110

110
The quiet hum of the evening air conditioner was the only sound in the dim maid’s quarters as Carolina sat on the edge of her narrow bed, phone in hand, staring at Devon’s contact for what felt like an eternity. Her finger hovered over the call button. Then she pressed it. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

“Carolina?” Devon’s voice filled her ear, deep and warm, but tinged with concern. “Hey, is everything okay? I’ve been trying to reach you. You—”

“Devon, I need to tell you something,” she cut in, her voice trembling just slightly. “Please, just listen. And… promise you won’t be angry.”

There was a short pause. “Talk to me.”

She exhaled shakily and launched into it, the retreat, the suspicions, Katherine’s belief that the man in the mansion wasn’t Kingsley. The idea is to get hired as a maid. Everything she’d seen. The locked chest. The two passports. The unfamiliar Kingsley called Beth ma’am. She told it all.

When she finished, the line went quiet. Too quiet.

“Devon..?” she asked hesitantly.

His voice came low, tight with restrained panic. “Are you out of your mind, Carolina? You’re living in that house? With them? If Katherine is right, if they replaced Kingsley, that place isn’t just suspicious, it’s dangerous. You’re risking your life.”

“I know,” she said gently. “I know how insane it sounds. But I’m okay. I swear. I’ve been careful. They don’t suspect anything. And I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing, Devon. He could be in danger… or worse.”

Devory let out a sharp sigh, clearly trying to calm himself. “You should have told me. I could’ve… God, I don’t know, done something. Protected you.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to pull you into this unless I was sure. But now… now I need your help. We need to hack Beth’s phone. Katherine thinks the clues to where Kingsley is, the real Kingsley, might be there.”

There was silence again. Then, finally, Devon’s voice came through, low and decisive. “Okay. I’ll get you someone. Someone very good. The best. No trace, no trail. You’ll have what you need to get in. Just… promise me you’ll be careful, Carolina. I can’t—” His voice faltered slightly. “I can’t lose you.”

Her eyes softened. “You won’t. I promise.”

“You’re brave,” he said after a beat. “Reckless, but brave. And if you ever need to get out of there fast, you call me. No questions. I’ll come for you myself.”

She smiled softly into the phone, heart warmed despite the fear gnawing at her. “Thank you, Devon. For trusting me. For helping.”

“I’ll be in touch soon. And Carolina, don’t trust anyone else in that house.”

“I won’t.”

They ended the call, and Carolina sat still for a moment, the phone cradled against her chest. The game had changed. Now they weren’t just hoping for answers. They were hunting them down.

The following day came, and Carolina continued working, making sure to avoid suspicion. The sun filtered through the tall windows lining the corridor, casting golden slats across the floor. Carolina was wiping down the glass of a French door that overlooked the manicured rose garden when her phone vibrated in her apron pocket. Unknown number. Her heart skipped. She glanced around. No one. With a flick of her wrist, she answered, pressing the phone discreetly to her ear as she leaned over the rail, pretending to dust.

“Hello?” she said softly.

A calm, male voice came through, precise and professional. “Hi. Is this Carolina?”

“Yes,” she said, tone cautious.

“I’m the contact Devon mentioned. He said you needed help… accessing someone’s phone.”

Carolina’s throat tightened slightly. “I need to know what’s in someone’s phone. Messages, photos, maybe location history. Anything that can help us find a friend.”

“I can set up a backdoor access,” the man said with zero hesitation. “I’ll need you to get the phone in your possession for about five minutes. Plug in a tool I’ll deliver. Then it’ll auto-sync to a private server I control. From there, I’ll extract what you need. No trace.”

Carolina pressed her back against the wall, turning slightly to peek through the window as if Beth might be watching. “I’m not sure I can get her phone for five minutes… she carries it around like it’s glued to her hand. But I’ll look for a way. When are you sending the tool?”

“Tonight,” he said. “Devon’s arranging a package drop near the staff entrance. You’ll know it’s mine, a plain gray pouch, tied shut with a thin yellow cord. That’s your cue. Discreet. Small enough to hide in your apron.”

Carolina nodded silently, fingers gripping her phone tighter.

“Remember,” he continued, “any time you’re able to take the phone and plug in the tool, make sure you leave it in for five full minutes. All the info will transfer to my system from there, I’ll take it.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “And if something goes wrong?”

