The sight stops me cold.
My apartment’s a wreck.
Bookshelves toppled, papers strewn across the floor, couch cushions slashed. My heart lurches into my throat, and I drop my bag, Bean tumbling out.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, stepping inside, my sneakers crunching on broken glass from a shattered picture frame.
My Disney posters are torn, my coloring books shredded. I
t’s like a tornado hit, but this was no accident.
I scan the room, my pulse hammering, and spot a note pinned to the fridge with a kitchen knife. My hands shake as I pull it free, the paper crinkling.
Scrawled in sharp, black ink…Next time, you’re dead.
The words hit like a punch, stealing my breath.
I stumble back, clutching the note, my mind racing. Who did this? Travis? The Night Ops Guard?
They knew I was here last night, knew I was digging.
But why warn me again instead of… finishing it?
Or is it someone else? My work at Knox & Rain has put plenty of bad people behind bars—corrupt CEOs, drug lords, even a crooked senator.Anyone of them could want revenge.
My stomach churns as I think of Marcus Vane, the official I exposed three years ago for embezzling millions. He swore he’d make me pay, and he’s got the connections to pull this off. Butthe Guard’s a more immediate threat. Travis’s face flashes in my mind—his smirk, his warning.
Did he do this to scare me straight?
Panic claws at me, and I sink onto the couch, glass crunching under me. I grab Bean, hugging him tight, his warmth a small comfort.
My eyes sting, but I refuse to cry.
I’m Miles Nadal, damn it. I don’t break.
But right now, I’m scared—scared in a way I haven’t been since I started this job. I fumble for my phone, debating whether to call Kyle or the police.
But what can they do?
If the police could do anything about The Guard then I wouldn’t need to investigate them in the first place. As far as the police go, they’re untouchable. And if it’s Vane, he’s too smart to leave evidence.
I stand, pacing the wreckage of my home, the note crumpled in my fist.
Travis’s voice echoes:You won’t see us coming.Is this what he meant? Or is he watching, waiting for me to crack?
I glance at the window, half-expecting to see his shadow across the street.
Nothing but city lights stare back.
I set Bean on the couch, my resolve hardening. If Travis or Vane or whoever thinks this will stop me, they’re wrong.
I grab my laptop from my bag—thankfully untouched—and open it, my fingers flying over the keys.
I’m not backing down.
I’ll find out who did this, and then I’ll expose the Night Ops Guard, no matter what it takes.
But as I type, my heart pounds, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched…
