Shadow Of Kingscity

The Ghost Elite Bargain

Three days passed, and Ethan still had no clue what to do with the items his uncle gave him. The encrypted flash drive sat on his workbench like it held all the answers in the world, but refused to open its mouth. The pictures were worse. Shots of Liam sitting with men who looked like trouble. The kind of men you do not want to owe money or favors. At the bottom of the envelope was a name written in neat handwriting. Mara.

His uncle had said a woman dropped it off. She came in a black Ferrari and told him the envelope would help Ethan find his brother. Ethan already suspected she was the same person tailing him the other day. He just did not know if she was friend or foe. Since she left no phone number or address, there was nothing he could do for now except keep his head down and listen for any whispers about Liam.

So he spent his days fixing cars at the workshop, keeping one ear open and both eyes sharp. Kingscity was loud as usual. Engines, metal, and gossip always mixed in the air.

A low rumble cut through the noise. A black SUV rolled into the workshop like it owned the place. Vancroft’s men. They came for the Shelby GT500. The car was freshly restored and painted just the way Damien wanted it. Damien… the Black Wolf of Kingscity.

“We will take the car,” one of the guards said.

“I will deliver it myself,” Ethan replied without looking up.

The guard stepped forward, chest out like he wanted to prove something. But the moment he came close, he froze. It happened fast. Ethan simply raised his eyes. That was all. The guard’s breath hitched as if he had brushed against a wild animal. His pulse jumped. He stepped back without shame.

Uncle Mark watched from behind a stack of tires. He said nothing, but his thoughts were loud. Ethan has changed. He is not the same boy who left years ago.

Ethan got into the Shelby and turned the key. The engine growled to life. A clean, powerful sound.

Then another sound joined it.

The black Ferrari.

Ethan’s head snapped toward the entrance. The Ferrari glided into the workshop like a cat walking into a room it already owned. He stepped out of the Shelby, leaving the engine running. His eyes stayed locked on the car as it came to a stop.

The door opened.

Ethan needed a second to process the sight. She stepped out like someone who had no idea the world was dangerous. She was not tall, somewhere around his stomach level. Long dark hair. Smooth skin. Jeans that fit her like she lived in a gym. A white crop top that showed her flat stomach. Sneakers clean enough to make the floor feel dirty.

Her presence felt nothing like the car behind her. That Ferrari gave off mystery and danger. She gave off sunshine and polite small talk.

She walked over with a lazy, confident pace. No fear in her eyes, even with Ethan towering above her.

“Hi, Ethan,” she said with a warm smile.

He said nothing. He just stared, trying to match her face with the mess around him. Vancroft’s men did not dare touch the Shelby now. They stood near the SUV like statues, still shaken from Ethan’s earlier glare.

Mara took a small step closer. “Can we talk privately? I have something to tell you.”

Ethan’s expression did not change. His eyes were calm but sharp, the kind of look that warned people not to test his patience. He walked right past her.

“Follow me,” he said.

She followed with that same soft smile, calm as ever, while Ethan stayed serious, like a man who forgot what smiling felt like.

Ethan brought her into his small office. The room still carried Liam’s touch. Tidy shelves. Old trophies. Car badges arranged like someone with too much time and pride.

“Sit,” Ethan said as he took his own seat.

She did not. Instead, she wandered around the room like a curious cat. Fingertips dragging over metal logos, tapping lightly on trophy cups, humming quietly to herself.

Ethan watched her for a moment. Then he cut her off.

“How do you know my brother?”

She stopped touching a shelf and glanced over her shoulder.

“Not much. We were not close. I went to him for help and he turned me down.”

“What kind of help?”

“I am a journalist,” she said. “I wanted him to help me uncover a story. He refused and told me to stay away if I valued my life.”

“And you still followed him,” Ethan said, voice flat.

“Yep.” She gave him a small teasing smile.

“And you took the pictures in the envelope.”

Another nod. “Yep.”

“So what exactly is this story you were chasing? And where did you get that flash drive?”

She finally moved to the chair and sat down. Ethan’s eyes never left her face.

Instead of answering, she tilted her head.

“So where have you been all these years?”

Ethan’s expression hardened.

“That is none of your business.”

“Well,” she said lightly, “if I am supposed to trust you and tell you what I know, I should at least know who I am dealing with. I am your only clue if you want to find your brother.”

Ethan stood and moved closer. The air changed instantly. His presence hit her like a wall. She could smell a clean, sharp scent from his cologne, but beneath it there was something heavier. Power. Experience. Something dangerous.

“I do not have time for games,” Ethan said. “You either tell me what I need to know, or I will force it out of you.”

She leaned closer too, closing the gap by choice. Her eyes stayed steady.

“No. I will not tell you anything yet. My life is already on the line because I got involved with your brother’s case. I am not trusting anybody until I learn the truth about you.”

For a moment they stared at each other, neither blinking. Then Ethan stepped back and gave a slow smile. Calm. Controlled. Almost amused.

“Fine. I will tell you where I have been. But before that, you will decrypt the flash drive and show me everything inside it.”

She scratched her cheek awkwardly.

“Yeah… about that. I cannot decrypt it. I was hoping you could.”

“And why would I know how?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I do not know. You carry yourself like an ex militant.”

Ethan stared at her, unamused.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “I worked as a bodyguard for a powerful man for the last seven years.”

She nodded, studying his shoulders and build.

“Hm. Makes sense. Explains why you look like that.”

Ethan knew she did not believe his answer. Not even a little. But if she wanted to play along, he would too. As long as it brought him closer to finding Liam.

“Great,” Ethan said. His voice was steady, but his eyes had sharpened. “Since you know what I have been doing these past years, can we go back to the story you were chasing? And my brother’s abductors. Are they connected, or are these two different issues?”

Her playful look faded. Her voice lowered and her posture changed.

“There is an organization called the Ghost Elite.”

Ethan felt a shock run through him, but he kept his face calm. He forced a confused expression.

“What is the Ghost Elite, and what do they do?”

“I am not fully sure,” she said. “But it looks like your brother wanted to work with them. Or maybe he got close to them and something happened.”

“What happened?” Ethan asked. His frustration slipped through, and the muscles in his jaw tightened. The last thing he wanted was his brother tangled in the same darkness he barely escaped.

Instead of replying, she tilted her head and fired back another question.

“Who was he?”

Ethan blinked. “Who are you talking about?”

“Your boss. The powerful man you worked for in those seven years. Who was he?” Her tone was sharp and firm, like she was drilling through a wall.

Ethan looked away for a moment and sighed.

“I am sorry. I cannot disclose that. It is confidential.”

She smiled. A thin, stubborn smile.

“Then I cannot tell you anything else.”

She stood to leave. “Good luck finding your brother.”

She turned, but before she reached the door, Ethan spoke.

“You are involved with these people too. In one way or another.”

She froze.

“You knew they were dangerous,” Ethan said. “Yet you kept digging. Even after Liam was taken, you are still here, chasing answers. Journalists are curious, fine, but this is deeper than curiosity. This story matters to you. Personally.”

She slowly turned back toward him. Her lips curved into a small smile.

“Yes, you are right,” she said softly. “But I cannot say anything to you unless you tell me the truth.”

“What truth are you looking for?” Ethan asked.

She met his eyes without fear.

“Who you really are. You do not expect me to believe you are just a bodyguard. There is more to you, and you need to come clean. With proof. Then I will trust you.”

She pointed at his desk. “My contact is there.”

A small card sat near his tools, as if it had been waiting all along.

“I will be waiting for your call,” she said. “When you are ready to be honest.”

Then she walked out, her footsteps light but her message heavy enough to fill the whole room.