Chapter 22: The Password

Selena's POV

The phone slipped from my shaking hands and crashed to the floor.

Kill her tonight.

David's phone screen cracked, but those four words burned into my brain. The man I loved. The man who saved my life. The man who was supposed to protect me.

He wanted me dead.

"Selena, we need to get you out of here," Mom said. Her voice sounded far away, like she was talking through water.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

"Sweetheart?" Dad touched my shoulder.

"Don't!" I jerked away. "Don't touch me!"

My whole world was falling apart. Again. First Mom died. Then she came back to life. Then David was my enemy. Now he was my lover. Now he wanted to kill me.

Nothing made sense anymore.

"We have to go," Dad said. "Morrison might come back."

"Where?" I asked. "Where can we go? Everyone I trust wants me dead!"

Mom knelt beside me. "There's one place Morrison doesn't know about. My old safe house."

"You have a safe house?"

"I've been hiding there for three years. Planning my mission."

I looked at her face. Really looked. She had new scars. Lines around her eyes that weren't there before. My mom had suffered too.

"What mission, Mom?"

"Finding proof that Morrison killed Senator Williams. And proving your father is innocent."

Dad helped me stand up. "We'll explain everything once we're safe."

David groaned on the floor. The dart was wearing off.

"What about him?" I asked.

"Leave him," Mom said. "He's not our problem anymore."

But as we reached the door, David's eyes opened.

"Selena," he whispered.

I stopped. I knew I shouldn't. But his voice sounded so weak. So hurt.

"Don't listen to him," Mom warned.

David tried to sit up but fell back down. "The messages... not what they look like."

"Save it," I said. But my voice cracked.

"Please. I can explain."

"You can explain to Morrison when he finds you."

We left him there in the panic room. Alone. Bleeding. Betrayed.

Just like he betrayed me.

Mom's safe house was an old apartment above a pizza shop. The smell of cheese and tomatoes filled the air. It should have been comforting. Instead, it made me sick.

"Sit," Mom said. She handed me a bottle of water.

I sat on a dusty couch. Everything felt like a dream. A nightmare.

"How long have you been alive?" I asked.

"Three years. Since the night Morrison faked my death."

"But I saw you get shot!"

"Blank bullets. Morrison's men used fake blood. Very convincing."

Dad paced around the small room. "Maria, tell her the rest."

Mom sat across from me. "Morrison offered me a deal. Help him frame your father for the senator's murder, and he'd fake my death. Give me a new identity. Let me disappear."

"Why would you want to disappear?"

"Because I found something. Something that could destroy Morrison's whole operation."

"What?"

"Evidence that Morrison killed Senator Williams. And twelve other politicians over the past five years."

My head was spinning. "So why didn't you just give the evidence to the police?"

"Because Morrison owns half the police force. Including Detective Vance."

The name hit me like a slap. Vance. The cop who always seemed to be around when bad things happened.

"Vance works for Morrison?"

"For twenty years," Dad said. "Morrison pays him to cover up murders and plant fake evidence."

"Like framing you for the senator's death."

"Exactly."

I stood up and walked to the window. The street below looked normal. People buying pizza. Kids playing. Life going on like the world wasn't falling apart.

"Mom, if you had evidence, why didn't you use it?"

"I tried. But Morrison found out. He threatened to kill you if I exposed him."

"So you faked your death instead."

"It was the only way to protect you while I figured out how to stop him."

I turned around. "But Morrison still tried to kill me. Tonight."

Mom's face went pale. "Because I made a mistake. I trusted the wrong person."

"David."

"I thought he was on our side. I thought he really cared about you."

The words hurt. Because part of me still believed David cared. Even after seeing those messages. Even after everything.

"Mom, where's this evidence you found?"

She pointed to an old computer in the corner. "Encrypted files. On my laptop."

"Why haven't you opened them?"

"I can't remember the password. It's been three years."

I walked over to the computer. It was covered in dust. "What kind of password would you use?"

"I don't know. Something important. Something I'd never forget."

I turned on the laptop. The screen flickered to life. A password box appeared.

"Try your birthday," Dad suggested.

I typed in the numbers. Wrong password.

"Try my birthday."

Wrong again.

"Try the day we got married."

Wrong.

I sat back in the chair. Think, Selena. What would Mom never forget?

Then it hit me.

"Mom, what was the last thing you said to me? The night you supposedly died?"

She thought for a moment. "I said... 'Remember, sweetheart. No matter what happens, you are stronger than you know.'"

I typed: strongerthanyouknow

The computer unlocked.

"That's it!" Mom rushed over.

Files filled the screen. Hundreds of them. Photos. Documents. Audio recordings.

I opened the first photo. Morrison shaking hands with Detective Vance. Money changing hands.

The second photo showed Morrison leaving Senator Williams' house. The timestamp was thirty minutes before the senator's death.

"This is incredible," I whispered.

"Keep going," Dad said.

I opened an audio file. Morrison's voice filled the room:

"The senator needs to die tonight. Make it look like a robbery. And make sure Enzo Rossi's fingerprints are on the gun."

"How did you get this?" I asked.

"I was investigating Morrison for months before he caught me. I bugged his office."

I opened another file. A list of names. Politicians, judges, police chiefs. All marked as "eliminated" or "controlled."

