Chapter 58: The Truth Uncovered Part 3

***—A few months before Darrel's accident—***

The room felt cold. Not only because of the humidity in the air or the cold wind coming from the thunderstorm outside, but also because of the intense looks exchanged between the three men inside, as well as the silence that enveloped the entire room. Darrel glanced at the two men in front of him, giving one a look of caution and the other a look of suspicion.

"Thanks for coming," he said to the slender man in front of him before nodding to the other man standing closer to the door, "Does he have to be here?"

Keenan rubbed his chin and looked back to see his loyal bodyguard. He just chuckled before turning back to Darrel. "I told him to watch over me at all times and never leave my side. He's not the kind of person who would neglect his duties, and certainly not one who would disobey an order so easily."

Darrel continued to stare at Adrian as the man straightened up, pulling his coat back slightly to reveal the holster strap of the pistol hidden inside.

*‘This man is dangerous,'* Darrel thought to himself. He was immediately on guard. But at the same time he knew that the guard's presence only proved that Keenan still didn't fully trust him.

"So why did you call me here?" he asked Darrel. Darrel exhaled with a clenched jaw. He was seriously considering what to do, as he had his own doubts about whether Keenan was someone he could trust, or maybe he was involved in *'their'* thing. But Darrel recalled the day Keenan had approached him at Le Quartier Lounge, and recalled their conversation when Keenan had asked him privately, *"What did 'they' want from her?"*

Darrel confidently knew that deep down, Keenan could not possibly be directly involved or on the same side as *'them'*, considering that Keenan had also made a threat to him that day, *"If I find out that you or 'them' are trying to harm her in any way, I will hunt you down one by one. All of you."* He warned Darrel sternly.

"So?" said Keenan impatiently. His voice was as cold as ever, almost threatening. "Are you going to keep us waiting here all night?"

Darrel sighed, sounding like a disgruntled grunt as he realized it was too late to cancel his plans, to abruptly turn around and leave the meeting as if it had never happened. Especially with the taller man standing there, blocking the door, and the possibility that 'they' already knew what he was going to do.

In his heart, Darrel began to feel that *'they'* might already know his every move behind *'their'* backs.

"Well," he muttered, his hands reaching into the inside pockets of his coat to pull out something he had prepared earlier. Darrel saw Adrian standing at attention out of the corner of his eye, ready to reach for his gun, and he shook his head quickly, raising his free hand in the air. "I'm not armed. I'm just showing your boss something he needs to see."

Keenan turned and nodded his head, then Adrian relaxed his guard. Darrel resumed his steps after feeling his heartbeat return to normal. He withdrew his hand carefully, revealing a brown envelope in his hand, which he held for a moment. He paused for a moment, seemingly hesitant to let go of the file in his hand, before finally stepping forward and handing everything to Keenan.

"What is this?" Keenan asked Darrel, pointing to the brown envelope in front of him.

Darrel continued to stare at the envelope as he handed it to Keenan. "Open it," he said, watching closely as Keenan opened the envelope and took a look at the contents.

"This is—"

"It's *'them'*," Darrel said in a somber tone, "or at least some data about *'them'* that I was able to gather in the limited time I had. I had to be careful not to let them know—"

He stopped when there was no reaction from Keenan and saw that the man was busy looking through the papers and photos that had been taken out of the envelope. There was a frown on Keenan's forehead, but otherwise there were no other signs. Darrel waited tensely, but no words came out of Keenan's mouth. So Darrel cautiously continued, "That's—maybe not all of it, but there are some that tell about *'their'* business. Some of that evidence."

This time he finally got a reaction from Keenan when the man raised his eyes to look at him. "You're already known for their business?"

"No," Darrel shook his head. "Their 'other' business. What they do underground, in the shadows. There's at least some information there."

Keenan stopped flipping through the files when he reached the last stack. His eyes scanned the text carefully without saying anything. But at one point a faint smile appeared on Keenan's lips, and at that moment Darrel finally felt relieved. The man still hadn't said anything, however Keenan continued to explain carefully, "I'll study it further when I'm in a safer place. But tell me," he looked at Darrel, "why did you give it all to me? Why did you take such a big risk?"

Darrel sighed. "I need protection," he looked at Keenan and his guards. "A guarantee or something if something happens to me. They force me to do things I always do perfectly. It's not the first time they've sent me to steal, and it's not the first time—"

He stopped. The word stuck on his tongue, his body stiff with the weight of it. *"Killing."*

"But this is the first time I won't be able to," he continued, looking away from Keenan's cold, dark gaze.

Keenan clenched his jaw to contain his anger, trying to keep his composure. "Why did you confess to me? You could have gone to the police." Darrel jumped as the threatening tone returned to his voice.

"I can't report to them. *'They'* have their agents there—at least I think they do. I don't know who I can trust." He bit his lip, making up a lie to cover the truth. But Keenan certainly didn't know that. Yes, there were many untrustworthy people in the police force, but there was one person he could talk to. One person who knew Darrel's secret. But Darrel couldn't reveal it without endangering the young detective's safety. "And I know you'll be able to protect her. If—"

*"If 'they' get to me first"*—was a sentence the man did not say, but Keenan could feel it behind the words.

Keenan closed his eyes and clenched his jaw briefly before facing Darrel with a question that filled his curiosity. "Why her?" he asked Darrel. His voice was soft, though he managed to keep his anger in check. But whoever was looking at his face could not ignore the grim expression in his eyes.

Darrel turned his face away, his jaw clenched, but he knew he couldn't avoid answering the question, especially when he saw the bodyguard standing by the door. This was the part he never wanted to talk about. All he wanted to do was hand over the files to Keenan and leave without giving away too much information, just enough to give an idea. But now he was trapped. There was nowhere to run, no way to easily avoid any of them. "That's not—" he started, then shook his head. "She wasn't the target."

"At first," Keenan snorted. "But then she became the one."

"Yes," Darrel replied briefly and grimly.

"Who was it? Who was the original target?"

Darrel turned and looked at Keenan. A flash of anger appeared in his eyes. "That's—"

****

Keenan found himself in his home office after returning to his private penthouse that night. He stood at his desk in the silence that hung over the room. The only sound was the murmur of the rain still falling outside.

His desk was covered with piles of papers, the result of a session of reading through the contents of every envelope he had brought back from his brief meeting with Darrel. He had just finished comparing every piece of data and information contained within with what he had secretly discovered on his own. But that wasn't what occupied his mind.

His fingers were exploring some of the photographs—some of Darrel's and some he had obtained in his efforts to find out why *'they'* had chosen to include her in their plans. Why *'they'* targeted her specifically.

He continued to examine each photo until his fingers stopped on one that was printed and rested on top of the others, slightly crumpled at the edges. It had been his focus since he first saw it, and he felt like he had to face it again every time he got caught up in his own reflection.

It was a spontaneous shot of her. She was in the picture with a free smile, her head tilted back, and Darrel's strong arms around her waist. Keenan remembers how angry he was when he first saw the picture, even though she seemed to glow in it, as if she had been exposed to the sun.

She always fixated on the image of the man in front of her when he pulled the photo out of his archives, just as he was doing now. But that was not supposed to be what he was focusing on right now.

*No*, he thought as he held the photo, something he had done many times before. Keenan shouldn't care who she chooses as a partner as long as she's happy and safe.

*Except for the man in this picture.*

Not when the man hugging her in the picture was also the one holding the gun with the intention of killing her.