Chapter 77 A step ahead

Chapter 77 A step ahead
Steven’s POV

The water hit my back in steady streams, warm enough to sting slightly where my skin was still tender. I stood there longer than necessary, eyes closed, forehead resting against the tile, letting the sound drown out my thoughts even though it never really worked.

Time did not dull what had happened. It sharpened it.

Twenty four hours ago, someone had tried to erase me from the world like I was a mistake on paper. And when the phone rang afterward, when that calm feminine voice asked if it was done, I had felt something colder than fear settle in my chest.

I had not answered her.

I listened, I breathed deeply, and then I ended the call.

The silence afterward had been worse than any threat.

I shut off the water and stepped out, the room fogged and quiet. My reflection looked unfamiliar. The stitches at my hairline were clean, but the bruises beneath my eyes had darkened. Pain was there if I went looking for it, but it was not what unsettled me.

What unsettled me was waiting.

I had canceled everything for the day. No meetings. No calls. No movement. Just the slow crawl of minutes and the weight of not knowing who was on the other end of that line.

I paced the room, phone in hand, checking it again even though I already knew there was nothing new. 

I had called Ives immediately after the call ended and asked him to track the number. Ives did not ask unnecessary questions. He never did.

He had promised to call the moment he had something. He always did what he said he would.

That trust was the only thing keeping me from tearing the place apart.

When my phone finally rang, I answered before the second vibration.

“Ives.”

“I got it,” he said.

I stopped pacing. “You tracked the number.”

“Yes,” he replied. “It was encrypted. Not sloppy. Whoever owns it knows what they are doing.”

A tight breath left my chest. “But you got through.”

“I did,” he confirmed. “Barely.”

I leaned against the desk, fingers curling around the edge. “Where are they?”

“There is a problem,” he said carefully.

I closed my eyes. “Explain.”

“The moment I push deeper, they will know someone is tracking them,” Ives said. “We are talking about minutes. Once the alert trips, they disappear.”

“So what are you doing right now?” I asked.

“I am already moving,” he said. “I am on my way to the location.”

“I am coming,” I said immediately.

“That might slow this down,” he warned. “Traffic alone could—”

“I am not staying here,” I cut in. “Send me the location.”

There was a brief pause. Then my screen lit up with a shared GPS route.

“Follow me,” he said. “If this works, it has to work now.”

The drive felt longer than it should have. Every red light felt personal. Every slow turn scraped at my nerves. My eyes kept darting between the road and the small moving dot on the map ahead of me, marking Ives’ progress.

“I can’t wait to know who is behind this,” I muttered.

My phone rang again, pulling me out of my thoughts. This time it was an unknown number. My chest tightened, but I ignored it. When it rang again moments later, a different name flashed across the screen.

Police.

I answered with a sharp breath. “Steven here.”

“Mr. Wade,” the officer said. “This is a routine update regarding the suspect from yesterday.”

“Go on,” I said, already impatient.

“He regained consciousness briefly,” the officer explained. “Still refusing to speak. No identification. We are running prints.”

“Anything useful?” I asked.

“Nothing for now,” he added. “We are still looking into that.”

I swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

I ended the call and returned my focus to the road. The GPS dot ahead slowed, then stopped entirely.

My heart kicked hard against my ribs.

“Ives,” I said aloud.

I called him, but his phone wasn’t connecting.

I tried again and still nothing.

Then the dot vanished.

“What the hell,” I whispered.

The neighborhood I drove into was quiet in an unsettling way. Older buildings pressed close together. Streets narrow enough to trap sound. My instincts screamed the moment I entered it.

Then I saw a car parked strangely outside one of the buildings, angled as if it had been abandoned mid thought. The driver’s door was not fully shut.

I pulled over and stepped out, scanning the area.

“Ives,” I called under my breath.

A shape moved near the entrance.

“Do not use your phone,” Ives said quietly as he stepped into view. “There are signal alarms everywhere.”

Relief hit me first, sharp and brief, followed quickly by tension.

“That is why you disappeared,” I said.

He nodded. “This place is layered with sensors. Motion, frequency, everything. Whoever owns it does not want to be found.”

“Then why leave a trail?” I asked.

“Because they wanted to see who followed it,” he replied.

Before I could respond, my phone rang in my pocket and a loud blaring sound rang out in the building.

Ives’ expression changed instantly. “Fuck! That call just triggered the alarm.”

I did not hesitate. “Then we should move.”

We rushed inside, footsteps echoing through the narrow hallway. The air felt charged, like something had just slipped through our fingers. Ives led the way to a room at the back and shoved the door open.

It was empty.

No one was inside. Just a laptop sitting open on a desk, the screen glowing softly.

We approached cautiously.

White text stared back at us. ‘You are late.’

My stomach dropped almost instantly.

“They knew we were coming,” I said quietly.

Ives nodded, jaw tight. “They knew before we confirmed anything. They must have been expecting our arrival.”

Another line appeared beneath it. ‘Always a step behind.’

Then the screen went completely blank.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence felt heavy, mocking. We were obviously being mocked!

I dragged a hand through my hair, anger finally breaking free. “They set this whole thing up and we foolishly took the bait.”

“Yes,” Ives said. “The encryption was a warning system. The moment I touched it, they already knew.”

“So this was never about catching them,” I said bitterly. “It was about letting us know they see us and know our every move.”

“They wanted us to see that message,” he replied. “They wanted us to be frustrated.”

I stared at the dead screen, pulse pounding. Whoever this was, they are one step ahead of us. They are not hiding.

They are playing an annoying game. Getting on my nerves!

“There is nothing else we can do,” Ives said quietly. “Not right now.”

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe. I hated that he was right.

Somewhere out there, someone had ordered my death, listened calmly to the aftermath, and walked away knowing they were already ahead.

And all we could do was wonder who it was.