"He's been killing people for years," I said.

"Twenty-three murders," Mom confirmed. "All made to look like accidents or robberies."

I kept scrolling through the files. Then I found something that made my blood freeze.

A folder labeled "David Chen - Asset Files."

David's real name. And everything about him.

Birth certificate. School records. Medical records. Including his cancer diagnosis.

But there was more. Training records. Mission reports. Payment schedules.

Going back fifteen years.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

"What is it?" Dad asked.

I opened David's mission file. The first entry was dated fifteen years ago:

Subject: David Chen, age 17. Recruited after killing rival gang member. Psychological profile indicates strong loyalty triggers and guilt manipulation potential. Ideal candidate for long-term deep cover operations.

My hands shook as I read more:

David Chen successfully completed basic training. Assigned codename 'Rook.' First mission: Infiltrate Rossi crime family. Estimated timeline: 10-15 years.

"This can't be real," I said.

But there was more. Much more.

Mission Update Year 3: Rook has gained Enzo Rossi's complete trust. Recommend advancement to next phase.

Mission Update Year 7: Rook now serves as Rossi's primary enforcer. Perfect position for intelligence gathering.

Mission Update Year 12: New objective assigned. Rook to develop romantic relationship with Selena Rossi when she reaches appropriate age.

I felt sick.

Mission Update Year 15: Romantic phase successful. Subject shows strong emotional attachment to Rook. Recommend immediate termination phase.

The last entry was dated yesterday:

Final Mission: Rook to eliminate Selena Rossi and Maria Rossi. Cover to be maintained until both targets are eliminated. Payment: $5 million upon completion.

The room spun around me. Everything I knew was a lie.

David never quit working for Morrison. He never worked for Dad. He had been Morrison's spy from the very beginning.

For fifteen years.

Our whole relationship. Every kiss. Every moment of tenderness. Every time he saved my life.

All fake.

All part of his mission.

"Selena?" Mom's voice sounded far away.

I couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe.

Then I saw the final file. A video labeled "Rook Training - Final Test."

I clicked play.

The screen showed a young David. Maybe nineteen years old. He was in what looked like a warehouse.

Morrison's voice came from off-camera: "Your final test, Rook. Kill the target."

A door opened. A woman was pushed into the room. She was crying. Begging.

"Please," she said. "I have children."

Young David raised his gun. His hand was shaking.

"I can't," he said.

"You can and you will," Morrison replied. "Or your mother dies."

On the video, David closed his eyes. Pulled the trigger.

The woman fell.

But then the camera angle changed. I could see David's face clearly.

He was crying.

And in his other hand, hidden behind his back, was a second gun. Pointed at Morrison.

The video cut to black.

A message appeared on screen: "Test failed. Subject shows excessive emotional attachment. Recommend psychological conditioning."

Below that: "Addendum: Subject's mother died of natural causes two hours before this test. Subject unaware. Leverage removed. Increase conditioning protocols."

I stared at the screen. David's mother was already dead when Morrison threatened her. But David didn't know.

He killed that woman for nothing.

Just like Morrison made me believe David betrayed me for nothing.

My phone rang. Unknown number.

I answered without thinking.

"Hello, Selena." Morrison's voice.

"How did you get this number?"

"I have my ways. Did you enjoy the show at your father's house?"

"What do you want?"

"I want to make a deal."

"No deals."

"Even if it means saving David's life?"

My heart stopped. "What?"

"Poor David. All alone in that panic room. Slowly bleeding to death from his wounds."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Check the security cameras. I'll wait."

Mom was already pulling up the house cameras on her phone. The screen showed the panic room.

David was unconscious on the floor. Blood was spreading beneath him.

"The dart I used on him was poisoned," Morrison said. "He has maybe two hours to live without the antidote."

"What do you want?" I asked again.

"Simple. You bring me the evidence your mother found. All of it. And I'll give you the antidote."

"And if I don't?"

"David dies. Then I kill your parents. Then I kill you. In that order."

The line went dead.

I looked at Mom and Dad. They were staring at me.

"We can't trust him," Dad said.

"He'll kill David," I replied.

"David was going to kill you!"

"But what if he wasn't? What if Morrison lied about everything?"

I thought about the video. David crying. David trying to point a gun at Morrison.

What if David had been trying to protect me all along? What if he was just as much a victim as I was?

What if I had left the man I loved to die?

My phone buzzed. A text message from Morrison:

One hour. Come alone. Or watch him die.

Below that was an address. The old shipping warehouse where this all started.

"I have to go," I said.

"Absolutely not," Mom said. "It's a trap."

"Maybe. But I can't let David die."

"Even after what he did to you?"

I looked at the computer screen. At fifteen years of files. At a scared teenager forced to kill innocent people.

At a man who might have been trying to save me this whole time.

"Especially because of what was done to him."

I grabbed the laptop and headed for the door.

"Selena, wait!"

But I was already running down the stairs. Racing against time.

Racing to save the man who might be my greatest enemy.

Or my only hope.

Behind me, I heard Mom's voice:

"She's walking into Morrison's trap."

And Dad's reply:

"No. She's walking into ours."

What did that mean?

But there was no time to ask. David was dying.

And I was the only one who could save him.

Even if it killed me.