Rain slicked the city streets in thin, glistening sheets, turning every surface into a mirror of shadows and headlights. Night had returned, heavier now, as though the world knew Emma Carter had crossed into dangerous territory.
Ryan Carter's unmarked car screeched to a halt outside her apartment building. He jumped out, gun drawn, instincts kicking in faster than thought. He took the stairs two at a time, heart pounding.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Emma stood inside her apartment, paralyzed.
The place was ransacked.
Papers scattered. Dresser drawers turned out. Picture frames shattered on the floor. Her breath came in sharp, shallow bursts as her eyes locked onto the words scrawled across her living room wall in dripping red paint:
"STOP DIGGING OR YOU'RE NEXT."
She hadn't screamed. Couldn't. The intruder had vanished before she made it through the front door—an empty chill lingered behind like a ghost.
She didn't even hear Ryan enter until he called her name.
"Emma."
She spun around. Her eyes met his, wide with shock and fury.
"You're late," she snapped, voice shaky but sharp.
Ryan scanned the room quickly, weapon still drawn. "What happened?"
"He was here," she said, her voice catching. "He waited for me. Told me to stop... or next time, I won't be so lucky."
Ryan swore under his breath and moved to the door. "No security cameras outside. Whoever did this knew what they were doing."
Emma sank onto the couch. She stared blankly at the mess around her—what was once her sanctuary, now a crime scene.
"They're not just threatening me anymore," she whispered. "They were in my home."
Ryan kneeled in front of her, his expression softening. "Listen to me. They want to scare you into quitting. That means we're close to something. Too close."
Emma met his eyes, searching them for strength she could borrow.
"I don't know if I can do this, Ryan," she said. Her voice was no longer the voice of the courtroom warrior—it was the voice of a woman who had lost everything and was still bleeding.
"Yes, you can," he said, gently but firmly. "You're not doing this alone. I won't let them touch you again."
Emma nodded slowly, her fists clenching.
"Then we need to hit them harder."
Ryan's eyes glinted with the same resolve.
"Then let's find out what Salazar's hiding—before they come back."
The storm was no longer outside.
It was here, inside their war room.
And they were ready to fight.