Seth shut off the engine as he pulled into the driveway. She had been silent the whole way, fumbling with her bag's strap. "All right," he said softly. “We’re home.”Isabella hesitated her hand on the door handle. “You’ll call me if anything happens?”Seth gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, Izzy. Just relax. I’ll handle this.”She nodded reluctantly and stepped out, watching as Seth drove away. But the moment his car disappeared down the street, her unease grew stronger. She estimated it would take Seth about fifteen minutes to reach the tattoo parlor. With haste, she got her phone out, found Edward's number, and hit the call button. Holding the phone to her ear, she paced anxiously, waiting for him to answer. "Hey, what's up?" Edward's tone was upbeat. "Edward, I need your help." The words came out quickly. "Seth's going after this guy at a tattoo parlour near The Muse, and I'm worried he'll—""Whoa, slow down. What guy?"Isabella took a deep breath. "The one who dr
"Man, you still draw like a pro," Diego said, watching Juan's pencil move across the paper. "Too bad you waste it on stupid shit like this."Juan flinched but kept drawing, his fingers trembling slightly. The only sound in the deserted store was the impact of a pencil on paper. Edward leaned against the counter and drummed his fingers anxiously, while Seth stood with his arms crossed and his jaw gritted.Finally, Juan set down the pencil. "There." His voice was barely above a whisper. The face staring back at him was detailed enough to be immediately recognizable."If I ever catch you pulling something like this again..." Diego grabbed Juan by the collar of his shirt."I won't! I swear!" Juan squirmed in Diego's grip."You better not." Diego shoved him away in disgust. He turned to Seth, running a hand over his tattooed head. "Listen, man, I owe you. Whatever you need, just say the word."Seth tucked the sketch into his jacket. "Just keep your brother in line. And Diego?" He paused a
Seth's phone buzzed just as he was finishing his morning coffee. Louis's name flashed on the screen."Got something?" Seth answered without a preamble."Marcus Reynolds. 1247 Central Avenue." Louis's voice was clipped, professional. "Known associate of some unsavoury characters. Has a record, but mostly minor stuff."Seth was already grabbing his keys. "Thanks. I'll check it out.""Wait—" Louis started, but Seth had already hung up.The drive to Central Avenue took twenty minutes. Seth pulled up across the street, studying the modest single-story house. Something felt off. The front door was slightly open.Seth reached for his phone again. "Louis? Yeah, I'm here, but something's not right. The door's open.""Don't go in," Louis ordered immediately. "I'm ten minutes out."Those ten minutes felt like hours. Seth kept his eyes fixed on the house, noting every detail – the worn welcome mat, the untended flowerbeds, the newspaper still sitting in its plastic wrapper on the steps.Louis's u
Richard's phone chimed just as the sun had begun to rise. He'd been awake for hours, roaming his study with a half-empty glass of whisky between his fingers, waiting for news. The caller ID indicated one of his most loyal operatives. "Talk to me," Richard commanded, his voice strangely calm. "Boss, there has been a complication." Jake's usually steady voice wavered slightly. "Reynolds is alive. He's at Lily Memorial."Richard's fingers tightened around the phone. "Explain."“The cops got to him faster than expected.” Jake hesitated before continuing. “He lost a lot of blood, but they got him into surgery. There’s a police presence, but it’s light—just two officers on guard duty.”Richard walked to his window, staring out at the lawn below. "And the package?"Jake’s silence was answer enough.“Jake,” Richard said, his voice low and dangerous, “tell me you didn’t leave loose ends.”“We couldn’t find it, boss,” Jake admitted. “But...I think the cops did. Detective Grant and that Donovan
The tech lab hummed with the sound of cooling fans and computer towers. Seth drummed his fingers against his thigh while Louis paced behind Tara, the department's lead forensic analyst."How much longer?" Seth asked, for what felt like the hundredth time.Tara didn't look away from her screens. "Encryption like this doesn't crack itself, guys. This is military-grade stuff." Her fingers flew across multiple keyboards. "Whoever locked this drive really didn't want anyone getting in."Louis leaned forward. "But you can break it?""Already am." Tara allowed herself a small smile. "Just... there."The screens flickered, then filled with folders and files."Holy shit," Louis breathed, staring at the directory structure. "There must be thousands of documents here."Tara's fingers were already moving. "Let me run a quick diagnostic...Yeah, we're looking at about 2.3 terabytes of data. Documents, spreadsheets, photos, videos—""Start with the most recently accessed files," Seth suggested, pull
An hour later, Richard walked into the precinct like he owned it, Barrett Smith at his side. His tailored suit probably cost more than most detectives made in a month.Louis watched through the two-way mirror as Richard settled into the interview room, exchanging quiet words with his lead counsel. The sight made his stomach turn."Remember," Captain Benjamin muttered from behind him, "stick to procedure. One wrong move and his lawyer will shut this down faster than you can blink."Louis nodded tightly, his case file clutched in his hands. "I got it, Cap."The interview room felt colder than usual as Louis entered, settling into the chair across from Richard. His smile never wavered."Mr. Stone," Louis began, setting his recorder on the table. "Thank you for coming in. For the record, the time is 01:00 PM, and present in the room are me, Detective Louis Grant, and Mr.Richard Stone, and his legal counsel, Barrett Smith."Barrett Smith leaned forward. "Let the record show that my client
