Chapter 8 Chapter 8
The dress hugged my body in a way that made me feel exposed, vulnerable like I was wearing someone else's skin.
My hair fell in soft waves around my shoulders, professionally styled by someone at the hospital house who didn't ask questions.
My makeup was perfect. My hands were trembling.
"You look beautiful," Destiny had said before I left. She'd meant it as encouragement, but the
words felt like a curse.
I touched the small earpiece hidden beneath my hair, feeling the cold metal against my skin.
Alex was listening. Somewhere three blocks away, in a van filled with equipment I didn't
understand, He was hearing every breath I took.
The thought should have comforted me.
Instead, it made everything feel more real, more dangerous, more impossible to escape.
"Remember," Victor had told me during the final briefing, "Mr. Xiang likes conversation. He wants
to feel like you're interested in him, not just his money. Ask him about his work. Laugh at his jokes.
Make him believe you chose to be there."
But I hadn't chosen this. Not really. I'd been backed into a corner where every option led to
darkness, and this was just the path I could see most clearly.
The hotel was downtown, one of those glass towers that reflected the sky and made you feel
small.
I walked through the lobby like I belonged there, my heels clicking against marble floors
that probably cost more than my entire life.
The elevator ride to the twenty-third floor felt like descending into deep water.
My ears popped. My chest tightened. I counted my breaths the way the nurses had taught me during panic attacks at the hospital…breath-in for four, hold for four, breath-out for four.
"You're almost there," Alex's voice came through the earpiece, so quiet I almost missed it.
"Room no.2347. When you enter, plant the device in his briefcase. It's in your purse, disguised
as a compact mirror. Just place it somewhere he won't immediately notice."
I didn't respond. Couldn't respond without looking crazy, talking to myself in an elevator.
The hallway stretched endlessly in front of me—soft carpet, dim lighting and doors that all looked
the same. Hiding secrets I didn't want to imagine.
I found room no.2347 and raised my hand to knock. My knuckles hovered in the air for three heartbeats before I forced myself to make contact with the wood.The door opened immediately, like he'd been waiting for me.
Mr. Xiang was exactly what Victor had described—late fifties, expensive suit, smile that didn't
reach his eyes.
He looked at me the way you'd look at something you'd purchased, evaluating
quality and value. I felt my skin crawl, but I smiled back.
I'd learned to smile through discomfort during my five years of nursing. This was just another kind of pain management.
"Mia," he said—my fake name rolling off his tongue like he'd practiced it. "Please, come in."
The suite was big— it was the kind of space that whispers money, privacy and power.
Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the city lights spreading out like
scattered stars.
A bottle of wine sat on the table, already opened and breathing.Soft music drifted from hidden speakers—something classical that probably cost more to license than I made in a month.
"You're even more beautiful than Victor promised,"Mr. Xiang said,
"Thank you," I managed, my voice steadier than I felt. "You have a beautiful view."
"I do now," Mr Xiang said, closing the door behind me.The click of the lock sounded like a cage
sealing shut.
I wanted to vomit.
He poured wine into two glasses, talking about the hotel, the city, his business trip. I listened
and nodded and laughed at appropriate moments, all while my mind screamed at me to run. But
I couldn't run. Running meant losing the information Alex needed.
Running meant the pack hunters would find me.
Running meant everything I'd survived would be in vain.
"I work in pharmaceuticals," Mr. Xiang said, settling onto the couch and patting the space beside
him. "Genetic research, specifically. Very cutting-edge work. We're exploring treatments for rare
genetic disorders."
My blood went cold. Genetic research. Victor had mentioned Mr. Xiang was connected to
something, but I hadn't expected this. I sat down beside him, careful to maintain distance, and
tried to keep my expression neutral.
"That sounds fascinating," I said. "What kind of genetic disorders?"
His eyes lit up the way people's eyes light up when they get to talk about their passion.
"Primarily hereditary conditions that affect cellular function. We're particularly interested in cases
where the genetic markers suggest evolutionary advantages that could be... replicated."
Every word felt like a punch. He was talking about supernatural genetics. About people like me.
About the research that had probably gotten my parents killed.
"Replicated?" I asked, reaching for my purse. "How would that work?"
"It's complicated," he said, moving closer. His hand landed on my knee, and I had to fight every
instinct to break his fingers. "But the potential applications are extraordinary. Imagine being able
to give people enhanced strength—accelerated healing, improved sensory perception. We could
create a new kind of human.
"Or a new kind of monster," I said before I could stop myself.
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "That's what people said about electricity, airplane.
and every advancement that challenged their limited understanding.
Progress requires vision, Mia. It requires people willing to push boundaries."
I opened my purse, pretending to check my phone, and palmed the device Alex had given
me. It was small, black, about the size of a compact mirror. I needed to get it into Mr. Xiang's
briefcase without him noticing.
"I need to use the restroom," I said, standing up. "Where—"
"Down the hall, first door on your right," he said, his hand sliding off my knee reluctantly.
I walked toward the bathroom, but my eyes tracked his briefcase sitting on the desk near the
window. It was open, papers visible inside. I had maybe thirty seconds before he'd wonder why I
was taking so long to find the bathroom.
In the hallway, out of his direct line of sight, I made my choice.
I moved to the desk, my heels silent on the carpet. My hands moved quickly, placing the device
deep in the briefcase's inner pocket, buried beneath folders and documents. My fingers brushed
against something that felt like a syringe, and I pulled back quickly, my heart hammering.
"Everything alright?" Mr. Xiang called from the living room.
"Perfect," I called back, my voice came out tighter than I wanted."Just admiring your view."
I walked to the bathroom, closed the door, and leaned against it. My hands were shaking so
badly I had to grip the counter to rest on them.
I looked at my reflection—perfect makeup,perfect hair, perfect mask hiding absolute terror.
"Device is planted," I whispered, knowing Alex would hear. "He's talking about genetic
research,Replication and Enhancement. There was a syringe in his briefcase."
Alex's voice came through immediately. "Get out now. Give an excuse and leave."
"I can't," I whispered. "Not without raising suspicion. If I leave too early, he'll get paranoid. He'll
check the briefcase."
"Mia…"
"I can handle this,