Chapter 120 Chapter 120
Liana's Pov
The air had that sharp cold bite that turns every breath into a small cloud. The minute the heavy oak doors creaked shut behind us, the outside world swallowed me up. It started as a low hum, the kind you hear in a restless crowd. But within seconds, it rose into a wall of sounds…. reporters shouting over one another, camera shutters clicking in rapid bursts, flashes strobing so fast I felt like I’d stepped into a lightning storm.
“Miss Davids! Is it true you are holding back evidence?”
“Is this adjournment just a tactic to stall?”
“What is on the laptop?”
Microphones were pushed toward me like spears, their black foam tips crowding my vision. One of them nearly clipped my cheek. Before I could move back, Stanley’s arm went around me, firm, protective, and guiding me toward the waiting car. His body blocked mine completely, his broad shoulder taking the brunt of the jostling.
His other hand came up, palm flat against a microphone shaft, pushing it gently but unmistakably back. “Give her space,” he said, his tone like a warning wrapped in politeness.
Our barrister slipped into place beside us, his perfectly calm voice slicing through the chaos. “No comment at this stage. We are pursuing crucial evidence that could prove decisive to our case. That is all we have to say at this time.”
But it was like talking to the ocean, the sound didn’t stop, it only shifted. Shouts overlapped and rhe questions blurred together. The camera flashes painted the world in white and Stanley’s grip tightened. I could feel the muscle in his forearm flex against my side. He angled his body so I was shielded, guiding me toward the open car door with a precision that felt almost rehearsed.
The moment I slid into the seat, the chaos dulled and the sound was reduced by the closed door, but the aftertaste of adrenaline still burned in my mouth.
Through the tinted glass, I spotted Dominic across the steps. He was not trying to leave. Of course not. He was thriving here. Leaning against the stone railing like he owned the building, speaking to a blonde reporter who hung on his every word. His hands were buried casually in his pockets, his lips curved in that smug half-smile I’d learned to hate.
He said something, and she laughed, head tilting and pen hovering over her notepad. I could not hear his voice, but I knew exactly what he was doing. He was spinning this adjournment, turning it into a story about my weakness. About my failure.
My jaw tightened. The door shut on that view, and the car rolled forward. But the image of him relaxed, smirking and charming the lady stayed with me.
The drive was quiet and the air was heavy with unsaid things. I kept my gaze on the window, but very often I caught Stanley’s reflection in the glass. His eyes flicked toward me, then back to the road, his expression unreadable. My mind dragged me back to last night, the heat of his breath against my skin, the pressure of his hand at the back of my neck and the way my pulse had tripped over itself when his lips brushed mine.
But this morning, none of that was in his face. His expression was straight and focused, his jaw tight, and his voice clipped when he finally spoke.
“We’ll go straight to the safe house,” he said. “See if Serena remembers anything else. If not, we start with the forensics option.”
“Right,” I answered, but the word came out sharper than I’d intended, a shard slipping between us like glass.
He glanced over, just for a moment. “Is something wrong?”
Yes. Yes, something was wrong. Last night was something I wanted to talk about, to untangle, but he was acting like it didn’t happen. The memory of it sat heavy in my chest, a knot I couldn’t loosen. Well, I wasn’t going to say that out loud.
“Nothing,” I said finally, shifting my focus back to the blur of the city sliding past my window, letting the hum of the engine fill the space where his words should have been.
When we reached the safe house, the silence followed us inside. Serena was curled on the sofa in leggings and an oversized hoodie, the sleeves pulled down over her hands. Her hair was knotted on top of her head, strands escaping to frame her tired face.
She sat up the moment we walked in. “Well?”
I hesitated. “We got a week. That’s all.”
Her shoulders dropped, and for a second I thought she might actually cry. Instead, she gave a half hearted shrug. “Better than nothing.” Her fingers pulled the string of her hoodie like she was trying to u pull it out. “I’ve been thinking about the password all night. I swear it’s right there…” she tapped the side of her head “but I can’t grab it.”
Stanley was already pulling out his phone. “I’m calling Nolan.”
Serena frowned and I gave him a questioning gaze. “Who’s Nolan?”
“He is a digital forensics guy,” he said. “If anyone can crack that laptop without wiping it, it’s him. But it’ll take days. Maybe the full week.”
“And if he can’t?” I asked.
The silence that followed was its own answer.
Stanley’s jaw became stiff as his thumb hovered over his phone. “Then we’re back to square one,” he said quietly. “And square one means we run out of time… and options.”
Serena glanced between us, her voice dropping to a whisper. “We can’t afford to fail.”
The weight of her words settled in my chest, heavy and suffocating. I knew she was right. One wrong move and the trail we were chasing would go cold for good, and Dominic would vanish into the shadows, untouchable, just like he always had.
It wasn’t just pressure, it was a ticking clock that felt louder with every breath I took.