Ray

The airport buzzed with life as Flight 472 from New York landed, its passengers spilling into the terminal. The airport was a jungle of rolling suitcases and half-asleep travelers, but I’d already zeroed in on them, the wife, the teenage girl, and the toddler wobbling on unsteady feet, clutching a juice box too big for his little hand. They looked fragile, exposed. Easy to break apart from the crowd if you knew where to press.

Beside me, Austin blended in too well, dark jacket, badge tucked where no one could see. Even without looking at him, I could feel the edge he carried, the steady calm of a man trained to control chaos.

“Ten o’clock,” I murmured.

He adjusted his pace, eyes flicking toward the family without turning his head. “I see them. Slow and steady. No alarms.”

That was our rule. No alarms.

The wife struggled with a stroller and a carry-on bag. The teenager dragged her feet, scrolling through her phone, not watching the toddler veer dangerously close to the crowd. That was the crack in the wall. Families rarely moved as one; you just had to widen the gaps.

I stepped forward first, crouching near the toddler when his juice box slipped. “Hey, buddy,” I said softly, picking it up before it could spill. I offered it back with a smile that never reached my eyes. The boy looked at me, big, curious eyes, unafraid. Kids always trusted the wrong people.

The mother gave me a polite, distracted thank-you, tugging the stroller upright. That was all the permission I needed. Austin was already moving, slipping in beside the teenager like an overworked airport staffer.

“Your family’s car is waiting outside,” he told the girl casually, the kind of authority that slid past suspicion. He didn’t ask, he told. The girl blinked, hesitated, then instinctively followed when he shifted toward the side corridor.

By the time the mother noticed, I was already steering her toward the same path. “This way, ma’am. The driver’s waiting.” I said it with the clipped confidence of someone who belonged here. Airports were built on blind trust, uniforms, voices of authority, people pointing where to go.

No one looked twice. Not the security guard distracted by a backpack search. Not the tired travelers staring at the arrival board. To the world, we were just a family being escorted to their ride.

Minutes later, the side door opened, and the black SUV was waiting. Doors clicked shut with a clean finality, sealing them in. The toddler whimpered, sensing the shift. The mother opened her mouth, but Austin leaned forward, his voice low, calm, and edged with steel.

“Stay quiet. Nothing happens to you or your kids as long as you do exactly what we say.”

The car pulled away from the terminal, blending into traffic. Smooth. No alarms. Just the way I’d planned it.

We drove to the place where we usually torture whoever needs it. Honestly, it’s just an abandoned garage. I commanded my subordinates to treat his family with care and to give the children a little sedatives until the mouse doesn’t

 come out of his hole.

Minutes passed after we arrived. Austin came up to me, looking tense.

“I need to return to headquarters,” he took a long breath, “they found the footage from Ha Ri’s rehearsals,” he said 

“Do you want me to do something?” I said

“No, no… they didn’t see your face, keep it covered, I’ll handle it,” he said, and I tapped on his shoulder and he went off. 

I walked towards Miller’s wife who had finally tied up from the chair and shutted her mouth. I dragged a chair and sat on it, she continued to look at me with tears in her eyes, her eyes begging for mercy. I ordered to remove her gag from her mouth and she started pleading again. 

“Pep…please let my children go” she said and got interrupted with tears again.

“Imnotgonnahurtyourchildren,” i said “i will only kept them until your husband comes but…” I took a pause and leaned into her, I saw fear in her eyes from up close and it somehow gave me a little sense of power. Having people feared you, is this Power? that people of this world want? 

“I can’t guarantee what i’ll do to you all if he didn’t come.” i said and stood up. I hear her screams from behind until they put a gag in her mouth again. 

It was almost midnight when Sheng dropped me off at April’s apartment. I told him to take the night off, to rest, he’d earned it. The only thing on my mind was her. I needed to see April, to keep her near. Only then would the gnawing unease in my chest quiet down.

The hallway was hushed when I reached her floor, the kind of silence that pressed in on you. I leaned against the keypad outside her door and typed in the code.

Incorrect.

I tried again, slower this time. Incorrect.

A low chuckle slipped out before I could stop it. Of course, she’d changed it. My little precious, thinking a code could keep me out. My shoulder rested against her door, the cool wood steadying me. For a moment, I just stood there, breathing in the faint trace of her perfume lingering in the air.