Sarah’s stance was something Louis had seen before—it was the kind of thing you picked up after years undercover. She was younger than he'd expected, maybe mid-thirties. Even without looking up, there was something about her that made him understand Seth's warning about 'intense.’"You're late," she said, still focused on her phone, her fingers tapping rapidly across the screen. A half-empty cup of tea sat cooling by her elbow."Traffic," Seth said, sliding into the booth. Louis took the seat facing the door, his back straight, shoulders tense. Some habits you couldn't shake, suspended or not.Sarah finally put her phone down and pushed her glasses up, looking straight at Louis. “So you're the one who's got Richard Stone running scared enough to plant evidence."Sarah—" Seth started."What? We're not pretending this is a social call." She waved down a server. "The house special dumplings, please. And more tea." Her attention snapped back to Louis. "Tell me everything. Start with the v
Isabella walked around their living room whilst holding her phone tightly. She could not remember how many times she had called Seth, but each time the call ended up in voicemail. After that phone conversation, he had hurried out during supper and hardly spoke for hours. These days, that was becoming their new normal - him rushing out, coming home late, or leaving before the sun was up. They barely had time to just be together anymore.It had been ages since they'd had a real date or even just a quiet night in. Every time she tried to plan something, work pulled him away. Or at least, that's what he called it. She knew what he was really doing - trying to track down the people who'd hurt her. And yeah, it was sweet how he wanted to protect her, keep her safe. But she needed him home and in one piece, not risking his life playing hero. Sitting here, waiting, imagining everything that could go wrong? That was its own kind of tortureShe tried his number one more time, already knowing w
James pulled out his phone. "I can call them. Set something up for tomorrow, if you want."Isabella nodded slowly. "Tomorrow then." She looked at Seth. “Is that okay with you?""Of course," he assured her. James stood, wiping his face one final time. "I'll let them know. And Izzy?" He hesitated at the doorway. "Thank you. For listening. For giving me a chance to explain."After he left, Isabella collapsed against Seth, finally allowing her tears to fall. "All these years," she whispered. "I thought I must have done something terrible to make them hate me so much. And it turns out...it turns out I just wasn't theirs."Seth held her tighter, his voice fierce. "You are worth so much more than their prejudices, Isabella. So much more than their narrow definition of family."She nodded against his chest, then straightened, wiping her eyes. The Rivera’s dining room felt too small, too intimate for the weight of the moment. Isabella strode in, her heels clicking against the floor, Seth's s
Seth's overly large living room felt smaller with James in it. Isabella sat rigidly on the couch, watching her brother pace back and forth. The silence between them was heavy with years of hurt."Izzy," James finally began, using her childhood nickname. "I've been trying to reach you for weeks.""I know." Her voice was flat, controlled."I saw everything on the news. The Stone case, Victoria's death..." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "It made me think about a lot of things. About what I did. About who I became."Isabella remained silent, her hands clasped tightly in her lap."I was wrong," James continued, his voice cracking. "So wrong. When Richard offered me money..." He shook his head. "I convinced myself that you were the one who was wrong. That you weren't living up to his expectations.""Expectations," Isabella repeated softly. "What kind of expectation requires a man to beat his wife to a pulp, lock her up for days, sleep with her cousin, and talk down on her consta
The common room of the women's correctional facility was quiet except for the droning of the television. Victoria Stone sat alone; her greying hair pulled back severely, her prison uniform neat despite its wear. Her eyes were fixed on the screen where her son's face filled the frame."Breaking news," the anchor announced. "Richard Stone, once considered untouchable, has been sentenced today. The business mogul faces forty years before the possibility of parole..."Victoria's hands began to shake. The paper cup of coffee she held slipped from her fingers, spreading a dark stain across the linoleum floor. No one moved to help her clean it up."My boy," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Oh, my Richard."The news showed footage of him being led away in handcuffs, and Victoria pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to stifle her sobs. She saw what others might miss - how he held his head, just like his father used to. The same proud tilt of the chin, even in defeat."I taught him that,"
