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The dim light from the basement flickered as I walked back to the main area. After
resting, I felt a renewed sense of purpose or at least I told myself that. The team wast
huddled around Daniel as he stood at the
center, a blueprint of their latest plan spread out on the table.
“Alright,” Daniel began, his voice calm yet commanding. “We’re taking this to the next level. To pull this off, we need the best disguises money can buy. Silicone masks, voice modulators, outfits–everything. I’ve placed the order, and the supplier will drop them off in a secure location.”
“Where exactly?” Blake asked, leaning forward.
“Outside Mannheim,” Daniel replied, pointing to a marked spot on the map. “Blake, you‘ re retrieving it. You‘ re the best with routes, and you know how to stay off the radar.”
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Blake gave a sharp nod. “Got it.”
Daniel’s gaze shifted to the rest of us. “In the meantime, we‘ re shifting focus to Gregor Fitzburg. The man’s been running. illegal pharmaceutical operations for years, and we’ve got enough dirt on him to sink his empire. But we need to move carefully. He’s slippery, and his money buys silence.”
I stiffened at the mention of Gregor‘ s name. Calix‘ s jaw tightened, his eyes dark with barely contained rage.
“Fitzburg,” Calix muttered, his voice low. “That man killed my grandmother without lifting a finger. His poisons did the work, and he walked free because he bought the law.”
A tense silence settled over the room.
“I’m in,” I said, breaking it. All eyes turned to me. “I‘ ll help with this,
whatever it takes. But… I need time. I‘ m
still figuring out how to work with a team
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like this. Just–be patient with me.”
Daniel nodded slowly. “Fair enough. If you‘ re serious, start with the digital side. We’ll need you to handle the hackings.”
“I will,” I assured him.
The room seemed to relax, the weight of Calix’s story still hanging heavy. But there was no time to dwell. Plans were in motion.
The next morning, we regrouped in the surveillance room. Blake stood by the door, ready to leave for the pickup.
“I’m coming with you,” I announced suddenly.
Blake raised an eyebrow. “No offense, Daphne, but it’s better if I go alone. Too risky.”
“I’ll be careful,” I said, crossing my arms. “I just think you might need backup in case something goes wrong.”
“No,” Daniel said firmly, cutting me off before I could argue further. “You‘ re
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staying here. Your name’s still all over the news. If anyone recognizes you, it jeopardizes everything.”
“I can wear a disguise-”
“No,” Daniel repeated, his tone leaving no room for debate.
Sue chimed in with a smirk. “He’s right. Let Blake handle it. You might just make another stupid mistake like last time.”
I glared at her, feeling the heat rise in my chest. “I’m not useless, Sue. I can help.”
“You want to help?” she retorted. “Then stay here and do your job. Let the rest of us handle the fieldwork.”
Blake sighed, stepping between us. “Enough, both of you. Daphne, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got this. I’ll be fine.”
I clenched my fists, swallowing my frustration. “Fine,” I muttered, retreating to my workstation.
As Blake left, the room felt stifling. I stared
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at the screen, the endless streams of data blurring together. I felt trapped, like a caged bird. For years, I’d been used to working alone, making my own decisions. Now, I had to answer to someone else.
“This isn’t a prison,” I whispered to myself, though it felt like one.
My eyes wandered to the corner of the monitor, where a notification popped up. I clicked on it, and my stomach dropped.
[World News: Marco Salvani vows justice for his father.]
I clicked the article, my heart pounding. A video played, showing my ex–husband standing at a podium. He looked every bit the grieving son, his voice steady and confident.
“My father was a good man,” Marco said, his tone dripping with false sincerity. “He didn’t deserve what happened to him. Daphne Rodriguez, my ex–wife, betrayed our family and took his life. I will not rest
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until justice is served.”
The screen shifted to show a montage of my photos–some from happier times, others mugshots from the prison. The words *Fugitive at Large* flashed beneath.
my name.
“She can’t hide forever,” Marco continued. “And when we find her, the truth will come out.”
My blood ran cold. He was painting himself as the victim, the hero seeking justice. And the world believed him.
“Liar,” I whispered, my voice trembling with rage.
The article ended, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen. My chest. heaved, my mind racing.
Marco wasn’t just trying to clear his name. He was coming for me.
I turned to Daniel, who stood reviewing some files nearby. “We have a bigger
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problem,” I said, my voice shaky but
resolute.
“What is it?” he asked, frowning.
I pointed to the screen, my hands. trembling. “Marco. He’s hunting me.”
Daniel’s face darkened as he scanned the article. “We‘ 11 deal with him. But for now, we stick to the plan.”
I nodded, though unease gnawed at me. Marco wouldn’t stop until he found me. And when he did, I had no idea what I’d do.
For now, all I could do was wait.
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