Nadia's POV
We're not going after Sarah.
I stared at Dominic like he'd lost his mind. You just said
I said we'd find her. I didn't say we'd walk into an obvious trap unarmed and unprepared. He was already pulling up maps on his computer. If we're doing this and apparently we are, because your conscience won't let you sleep otherwise, we do it smart.
Sarah might not have time for smart! They said twenty-four hours!
Which means we have twenty-four hours to plan. Rushing in gets us all killed. He gestured to the chair beside him. Sit. If you want to save your traitorous best friend, you need to learn how to think like a criminal.
I'm a lawyer. I think in terms of law and evidence.
And that's why you'd die within five minutes of entering that warehouse. His voice was sharp. The law failed us, Nadia. Your precious legal system is corrupt from top to bottom. So if you want to survive if you want to save Sarah you need to expand your tools.
I wanted to argue. Wanted to say I wouldn't compromise my principles.
But Sarah's terrified face haunted me.
I sat down.
Good. First lesson: money trails. He pulled up financial documents. Victor's empire isn't just about violence. It's about money. Follow the money, you find the real power structure.
For the next six hours, Dominic taught me things they'd never covered in law school.
How to trace money through shell corporations. How offshore accounts work. How to identify patterns in financial records that indicate money laundering.
See this? He pointed to a series of transactions. Money moves from Victor's legitimate businesses into shell companies. Then it bounces through three more companies before landing in Marcus's offshore account. Looks clean on paper. But follow the pattern
It's the same amount each time, I said, seeing it. Just split up and routed differently.
Exactly. They're not even trying that hard to hide it because they think no one's looking.
He was brilliant. I hated admitting it, but watching him work was like watching an artist. He saw connections I would have missed. Understood systems I'd never considered.
How did you learn all this? I asked.
Eight years running a criminal empire. You pick things up. He pulled up more files. Second lesson: reading people. You're good at reading witnesses in court. But court is theater. Everyone's performing. Real life is different.
How?
People reveal themselves in patterns. Not just what they say, but when they say it. How they move money. Who they trust. What they're willing to risk. He showed me surveillance footage of Marcus meeting with various people over months. Watch how he acts differently with each person. Confident with some. Nervous with others. That tells you the real power structure.
I watched Marcus interact with a judge confident, controlling. Then with Victor Ashford nervous, submissive.
Marcus thinks he's in charge, I said. But he's terrified of your father.
Now you're learning. Dominic almost smiled. Third lesson: survival. In my world, trust gets you killed. But so does trusting no one. You need to know who's useful, who's dangerous, and who's both.
Which category am I in?
Both. Definitely both. He closed the files. You're useful because you understand the legal system. Dangerous because your conscience might get us killed.
Is that supposed to be a compliment?
It's a fact. And in my world, facts keep you alive.
By lunch, my head hurt from information overload. Dominic made pasta perfectly seasoned, al dente. I was starting to hate how good his cooking was.
Can I ask you something? I said as we ate.
Probably won't stop you if I say no.
Your wife and daughter. Elena and Lily. What were they like?
His fork stopped halfway to his mouth. That's off-limits.
You know everything about me. My foster care history. My failed relationships. My fears. It's not fair.
Life isn't fair, Counselor. You should know that by now.
I do know. But partnership is. And if we're partners
We're not partners. You're my captive who happens to be useful. His voice went cold. Drop it.
I dropped it. But I couldn't stop thinking about the photo I'd seen on the shelf Dominic with a woman and child, all three laughing. Happy. Before everything went wrong.
We spent the afternoon planning Sarah's rescue. Dominic mapped out the warehouse, identified entry points, calculated risks.
We need weapons, he said.
I've never fired a gun.
Then you're learning tonight. Can't save anyone if you're dead.
I'm a public defender, not a vigilante!
You stopped being a public defender the moment Marcus branded you a fugitive. He looked at me hard. You're something else now. Question is, what? Someone who survives, or someone who dies with principles intact?
I didn't have an answer.
That evening, while Dominic made dinner, I wandered the loft. Restless. Scared. Trying not to think about walking into a trap tomorrow.
I found myself at the shelf where I'd seen the photo before. It was still there, facing forward now.
Dominic with Elena and Lily. So much happiness in one image.
Her name was Elena.
I jumped. Hadn't heard Dominic approach.
He stood in the doorway, and for the first time, his mask slipped. Pure anguish crossed his face.
Her name was Elena, he repeated quietly. Lily was five. They were killed in our home while I was at a business meeting.
