Leo moved fast. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small metal pipe—one of the makeshift weapons he always carried. He didn't hesitate. As Jillian ran past him, he stepped in front of her pursuer.
The man skidded to a stop, his eyes narrowing.
Leo smirked. "You lost, buddy?"
For a moment, no one moved. The tension in the air was thick, electric.
Jillian, catching her breath, turned just in time to see the man take a step back. He was calculating his odds, realizing he had lost his chance.
Without a word, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Jillian exhaled sharply, her legs trembling.
Leo turned to her. "What the hell was that about?"
She swallowed hard, her mind racing.
"It's started," she whispered.
And deep down, she knew—this was only the beginning.
Jillian's hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the wooden stall beside her, still catching her breath. The chilling encounter had left her shaken, but she knew she couldn't afford to show weakness. Not now. Not when someone had just tried to take her.
Leo eyed her warily, his grip still tight around the metal pipe. "You want to tell me what the hell just happened? Who was that guy?"
Jillian's eyes darted around the market square. The vendors were still packing up, unaware of the danger that had lurked just moments ago. The man had disappeared into the night, but she knew he wasn't gone for good.
She turned to Leo, her voice steady despite the lingering fear. "I think Camilla sent him."
Leo's jaw tightened. "That woman just won't quit, huh?"
Jillian shook her head, her mind racing. "She wants me gone, Leo. She wants me erased."
Before Leo could respond, footsteps approached from behind them. Jillian whipped around, still on edge, but relaxed slightly when she saw Clara running toward them.
"I saw you two running from across the square. What happened?" Clara asked, her face filled with concern.
Leo exhaled heavily. "Some creep tried to grab Jillian. She barely got away."
Clara's eyes widened. "What? Here? In public?"
Jillian nodded. "That means they're getting bold."
Clara bit her lip. "What do we do?"
Jillian straightened her posture, pushing away the fear gnawing at her chest. "We need to find out who he is. If he's working for Camilla, there has to be a trail. We can't just sit and wait for them to try again."
Leo crossed his arms. "That's risky."
Jillian met his gaze, determination flickering in her eyes. "So is waiting around to be kidnapped."
For a moment, none of them spoke. Then Leo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But we do this smart. No reckless moves."
Clara nodded in agreement. "Maybe Dante can help?"
Jillian's thoughts immediately went to the ex-gang leader. He had connections, resources. If anyone could dig up information, it was him.
"Yeah," she agreed. "Let's go find him."
Without wasting another second, the three of them moved through the dimly lit streets, their footsteps quick, their minds focused. The attack had changed everything. This was no longer just a game of survival.
It was war.
******
On the other side Victor Holloway sat in his dimly lit office, the weight of the silence pressing down on him. The only sound was the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional shuffle of papers as he sifted through reports, notes, and recordings. His jaw was clenched, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, but he refused to stop.
A USB Jillian had sent had been his only lead, a whispered confession of Camilla Robbinson's supposed plan to betray him. At first, he had dismissed it as a desperate attempt to manipulate him, but the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he became. Camilla had always been ambitious, but was she really bold enough to turn against him? And if so, who was she working with?
Victor had spent the last three days pulling every possible thread. He met with informants, bribed low-level thugs for information, and even sent his most trusted men to shadow Camilla's movements. Every time he thought he was onto something, the trail would go cold. No suspicious meetings. No sudden changes in routine. No hidden transactions. Nothing. It was as if she was a ghost, untouchable, always one step ahead of him.
Frustrated, he played the voice note again, listening carefully to the words. The recording was clear—Camilla discussing plans, speaking in hushed tones about taking over. But something felt off. He rewound it, listening again and again, searching for an inconsistency, a flaw in the dialogue that could prove or disprove its authenticity.
He slammed his fist onto the desk. "Damn it!"
His right-hand man, Lucas, glanced up from his spot across the room. "Still no luck?"
Victor exhaled sharply. "I don't get it, Lucas. If Camilla really is planning something, why the hell can't I find anything on her? No whispers, no documents, not even a suspicious phone call."
Lucas crossed his arms, thinking. "Maybe she's being extra careful. Or maybe…" He hesitated.
Victor narrowed his eyes. "Maybe what?"
"Maybe the lead is fake."
Victor tensed. He hated the idea of being played. Could Jillian have tricked him? And if so, why? Was she trying to make him paranoid, or was she truly warning him?
He pushed his chair back, standing abruptly. "I need to confront her."
Lucas sighed. "And if she denies it?"
"Then I'll make her talk," Victor growled.
But deep down, doubt gnawed at him. Was he chasing a ghost? Or was Camilla simply that good at covering her tracks? Either way, he wasn't going to stop. One way or another, he would get to the truth.
Meanwhile Jillian sat between Dante and Leo in the dimly lit warehouse, going over their next move when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She glanced at the screen—Victor Holloway. A tense silence settled as she answered.
"We need to talk," Victor's deep voice came through, laced with urgency. "I'll send the location."
Jillian's heartbeat quickened. For weeks, she had been feeding Victor misinformation, making him chase shadows while keeping him unaware of her true plans. But for him to reach out directly meant something had shifted.
Dante and Leo leaned in as she put the call on speaker. "What's this about?" she asked, keeping her tone steady.
"Just show up. Come alone." The line went dead.
Leo scoffed. "You're not going alone."
"Obviously," Jillian muttered, staring at the location pin that popped up on her screen. It was a small diner on the outskirts of town—neutral ground, but also isolated. A perfect place for an ambush.