Chapter 112 One piece at a time

Chapter 112 One piece at a time
Seraphina’s POV:

The villa had become a command center, a hive of low, urgent energy. For two days, the five of us had been living on caffeine and adrenaline, our worlds narrowed to screens and maps. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and the silent, simmering rage that had become our constant companion. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that box, that finger, that emerald ring. Roxie. Her name was a prayer and a curse on my lips, a constant, gnawing reminder of the price of my past.

Zero, Cassain, and Soren were a whirlwind of strategic planning and old-world connections, digging through the digital and physical underworld for any trace of Richard. Malakai had become our fortress, overseeing the upgrade of our security, his presence a looming, comforting shadow at every window and door. And me… I was trying to hold it all together, to be the general they needed me to be, but every creak of the floorboards, every unexpected chime of a phone, sent a jolt of pure, animal fear through my system.

I was staring at a satellite map of Eastern Europe, my eyes blurring, when my phone buzzed on the desk. The screen lit up with a name I hadn't seen in weeks, a name I had completely forgotten about in the chaos.

Nico.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I had completely forgotten. In the frantic hours after identifying Richard, before the full weight of his return had crushed me, I had made a call. I had reached out to my old contact, a tech wizard who owed me more favors than I could count, and asked him to dig into the Shark. I had asked him to look for shell companies, for money trails, for anything that could lead me to the man who was hunting me. And in the days that followed, in the storm of planning with Zero and the guys, that call had been pushed to the back of my mind, a forgotten ember in the fire.

I snatched the phone, my fingers fumbling as I swiped it open. The message was short, a single line of text that made my breath catch.

Got something. Call me.

I was on my feet in an instant, my body moving on pure instinct. I scanned the room, my eyes landing on Cassain, who was hunched over his laptop, his face illuminated by the glow of the screen, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Cassain," I said, my voice tight with urgency.

He looked up, his green eyes instantly alert. "What is it?"

I didn't say anything. I just jerked my head toward the hallway, and he followed me out of the room, his hand resting on the small of my back, a silent, reassuring presence.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low.
I held up my phone, showing him the message from Nico. "I forgot," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "With everything that happened, with Richard… I completely forgot I asked for help."

I quickly explained the call I had made to Nico, the old friend who operated in the digital shadows, the one I had trusted to find the Shark when he was still just a name, a faceless monster with a bounty on my head.

"I didn't think he'd find anything so fast," I said, my hands trembling slightly. "I thought it would take weeks, months actually."

Cassain took my phone, his eyes scanning the message, his expression unreadable. "Nico," he said, his voice a low, thoughtful murmur. "I've heard of him. He's good. The best. If he found something, it's big."

I nodded, my heart pounding with a renewed sense of hope. "I know."

I quickly dialed the number, and Nico picked up on the first ring. His voice was the same, a low, gravelly rasp, like he'd been gargling with gravel and whiskey.

"Took you long enough to call me back, Fallen," he said, his voice a dry, sarcastic drawl. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."

"I didn't forget, Nico," I said, my voice a low, urgent murmur. "I've been… busy."

"So I hear," he said, his voice a low, thoughtful rumble. "The Shark. He's making a lot of noise. But I think I found his leash."

My heart skipped a beat. "What did you find?"

"Shell companies," he said, his voice a low, serious promise. "A lot of them. He's been using them to funnel money, to buy weapons, to pay off officials. It's a complex network, but I managed to unravel it. And I found a few addresses. A few places he might be hiding."

He sent me a file, a encrypted document that I forwarded to Cassain's laptop. As it downloaded, I put the phone on speaker.

"I also found something else," Nico said, his voice a low, serious promise. "A name. A name that keeps popping up in connection with these companies. A name that might be his real identity." I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Who?" I asked, my voice a low, urgent whisper.

"His name is Richard," Nico said, his voice a low, serious promise. "Richard Ashford. And he's not just some random thug. He's former military, special ops. A ghost. A man who was supposed to have died ten years ago."

The confirmation was a punch to the gut, a cold, hard truth that settled in my bones. It was him. It was really him.

"Anything else?" Cassain asked, his voice a low, steady growl.

"Just one more thing," Nico said, his voice a low, serious promise. "He has a weakness. A daughter. A daughter he lost a long time ago. A daughter he's been looking for."

The line went dead, and I stood there, my phone clutched in my hand, my mind reeling. He was looking for a daughter. A daughter he lost. Was it possible? Was he looking for me?

I looked at Cassain, my eyes wide with a mix of terror and a strange, flickering hope. "He's looking for me," I whispered. "He's not just trying to kill me. He's trying to find me."

Cassain's expression was grim, his eyes narrowed. "Or he's trying to lure you out," he said, his voice a low, serious promise. "Using a daughter you don't even have as bait."

"But what if it's true?" I asked, my voice a low, urgent whisper. "What if he's not just a monster? What if he's a father who lost his daughter and is trying to find her?"

Cassain looked at me, his eyes softening slightly. "We don't know that, Seraphina," he said, his voice a low, serious promise. "And we can't afford to make assumptions. But we do know one thing. We have a lead. We have addresses. We have a name. We have something to go on."

He looked at the file on his laptop, his eyes scanning the information, his mind already working, already formulating a plan. "We're not just hunting a ghost anymore," he said, his voice a low, serious promise. "We're hunting a man. And men can be killed."