I'm sorry
Don't. He moved closer, staring at the photo. The police ruled it a random robbery. Said it was bad luck. Wrong place, wrong time. His laugh was bitter. It wasn't random. It was my father's way of punishing me for trying to leave his empire.
I couldn't breathe. Your own father
I was going to testify against him. Go legitimate. Build a life away from all of this. He touched the photo frame with shaking fingers. He found out. And he eliminated what I loved most. Made sure I understood the cost of betrayal.
That's why you rejoined the family business.
I became exactly what killed them. A criminal. A monster. Because it was the only way to survive losing them. His voice broke. Every day I wake up wondering if I'm still the man Elena loved, or if I've become my father.
I saw him then truly saw him for the first time.
Not the cold criminal who'd kidnapped me. Not the calculating strategist teaching me to think like a lawbreaker.
A man destroyed by grief. Trying to survive. Trying to find redemption in a world that offered none.
You're not your father, I said quietly.
How would you know?
Because your father would have killed me by now. But you're teaching me to fight. To survive. To save someone who betrayed me. I paused. That's not a monster. That's someone who still has hope.
He looked at me for a long moment. Something shifted in his expression.
You're dangerous, Nadia Cross. Your optimism is going to get us both killed.
Maybe. But it's better than dying without hope.
Before he could respond, his phone buzzed.
He checked it and his face went white.
What? I demanded. What now?
He turned the phone toward me.
A video file. From an unknown sender.
I pressed play.
Sarah appeared on screen. Still bound to the chair. But now someone stood behind her. A figure in a mask.
Hello, Ms. Cross. The voice was distorted. Electronic. I see you haven't surrendered yet. That's disappointing.
The masked figure placed a gun against Sarah's head.
Sarah was crying, shaking, trying to speak through the tape over her mouth.
You have twelve hours now. Not twenty-four. I'm impatient. The figure cocked the gun. Surrender, or watch your friend die. Your choice.
The video ended.
My hands were shaking so hard I almost dropped the phone.
Twelve hours, I whispered. They cut the timeline in half.
Because they know we're planning something. They're forcing us to act before we're ready. Dominic's jaw clenched. It's what I would do.
So what do we do?
He was quiet for a long moment, calculations running behind his eyes.
Then he made a decision.
We move tonight. Before they expect us. Hit them while they think they have time.
We're not ready!
We'll never be ready. But we have surprise on our side if we go now. He started gathering equipment. Get some rest. We leave at midnight.
I can't rest! Sarah's going to die!
Then she dies. Or we save her. But either way, you need to be sharp, not exhausted. He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to meet his eyes. Trust me on this. I've done this before. Rushing in emotional gets you killed. Cold and calculated gives you a chance.
I wanted to argue. But he was right.
I went to my room. Lay on the bed. Tried to quiet my racing thoughts.
Failed completely.
At 11:45 PM, I heard movement in the loft. Dominic preparing weapons. Equipment. Whatever we'd need.
I got up and found him loading a gun with practiced efficiency.
Ready? he asked.
No. But let's go anyway.
He handed me a bulletproof vest. Put this on. And when we get there, you do exactly what I say. No arguments. No heroics. Understood?
Understood.
We were walking toward the door when his phone buzzed again.
Another video.
I didn't want to look. Forced myself to anyway.
Sarah on screen. But this time, the masked figure wasn't alone.
There were three of them now. All armed. All surrounding her.
And in the background, barely visible, more people. At least a dozen.
It's not just a trap, I breathed. It's an army.
The masked figure spoke: Change of plans, Ms. Cross. Mr. Ashford. We know you're coming tonight. We've known since you started planning this afternoon. Did you really think we weren't watching? Listening?
My blood ran cold.
We've been monitoring the loft for weeks. Every conversation. Every plan. Every moment you thought you were safe. The figure laughed. So please, come try to rescue Detective Chen. We're ready for you. And when you arrive, you'll finally meet the person who's been orchestrating all of this. The person who really killed Linda Morrison. The person who's going to kill all three of you.
The video ended.
Dominic and I stared at each other in horror.
They've been listening, I whispered. The whole time. Every plan we made
Is compromised. He moved fast, checking walls, ceiling, searching for bugs. They know we're coming. They know our strategy. They know everything.
So what do we do?
He found ita tiny camera hidden in the ceiling vent. He crushed it under his boot.
We change everything. Go completely off-script. He grabbed his phone and started making calls. And we figure out who the hell has been watching us this whole time.
But even as he talked, I couldn't stop thinking about the masked figure's words:
You'll finally meet the person who really killed Linda Morrison.
Not Victor. Not Marcus.
Someone else.
Someone we hadn't even considered yet.
And they'd been watching us the entire time.