Frederick stood at the podium, his earlier confidence now radiating through the courtroom. "Your Honor, I'd like to call Special Agent Tara Winters to the stand."A sharp-featured woman in a crisp jacket strode to the witness box. After being sworn in, she met Richard's gaze unflinchingly."Agent Tara, please tell the court about the Operation.""For three years, we tracked Mr. Stone's network of influence. I was in charge of cracking codes, following the trail and everything techy. We got encrypted USB drives detailing payoffs to judges, politicians, and law enforcement officials across five states; we got videos of Richard's trafficking of human, arms and drugs, which were labelled as medical supplies." Frederick collected all the said evidence and handed them to the bailiff.Richard's face was drained of color. He had always been too careful, but Louis and his team had somehow gotten to the root of his operations.Next came Marcus Reynolds, one of Richard's former enforcers; he jus
Isabella, Seth, Louis, and Frederick gathered in a little corner out of sight during the break. There was enough tension in the room for a knife to pierce it. Isabella paced while her heels clicked on the ground. "I do not like this," she said, running her hands through her hair. "Barrett is too confident. What if Richard actually walks free?"Frederick leaned back in his chair, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "That's exactly what I want them to think."Seth raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?""I'm playing dumb," Frederick explained, his eyes gleaming. "Let them attack our evidence. Let them think they're winning. They have no proof of Richard's innocence - not a single piece. But me?" He tapped his briefcase. "I'm just getting started."He turned to Louis sharply. "Tell me you collected everything by the book. We can't have any of it thrown out on technicalities."Louis shifted uncomfortably. "About that evidence...There's something else you should know," he said, his voice
“Take this and deliver it to my son,” Victoria said, more as a command than a request.“Ma…” his objection was cut short by Victoria's steely gaze and commanding presence that left no room for argument.Barrett carefully folded Victoria's letter and tucked it into his briefcase. Her intensity was unchanged, even behind bars - she was a woman who always found a way to exert control.Two days later, Richard sat in his cell, looking like a shell of his former self. “Your lawyer is here to see you,” the guard announced as he banged on the gate rails of Richard's cell“Richard, it's nice to see you, how are you holding up?” Barret asked although he already knew the answer to that one just by looking at him. He tried talking to Richard about their court hearing happening the next day, but he seemed lost and resigned, so Barrett resorted to his last option. He discreetly handed him the letter his mother had written.“What's this?” Richard asked uninterested“Something from your mother, She
Isabella walked into the hospital cafeteria and looked around the room until she saw Eliza seated in a booth in the corner. The woman appeared smaller than Isabella could recall, and a frightening vulnerability had taken the place of her normal self-assured manner. Eliza had a mixture of desperation and hope in her eyes as Isabella drew closer. "Thank you for coming," She said in a voice that was almost audible, a little bit above a whisper. "Start talking," Isabella responded, sliding into the seat across from her. "What's going on? Why I'm I here?"Eliza's story spilt out - the medical crisis, Jackson's abandonment, Richard's rejection. She explained JJ's critical need for a blood transfusion and how she'd exhausted every possible option. "You're AB negative," Eliza concluded, "and you're his only hope."Isabella listened carefully, her initial anger slowly giving way to concern for the innocent child caught in this web of adult complications. She thought about JJ - a child who ha
Barrett straightened his suit and took a deep breath before stepping into Richard's room. The man was sitting upright on the hospital bed, his wrists cuffed to the rails, his face a mixture of frustration and concern."Finally," Richard snapped as Barrett entered. "What took so long? Where’s JJ?""I’ve made arrangements for you to see him," Barrett replied, his tone calm and measured. "The guards will unlock you, but there are conditions. No outbursts. No arguments with Eliza. You’re here for JJ, and that’s it."Richard scoffed. "I’m not a child, Barrett. Just get me to my son."The guards, standing at the doorway, exchanged glances before stepping forward to unlock the cuffs. Richard flexed his wrists as soon as they were free, his movements sharp and impatient.Barrett gestured toward the door. "Follow me." Barrett led Richard to the waiting room where Eliza sat, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She looked up as they entered, her face paling when she saw Richard."What is h
The night was endless, a fight Eliza couldn't win. JJ's fever raged like a fire, his tiny body too hot, his cries piercing. Her designer blouse—once a symbol of her old life—was now wrinkled, stained, and clinging to her as she darted back and forth, wet napkins in hand, trying to cool him down."Shh, baby," she whispered, though her voice was barely there. "Mommy's here."But nothing worked. JJ’s cries only grew louder, echoing off the thin motel walls. The cheap room felt smaller and smaller, closing in on her with every minute. No money for a doctor. No help. Just her and her sick little boy.She tried everything she could think of—cold clothes, gentle rocking, soft lullabies. The tricks she used to pay others to do were now her last hope. The hours dragged, heavy and cruel.Finally, sometime before dawn, JJ’s cries stopped. His fever eased, and his breathing slowed. Eliza sat on the edge of the bed, completely exhausted. She had not slept, nor even rested her eyes even for a secon