“Stop meddling with the mansion’s cameras.” His voice was rough, distorted slightly by the mask, but the tone was unmistakable. Threatening. Desperate. “Stay out of it. Let the things be buried in the old mansion unless you want this to end badly.”
The mansion. Barbara’s mansion. The security system I was installing. The footage I’d found.
This wasn’t about Los Zetas or cartel wars or Bratva business.
This was about her.
My mind raced, trying to process. This was the man from the footage. Had to be. The same build, same way of moving. The bastard who’d put his hands on Barbara, who’d shoved her against walls and pointed guns at her.
The boyfriend. Bass.
Except something about that didn’t fit. The voice—
“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded, taking a step forward.
He laughed, sharp and bitter. “Stay away from her. Stay away from that mansion. This is your only warning, tech boy.”
Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small cylinder. Before either of us could react, he threw it at the ground between us.
Smoke exploded outward, thick and gray, filling the parking lot in seconds. Chemical smell, acrid and burning. I couldn’t see two feet in front of me, couldn’t breathe without coughing.
“Motherfucker!” Illyana’s voice came from somewhere to my left, muffled by the smoke.
I moved forward, hands outstretched, trying to find him. But by the time the smoke started to clear, he was gone. Disappeared into the Chicago night like a ghost, leaving nothing behind except blood on the concrete and more questions than answers.
Illyana appeared through the dissipating smoke, her blade still out, her eyes scanning for threats that were no longer there. “What the fuck was that?” She turned to me, fury blazing in her ice-blue eyes. “What in this fucking world does he want from you? And why the fuck didn’t you let me kill him?”
I stared at the spot where he’d been standing, my blood still pounding, adrenaline making everything feel sharp and surreal. “Vladimir’s condition,” I said, the words comingautomatically. “No killing. If I’m involved in a death, he calls me back to Russia. My hunt for Douglas is over.”
“Douglas.” She spat the name like a curse. “You keep calling him that. Douglas the bastard. Douglas the thief. Do you even know his real name?”
“No.” The admission tasted bitter. “He used fake IDs, fake credentials, fake everything. Douglas Maclanden was just another lie in a long list of them. When I find him, I’ll learn his real name. Right before I drag him back to face what he did.”
Illyana sheathed her blade with a precise motion, but her jaw was tight with barely controlled rage. “So this masked asshole, he wasn’t Los Zetas?”
“No.” I was still staring at the blood on the concrete, my mind trying to piece together the puzzle. “He mentioned the mansion. The cameras. He wants me to stop working on the security system.”
“What mansion?”
“Davis estate. Next door to your brother’s place.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to organize my thoughts. “I’m installing a new system. Found evidence of tampering, loops in the footage. Someone’s been sneaking in.”
“And you think that was him?” Illyana gestured at the blood trail. “The one doing the sneaking?”
“I know it was him.” The certainty settled in my gut like stone. “I’ve seen footage. He’s been terrorizing someone in that house.”
Illyana’s expression sharpened. “Who?”
I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t tell her about Barbara, about the footage, about the way my chest had constricted watching that bastard put his hands on her. Because telling Illyana meant questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
Questions I didn’t have answers for.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said instead. “What matters is he just attacked me to get me to back off. Which means whatever he’s doing in that mansion, he’s desperate to keep it hidden.”
“So we find him.” Illyana’s voice went flat again, that deadly calm that meant she was already planning violence. “Track the blood, pull surveillance from the mall cameras, use your tech magic. Then I finish what I started.”
I shook my head. “We can’t. Not yet. I need—” I stopped, frustrated. What did I need? Time? Information? A way to help Barbara without violating Vladimir’s terms?
A way to save her without destroying myself in the process?
