Chapter 5: Marcus Monroe

For six years, Marcus Monroe had existed only as a name.

A face in photographs.

A shadow hiding behind stolen money and buried secrets.

Now he stood twenty feet away.

Smiling.

The sight made my blood run cold.

'Well,' Marcus said calmly, 'this reunion took longer than expected.'

Rain fell steadily around him.

The tunnel entrance behind his men glowed beneath the headlights of several vehicles.

There were at least eight armed guards.

Maybe more.

'You should've stayed out of this, Adrian.'

Adrian's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

'You should've stayed in prison.'

Marcus laughed.

'Hard to stay somewhere you've never been.'

The confidence in his voice was infuriating.

Like a man who had spent years escaping consequences.

'Give me the drive,' Marcus continued.

'No.'

'Then this becomes unpleasant.'

I glanced toward Adrian.

His expression remained calm.

Too calm.

The same dangerous calm I had seen earlier.

'Any brilliant ideas?' I whispered.

'One.'

'Should I be worried?'

'Probably.'

That wasn't reassuring.

Marcus stepped forward.

'Last chance.'

Instead of answering, Adrian slammed the SUV into reverse.

'Adrian!'

'Trust me.'

'Historically, that hasn't worked out great.'

The vehicle shot backward down the tunnel.

Gunfire erupted instantly.

Bullets struck concrete.

Glass shattered.

The rear window exploded.

I screamed and ducked.

'Still trust me?' Adrian asked.

'Ask again when we're alive!'

The SUV raced through the underground passage.

Behind us, headlights followed.

Marcus's men.

The chase had begun.

The tunnel twisted sharply beneath the mountain.

Adrian drove with terrifying precision.

One hand on the wheel.

The other holding the teddy bear.

'You're still carrying that thing!'

'It's evidence.'

'It's cursed.'

For the first time all night, he almost smiled.

'Fair assessment.'

The tunnel eventually split into two paths.

'Left or right?' I asked.

'Left.'

'Why?'

'Because the right tunnel collapsed five years ago.'

'How do you know that?'

'Because I own this place.'

'Again with the safe-house logic.'

We took the left tunnel.

Behind us, two pursuing vehicles followed.

The third mistakenly chose the right path.

Seconds later, a loud crash echoed through the mountain.

'Guess you were right.'

'I usually am.'

'Don't get used to hearing that.'

The tunnel suddenly opened into a hidden road behind the mountain.

Rain lashed the windshield.

Lightning illuminated the forest.

For a moment, I thought we'd escaped.

Then a helicopter appeared overhead.

'You've got to be kidding me.'

The spotlight locked onto us immediately.

'Marcus really wants that drive,' I said.

'Because it can destroy him.'

'Can it actually?'

'Completely.'

The answer came without hesitation.

That scared me more than the helicopter.

Because men like Marcus didn't lose quietly.

Twenty minutes later, Adrian guided the SUV onto a remote highway.

The helicopter remained behind us.

Watching.

Waiting.

'We can't keep running forever,' I said.

'I know.'

'Then what's the plan?'

Adrian reached into his pocket.

The flash drive reflected the dashboard lights.

'We expose everything.'

'To who?'

'Everyone.'

'That's surprisingly simple.'

'The best plans usually are.'

I stared at him.

For years, I thought Adrian Blackwood was cold.

Heartless.

Emotionally unavailable.

Maybe he was.

But tonight I saw something else.

Loyalty.

A dangerous, stubborn loyalty that refused to die.

Even after six years.

Even after losing the woman he loved.

The realization hurt.

More than I wanted to admit.

A few hours before sunrise, we reached New York.

The city lights stretched endlessly beneath the storm clouds.

Adrian parked inside a private garage beneath Blackwood Tower.

'We're safe here?'

'Safer.'

'That's not a yes.'

'Nothing is completely safe anymore.'

We entered a private elevator.

Neither of us spoke.

The exhaustion was finally catching up.

When the elevator doors opened, we stepped into Adrian's penthouse office.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city.

The skyline glittered in the darkness.

It should have felt impressive.

Instead, it felt like a battlefield.

Adrian immediately connected the drive to a secure computer.

Hundreds of files appeared again.

'What now?' I asked.

'Now we make copies.'

'How many?'

'As many as possible.'

The printer started humming.

Emails.

Transactions.

Photographs.

Statements.

Evidence poured out.

Hours passed.

By sunrise, several boxes sat on the floor.

'This is enough to destroy half the people in those files.'

'Exactly.'

Then Adrian's phone rang.

The caller ID made him freeze.

'Who is it?'

'Detective Harris.'

'The investigator from Celeste's case?'

'Yes.'

Adrian answered.

'Harris.'

Silence.

Then his face changed.

'When?'

More silence.

'We're coming.'

He ended the call.

'What happened?'

'Someone broke into the old Monroe estate last night.'

'Marcus?'

'Probably.'

'Looking for more evidence?'

'No.'

His expression darkened.

'Someone found a body.'

The room became silent.

'A body?'

'Buried beneath the greenhouse.'

My pulse quickened.

'You think it's Celeste.'

Adrian looked away.

The answer was written across his face.

Six years.

Six years of searching.

Six years of hope.

And now...

Maybe a grave.

Two hours later, we arrived at the Monroe estate.

Police vehicles surrounded the property.

Crime-scene tape stretched across the grounds.

Reporters were already gathering outside.

The moment Adrian stepped from the car, cameras turned toward him.

'Mr. Blackwood!'

'Do you believe the remains belong to Celeste Monroe?'

'Have you been secretly investigating the case?'

'Do you know where Marcus Monroe is?'

Questions exploded from every direction.

Adrian ignored all of them.

We entered the greenhouse.

The air smelled of wet soil.

Several officers stood nearby.

A forensic team worked quietly.

Then I saw it.

A silver rose charm.

Lying beside an open grave.

The same charm that had once hung from the teddy bear's ribbon.

Adrian froze.

Completely froze.

For the first time since I met him, I saw tears in his eyes.

'Celeste,' he whispered.

Behind us, a detective approached holding a sealed evidence bag.

'Mr. Blackwood,' he said softly.

'We found something else.'

Inside the bag was a handwritten letter.

Addressed to Adrian.

Dated six years ago.

And somehow never delivered.

A final message from the woman everyone believed had vanished forever.