The three walked in silence, their breath visible in the crisp night air. The weight of their mission hung between them, unspoken but understood. Jillian clenched her fists, her mind racing. This wasn't just about survival anymore. It was about justice. It was about making Camilla and her unknown accomplice pay.
Dante broke the silence. "The warehouse on Hollow Creek… it's not just some random place. It used to be a meeting spot for some of the worst kinds of people."
Leo exhaled sharply. "Which means whoever we're looking for is either still in the game or has something to hide."
Jillian nodded, determination hardening her features. "Then we don't wait. We go tonight."
Dante glanced at her, then at Leo. "It's dangerous. If this guy really is a ghost, he won't like us snooping around."
Jillian smirked. "Then we make him regret coming after me in the first place."
With that, they moved quickly, their footsteps fading into the night as they headed toward Hollow Creek, ready to face whatever—or whoever—was waiting for them in the shadows.
The tension between them was palpable, a mix of anticipation and the weight of the unknown pressing down on their shoulders. The streets were quieter than usual, the late hour thinning out the usual night wanderers. Streetlights flickered overhead, casting long, eerie shadows that danced with each step they took.
Jillian pulled her hood over her head, her sharp gaze scanning their surroundings. Every sound felt amplified—the distant barking of a dog, the rustling of leaves, the faint hum of a passing car. Her mind replayed the events of the past weeks, the near abduction, the threats, the games Camilla had played. She had no intention of being a victim any longer.
Dante walked slightly ahead, his instincts razor-sharp. He had been in situations like this before—hunting, being hunted—but this was different. This wasn't just about settling an old score or collecting a debt. This was about uncovering the truth. About putting an end to a game they hadn't even realized they were part of until it was almost too late.
Leo, walking on Jillian's other side, checked his phone briefly before shoving it back into his pocket. "No messages," he muttered, as if expecting someone to reach out with a last-minute warning. "This doesn't feel right."
"It never does," Dante replied without looking back. "But we're too deep in to stop now."
Jillian inhaled sharply and squared her shoulders. "Then let's make sure this isn't for nothing."
They turned down a narrow alley that would lead them to the old warehouse district. The air grew colder, the night feeling heavier with every step. As they approached their destination, the world seemed to hold its breath. They weren't just chasing shadows anymore. They were walking straight into them.
The closer they got to Hollow Creek, the more the air thickened with tension. The place was known for being a ghost town at night—abandoned buildings, dimly lit streets, and the kind of silence that made even the bravest hesitate. It was the perfect place for someone who wanted to disappear.
Jillian, Dante, and Leo moved with purpose, their footsteps muffled against the cracked pavement. The smell of damp earth and rust lingered in the air, mixing with the distant scent of smoke from a nearby chimney. They stopped at the edge of a broken-down fence, staring at the warehouse district ahead.
Dante was the first to speak. "If this guy's hiding, he's not stupid. He knows someone might come looking for him."
Leo nodded. "Which means we don't walk in like we own the place. We stay low, move smart."
Jillian glanced at the rows of dark, lifeless buildings. Each one could be hiding the man they were looking for. Or worse—something they weren't prepared to face. She wasn't naïve. This wasn't just about information anymore. It was about survival.
She tightened her grip on the pocket knife she had brought. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
Dante gestured toward the far end of the district. "That building. It used to be a smuggler's hub back in the day. If he's anywhere, it's there."
Without another word, they moved.
The entrance was rusted, the large metal doors slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of darkness inside. Dante pressed his back against the wall and peeked through the gap. He turned back to them and whispered, "Empty. But someone's been here recently."
Jillian took a deep breath and stepped inside first. The air was thick with dust, the floor littered with old crates and broken glass. Every step echoed slightly, making her heart pound.
Then, a noise.
A faint shuffle.
Jillian froze. Leo and Dante tensed beside her.
Someone was here.
A shadow moved at the far end of the warehouse. Jillian's grip tightened on her knife.
Dante motioned for them to spread out. Leo flanked left, Dante to the right, while Jillian stayed in the center, her pulse hammering in her ears.
Another sound—a soft chuckle.
Then a voice, deep and amused.
"You're either really brave," the voice said, "or really stupid."
Jillian's blood ran cold.
They had walked into a trap.
Dante's muscles tensed, and Leo's hand hovered near his concealed weapon. Jillian clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay calm. The air around them thickened with danger, and the shadows seemed to close in.
A figure emerged from the darkness—a tall man, his face obscured by the dim light, but his stance was confident, dangerous. The glint of a blade caught the flickering streetlight.
"Looking for someone?" the man drawled, stepping forward slowly, his boots crunching against the gravel. His tone was mocking, amused, as if he had been expecting them.
Jillian swallowed hard. They had been careful, but not careful enough. This wasn't just some hired thug. This was the man—the ghost—who had been haunting her since that night.
Dante took a step forward, his voice steady. "And who the hell are you?"
The man chuckled, twirling the knife in his hand. "I'm the last person you should've come looking for."
Leo cursed under his breath. The way this man carried himself, the way he spoke—he wasn't just another street-level enforcer. He was someone who played a bigger game.
Jillian took a slow breath, her mind racing. They needed a way out, fast. But before she could speak, the man moved.
Lightning fast.
Dante barely dodged as the knife slashed through the air, missing him by inches. Leo lunged, but the man was already twisting, kicking him back into the wall.
Jillian spun on her heels, her instincts screaming at her to run—but she knew better. She wasn't a scared little girl anymore.
She was here to fight.