There was a pause. Then: “Just don’t get caught. You’re not the first to walk into a lion’s den. But most don’t make it back out.”

The line went dead again.

Carolina slowly pulled the phone from her ear and slipped it back into her apron, staring out into the bright garden.

Back in Brooklyn, the lights were dim in the apartment, just the warm glow of a single lamp casting shadows against the wall. The hum of the city beyond the window buzzed faintly, traffic, life, but it all felt far away. Distant. Katherine sat curled up on the corner of her couch, wrapped in a faded navy throw blanket that still smelled faintly of the cedarwood candle Kingsley once bought her. Her cup of tea had long since gone cold, untouched. In her hands, she clutched a framed photo, a picture of her and Kingsley at Vaherra Island, laughing so hard the camera had blurred their faces. It was one of the rare days when life had felt simple.

Her eyes misted. Where are you, Kingsley? Are you even still alive? She pressed the photo gently to her chest and closed her eyes. A thousand thoughts flooded her, the last real moment they shared at the retreat, how alive he’d looked that night when he asked her to be his girlfriend, that sparkle in his eyes when they danced at the beach in Vaherra Island.

It hadn’t been a game to him. None of it was. He’d been trying… trying to break free of a life built on obligation and lies. Trying to come back to her. And then he disappeared.

Katherine opened her eyes slowly, her jaw tightening as she stared out the window toward the Manhattan skyline. “Why, Beth?” she whispered aloud. “Why would you go this far?”

She stood up and began pacing, running a hand through her hair as her heart pounded faster. She remembered the look on Kingsley’s face that day he told her the truth about Beth. How hard it had been for him to admit everything.

Beth had planned the vow renewal announcement without telling him. She’d orchestrated the live video herself, blindsiding him. And the child… their child, Katherine clenched her fists. He had told her in a broken voice that Beth had aborted the baby without ever telling him until it was done.

She hadn’t believed him then. Not completely. It had sounded so… cruel. Too twisted. Too extreme. But now? Now that Beth had replaced him? Now that someone else was walking around wearing Kingsley’s face and using his name?

Katherine turned and gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, trying to calm her shaking breath. If Beth could fake a marriage, a pregnancy, a love story… what else could she do?

“Where did you keep him?” Katherine whispered. “What have you done?”

She closed her eyes, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

She had always known Beth was dangerous in that quiet, cold way. But never, not even in her worst nightmares did she imagine she would become this. A thief of identity. A threat to a man’s life. And all for what? To protect her name? Her social status? Her image?

Katherine opened her eyes again, hard now. Determined. “We’re going to find you, Kingsley. No matter what it takes.”

Back in Manhattan, the wind carried a restless chill, brushing against the back of Carolina’s neck as she stepped quietly out of the staff entrance. She kept her hoodie up, blending into the shadows between the service corridor and the narrow alley just outside the estate wall. It was nearly midnight. The mansion behind her was dark and still, most of the staff either asleep or winding down in their private quarters. Only the hum of distant city life reminded her that she wasn’t completely alone in the world.

She checked her phone. No new messages. But the last text from Devon still glowed on the screen: “Package will be there by midnight. Same spot we discussed. Look for a plain gray pouch with a yellow cord.”

Carolina moved forward slowly, glancing left and right. The drop spot was behind the hedge, beneath the old stone bench near the garbage bins. She crouched, brushing aside a cluster of damp leaves and overgrown grass. And there it was. A plain gray pouch, tied shut with a thin yellow cord, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. She picked it up and quickly unzipped it.

Inside was a sleek black USB-like device with a tiny blue light at the end and a folded note. She opened the note. “This is the only copy. Insert it into the target phone and leave it in for 5 minutes. The light will turn green when the sync is complete. Don’t remove it early. Stay calm. Be invisible.” — D.

Carolina swallowed hard. She tucked the tool back into the pouch and zipped it up, her heart thudding against her ribs. She stood up and glanced back toward the mansion. Beth’s phone. That was the target. She’d have to figure out how to get it, how to borrow it just long enough to slip this tool in without being noticed. And she’d only get one shot.

As she crept back into the staff corridor and quietly shut the service door behind her, she whispered to herself, “For Kingsley… we’re getting you out.”