But I know exactly why I called myself theace.
Because today, I didn’t just change outfits.
I’m bringing my own secret no one knows about.
FORTY-THREE
Greesha
The edges of my vision are darkening with a vicious pulse.
I knew I was reaching a limit where I could either remain on the cusp of justifying caring for Viraj—a man who had betrayed me by ignoring my individuality—or believe that he didn’t deserve the outcome of a mission that washorrendouslyjeopardized.
Garvit had promptly given me the location to where Viraj’s phone pinged last. But that wasn’t the only thing he’d discovered. It was the fact that he’d found Viraj’s signal suspiciously close tosomeone else’s.
This rookie was proving to be an asset but I didn’t have time to think any further.
The moment Advik and I stop outside of a nondescript building—we jump out of the car. I have no idea what is waiting for us but I know to cover my bases.
I signal Advik to stay near our car while I go and pour all my surveillance tactics around the near-empty building. The roof is unprotected. The plots near it are almost empty. There are no structures to accommodate a sniper at a close enough range that could aim for someoneinsidethe building.
With my inspection completed, I nod at Advik to follow me inside from the door that isn’t the obvious choice to enter. Aftera few tries, we are in. My ears locked on anything that seems out of the ordinary.
A scream freezes both of us. It’s a guttural one, sourced from the chest. Something that can’t have us feeling anything other than a directional sense. Not empathy. Not forme. My focus is locked in.
I feel Advik tense at the inhumane echo.
The moment we close in on the source, I findthedoor ominous enough in the labyrinth of an abandoned corporate structure.
My heart pounds in my throat as I realize that this is it. I’ve called for back up, but it’s too far away.
“Get around the hallway. Find a way to get signal so you can—”
“Get the evidence transmitted?” Advik cuts me off with an expression that has my stomach tightening. “I got you. Let me—”
The scream that causes our collective muteness is terrifying. The gravelly desperation makes me tune in...finally.
It’s someone weknow. Someone we recognize. Someone different from who I believe wouldnevermake a sound in such a situation.
I watch as Advik’s eyes widen. His grip on his laptop tightens. Before I can stop him, he lunges at the forbidden door. Yanking it open.Stupid moron.
Everything stops.
It takes me two seconds to realize that their mission wasn’t to have us killed. But for me to get a working GenVault system at the premise and erase their existence from the company.
“Advik,” I breathe out as we find ourselves surrounded by at least ten men—all holding a rifle or a handgun.
I immediately spot Viraj’s limp body—strewn about on the floor—tied to the leg of a desk. The space is open yet utterlybarren. Like a staging project to become an office space born out ofblood.
I watch Advik’s hand hold up the laptop he’d been carrying. The subtle wave is enough for Mehul’s face to start beaming. Because right next to him, sitting in—no, tied to a chair, is... Dev.
And he isn’t moving either. Head bowed, Dev’s breathing is labored, harsh. But at least he looks alive.
I’m not in a position to actually do anything about this anymore. The back up—if it arrives—will only result in killing the men here. And that will bring us back to square one.
“Advik Sharma,” Mehul says, his expression almost ecstatic. “Take a seat.Take a seat!”
The casual gesture has my throat locked, my limbs ready to tackle every man in the room. But I know I’m severely outnumbered. I have no idea what Mehul has in store for me.
