my breath was shallow,waiting for him.
Every knock on the hallway made my heart jump. Every sound felt like a warning. And yet…he never came.
And that scared me more than if he had.
By the third day, I realized something terrifying:
If Richardo wanted me dead, I would already be gone.
I bought a new phone under a fake name. No contacts. No history. No past. Then I booked a flight back to Canada. If I was going to be hunted, I would at least see the people who mattered to me one last time.
I didn't sleep that night. I just sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall, wondering if this would be the last choice I ever made on my own.
The flight felt endless.
When I stepped out of the airport in Canada, the cold air hit my lungs hard—sharp, grounding and real. I didn't hesitate. I got into a taxi and told the driver the address of the jail where Scarlett and Sally were being held.
The closer we got, the heavier my chest became.
This was where everything broke.
Inside the jail, a police officer led me into a vacant room and told me to wait.
The door closed behind me with a hollow sound that echoed in my bones.
Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then another.
My leg bounced uncontrollably as my thoughts spiraled.
What if they hate me?
What if they blame me? What if I'm too late?
Three hours later, the door finally opened.
Scarlett ran toward me the moment she saw me.
I barely had time to stand before she threw her arms around me, holding on like I might disappear if she let go. Her body shook with sobs that tore straight through my chest.Her hair was messy, her eyes red and hollow, her hands trembled as she clutched my jacket.
"I missed you" She sobbed. "I thought you were dead"
That was when I saw Sally.
She stood by the door, handcuffed, her expression looked hard with anger and guilt. Her hair was unkept. Her eyes seemed exhausted, haunted. She didn't move toward me. She didn't smile.
She just stared.
"Sally" I called softly.
Scarlett cried into my shoulder, telling me how much she missed me, how long the nights were, how scared she was. I held her until my arms ached, until her sobs softened into broken breaths.
"Sally!" I called again.
Scarlett slowly released me, still crying. I walked toward Sally, but she turned away like she was going to leave. Panic surged through me. I reached her and hugged her from behind.
"I'm sorry" I whispered. "I'm sorry I left"
She froze.
"I'm not angry at you" She said suddenly. Her voice cracked. "I'm angry at myself"
She turned to face me, her eyes burning with guilt.
"If I hadn't dragged you guys into that bar…Sophie wouldn't be dead.If I hadn't pushed us to rob Richardo, Scarlett and I wouldn't be here. I did this. I ruined everything"
Scarlett cried harder.
"It wasn't your fault" I said, my voice shaking. "We were all stupid. We didn't understand what kind of man he was"
Sally shoved me away.
She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She just walked out.
"Sally!" I called,but she was already gone.
Something inside me shattered quietly.
I stood there feeling like everything we ever dreamed of had collapsed because of one name.
Richardo.
When I turned back to Scarlett, she wiped her tears and looked at me carefully.
"How did you escape him?" She asked.
"It's a long story"
She nodded slowly. "Being in jail is the safest place right now. At least here, he won't touch us"
I swallowed. "I'm on the run. He's everywhere. There's nowhere safe"
Scarlett talked about home. About before everything went wrong. About laughter, stupid dreams and plans that never stood a chance against a man like Richardo.
"I'll get you both out" I promised.
She held my hands. "I hope he doesn't hurt you"
The officer returned too soon.
I hugged Scarlett tightly one last time, holding onto her warmth like a lifeline, then watched as she was led away. I didn't cry until I was outside.
I booked a hotel on my phone without thinking.
Pris Hotel.
Miss Katy Perezato's hotel.
The thought of the place tasted bitter.
The same place where everything had once felt perfect.
I booked under a different name.
Room 177.
Forty-ninth floor.
I went into the hotel and was led to the reception office.
A golden card slid across the counter into my hand.
When I entered the room, luxury greeted me like a ghost—soft couches, polished floors, city lights bleeding through glass walls. I locked the door and leaned against it, my heart pounding.
Memories rushed in—our laughter, our excitement, how alive we'd been.
This was where our dreams had begun.
And where they died.
Standing there alone, surrounded by wealth that meant nothing now, I whispered a quiet prayer that Richardo shouldn't find me.Even though deep down, I knew—
Nowhere was safe anymore.
No matter where I ran…
Richardo was never far behind.