For a split second, the phone vibrated in Derrick's hand like a living thing, its insistence cutting through the tight air in the room. He had turned off his phone's ability to detect the IDs of callers for the sake of the mission, so he couldn't tell who was calling him. "Hello," he finally said as he picked and brought the phone to his ear. Before a word could be spoken, Dominic was already moving. He snapped his fingers just once, and a technician among the armed men was already moving, lifting a compact recording unit from a distant table. Cables were connected in practiced movement, and three screens blinked to life. Waveforms danced as the call was patched through, a location tracking software spinning up in the background. Everything was set. "Derrick Morgan," Derrick said evenly, his gaze flicking to Dominic for the briefest moment. "Derrick," Ivy's voice said from the other side. The equipment sent up by the technician had amplified the sound, making everyone present i

Pa Lorenzo had listened to her without interrupting. "My wife has come to see me with worse than migraines," he'd said after she was done with the lie. A crease formed between his brows as he shook his head once. Then his eyes narrowed, as though he were trying to recall something. "That night," he murmured. "There was a sound, then a scream. Or–no, maybe I'm mixing it up." Ivy had leaned forward before his thoughts could finish forming. "Grandpa," she'd said, keeping her voice warm and grounded. "Thinking like this won't help you right now. You need rest–a lot of it. Let the doctors do their job." He'd sighed, then let his head sink back into the pillow. "She'll come," Ivy added quickly. I promise you that.""How is the Lorenzo Group? A board meeting–""Grandpa," she cut in, rubbing his shoulder. "Have some rest please. We'll talk about business later."He had studied her for a long moment, then his eyes closed. The conversation ended there. She had left the room, and didn't

Dora watched as another fifty minutes slid into the digital timer, the digits settling into a steady rhythm. The numbers were no longer rushing. It had become a normal counter, as though the device was giving them all the time in the world. Moses sagged back against one of the pillars he was chained too, breath rasping in and out of him. "You–you sure made the right decision," he said, forcing the words out between gulps of air. His voice dropped lower than a whisper. "Goddammit. I need some water." Dora didn't respond. Her thoughts failed to line up properly after the call. They scattered, bumping into each other, and circling the same fear over and over.Vincent believed Derrick would come to her rescue. And when he did, the bomb would go off, killing them all. "Good girl." Dora's head snapped up just as she heard Vincent's voice, and this time, she saw him. He had appeared at the far end of the room, his smoking pipe between his lips, and flanked by armed men. "You beast!" D

Vincent gave off a low chuckle, as though they stood in an ordinary drawing room instead of a bomb plant. "Well, what does it matter?" he asked mildly. "You'll be dead in a while anyway." Derrick's eyes never left him. He possessed a stillness that seemed to press back against the tension in the room. It was the kind of stillness Vincent knew was associated with men who did not bluff. Vincent's smile gradually thinned, and he shrugged one shoulder. "Fine." Then he lifted his hand and clicked his fingers. Immediately, a section of the wall to their left groaned and split apart. A large screen slid out smoothly from it's concealed compartment, the mechanism humming to life. Static flickered only once, then the image sharpened. Derrick turned to the screen, noting the familiar lonely street on display. He saw himself standing there too, and he instantly remembered the moment. Vincent's men were all around him, and he watched himself duck, driving an elbow into a man's ribs. He piv

Shock wasn't a feeling that came easily to Derrick, but Vincent's voice struck him like a physical blow. His jaw tightened, the muscles along his cheek twisting.They turned slowly to see Vincent standing a few yards away, the dim light sharpening the edges of his smile. At least a dozen armed men fanned out behind him in a semicircle. A man carried Ma Lorenzo in his arms, her silver hair hanging loose against the dark sleeve of his coat. Her body was limp but not bloodied. "Fuck," Dominic breathed. The board had just slipped. "Right about time, sir," Dennis said as he walked away, crossing the distance until he stood beside Vincent and his men. "Smart ass, aren't you?" Vincent said lightly, leveling his gun at Derrick's chest. "Guess you didn't figure that I own the chessboard." "On your damn knees," one of Vincent's men said just then. "All of you!" Without looking at each other, Derrick and Dominic did as instructed. "Let her go," Derrick said, eyes fixed on Vincent. "For r