BENJAMIN'S HOUSE Benjamin’s voice thundered through the spacious living room, reverberating off the high ceilings and floors.“Where the hell are they?” he barked, standing beside the bar, his wine glass untouched on the table. His jaw was clenched so tightly that the veins on his neck pulsed with restrained anger. “I sent your men to track Scott—Scott, a man who shouldn’t even be able to walk in the open without someone spotting him since they have his picture—and you’re telling me no one has reported back in days?”The thug standing in front of him, a tall man in his early forties with a shaved head and anxious eyes, shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wiped his palm against his jeans. “Boss, I… I’ve been trying to get in touch with them. None of their numbers are going through. I even sent out word in the usual corners, talked to guys who know our routes. Nothing.”Benjamin’s eyes narrowed. “You’re telling me you lost every single man I sent after him? Every one of t

SCOTT'S GUEST HOUSE Lisa was already up before the sun was fully out. She had tossed and turned for a while, her mind wouldn’t stop running circles around everything that had happened so far. She needed something, anything, to distract herself.Eventually, she slipped out of bed, grabbed the hoodie Scott had lent her last night, and padded quietly down the stairs. The faint smell of coffee hung in the air. She followed it and found Scott sitting on the couch in the living room, remote in hand, and his eyes on some morning talk show.He noticed her and turned his head slightly.“You’re up early,” he said, his voice still sounding rough, indicating that he woke up not too long ago. “How’re you feeling?”Lisa managed a small smile. “I’m fine. A lot better, actually. Slept like a log.”Scott studied her for a moment, probably trying to read if she was telling the truth, then gave a small nod. “Good to hear.”Lisa rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Uh… I was wondering if I could take

The front door shut behind Scott with a thud, and the sound of his car starting drifted in through the living room window. Leah stood there for a second, hands on her hips, staring at the space where her brother had just been.She exhaled in a long, theatrical sigh. “Of course,” she muttered under her breath. “Perfect timing, Leah, perfect timing.”She padded barefoot into the kitchen. “Might as well feed myself if I’m gonna be babysitting,” she said to nobody in particular. She yanked the fridge open, scanning its contents. “Milk… eggs… leftover takeout… yeah, eggs win.”As she pulled out a carton, she glanced toward the ceiling, listening for any movement upstairs. The faint sound of running water came from upstairs.“Still in the bathroom,” Leah mumbled. “Probably still in the shower, Perfect. That gives me a chance to make breakfast for us.”Upstairs, Lisa stood in front of the mirror, toweling her damp hair. She hated the idea of staying here any longer than necessary because s

BENJAMIN'S HOUSE Benjamin descended the narrow basement with his hands deep in the pockets of his black trousers.He reached the bottom and paused for a moment, standing before the heavy steel door. The air down here was cooler, dense, and tinged with the metallic scent of blood and the faint stench of sweat. Two of his men stood guard at the entrance.One of them straightened immediately. “Boss,” he said, in a low and respectful way. He then reached for the latch.Benjamin didn’t even look at him. He simply nodded once, and the man swung the door open.Inside, the basement had a single overhead light that swung from a chain. In the center of the room sat a metal chair, bolted to the floor. The man in the chair — the one Benjamin had once trusted to find Lisa — was barely recognizable. His swollen face was a mess of cuts and bruises, one eye swollen completely shut and his split lips had dried blood on it. His shirt hung in tatters, soaked through and fresh blood ran down from a wo

LISA'S HOUSE Lisa pushed her key into the lock and opened the door. Immediately she opened the door, her eyes swept across the room and instantly saw that her place was a mess.Not just messy from neglect, not like she had forgotten to clean up before leaving. This was deliberate. The couch cushions were ripped apart, the stuffing spilled on the floor. Drawers had been yanked out entirely and overturned. The small coffee table she had once carefully placed in the center of the room was tipped on its side, one of the legs cracked at an angle. Even the picture frames on the walls had been knocked down, their glass shattered across the floor.For a moment she simply stood there in the doorway, her fingers still around the doorknob, staring in disbelief at what used to be her space.“Benjamin…” she muttered under her breath.Of course it was him. Who else would do something like this? Who else had both the motive and the lack of restraint to ransack her home like it was some crime scene