Then I pulled out my phone. My thumb hovered before pressing El’s name. It rang once, twice, three, four, five times before her groggy voice finally answered.

“What is it? “ El groaned, her voice groggy. Definitely dozed off in her chair again.

“Need a favor,” I said, and she cursed a few words at me again, then I heard her slurping into the coffee cup.

“Did she change her passcode again?” she said

“Yeah”

“Okay, how much?”

I exhaled a long breath, as if April's changing her passcode was not enough for testing my patience. 

“100 bucks?” I said politely, and she snorted so loudly I had to pull the phone away. 

“A hundred bucks? Who do you think I am? Robin Hood? You’re practically Scrooge McDuck, swimming in your money vault. Two companies, three hotels, a house in Scarsdale, two apartments, a resort, 2 Bugatti Noire, a mustang, a royal Royce, and 2 Lamborghinis, not to mention your slurpy ninja Kawasaki and oh, let’s not forget, a freaking private jet. And you’re offering me a hundred bucks?”

I blinked. Twice. “...I have all that?” I said 

“Clearly, your accountants hate you. Anyway, my price just went up.”

I groaned. “Alright, a thousand and dinner. Deal?”

“Hmm…” she said, dragging out the hum like she was considering a global merger. “I want a new MacBook Pro. The shiny one.”

“You’re a sister of a high-ranking FBI officer.”

“So? “ she said, like it's nothing. I wish I could kill her, but she’s useful. 

“Tick tick Mr. Monopoly”

“Fine! Just get me the damn passcode" I  said, clenching my teeth.

“In five, lover boy,” she said and hung up the next second. I seriously have no decent friends.

April

I woke up on the couch, my whole body aching. Every bruise and cut felt like a fresh reminder of last night. As I shifted, a soft blanket slid over me, and I paused. Wait. Who put this here? My fingers ran over the fabric as I tried to piece everything together, but my mind was foggy.

A faint humming sound reached my ears, pulling me out of my thoughts. It came from my bedroom, specifically the bathroom. My stomach dropped. Someone was in my shower.

I swung my legs off the couch, my bare feet meeting the cold floor. The air felt strange, like I wasn’t alone. Quietly, I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. My heart raced as I crept toward the sound. Each step brought me closer to the bathroom, and the humming grew clearer.

“Shall I stay?” The voice was singing, trying to imitate Elvis.

I swallowed hard, gripping the knife tighter. My heart thumped wildly as I reached the bedroom door. Without thinking, I pushed it open.

"Would it be a sin?” The voice got stronger, and I attempted to understand it by squeezing my eyes; he was singing Elvis’s famous drawl. I pushed the door of the bathroom,

And there he was.

Ray Wallace, standing in my shower, singing like he had all the time in the world. Water streamed down his body, but his image was barely seen because of the foggy show cabin. I didn’t enter the bathroom, I just took a deep breath, being speechless.

What security system should I install in my apartment so that he can’t crack it? This fucker!  

“Ray fucking Wallace,” I muttered under my breath, irritation bubbling up. Of course, he was here. Nothing ever shook him.

He stopped singing but didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. The water shut off with a loud squeak. I spun on my heel, ready to leave before I lost my temper, but I didn’t get far. When a wet hand grabbed my waist, stopping me in my tracks.

The coldness of his touch sent a shiver through me, but his grip was firm. I froze as he leaned in, his chest pressing lightly against my back. I feel something else, is he naked?

The heat of his body was overwhelming, making goosebumps rise on my skin. I hated how I couldn’t hide my body reactions; my thighs began to waver when his hand traveled under my shirt. I had no control.

“Move,” I said, my voice shaky but determined.

Instead of listening, he lowered his head, his lips brushing against my ear. His warm breath sent a wave of heat down my spine, and I had to fight to stay still. I turn my hands into fists and close my eyes tightly shut, too, just to stay like a stone.

“For I can’t help falling in love with you,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. Did he just finish the song?

My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it. For a moment, I stood there, caught in the storm of emotions he stirred in me. Then, gathering whatever strength I had left, I grabbed his hand, pushed it off me, and stormed out of the room without looking back.

My cheeks were burning, and my chest felt tight. Ray Wallace had a way of getting under my skin, of making me feel things I didn’t want to feel. And I hated that I couldn’t stop him.

I walked straight towards my door and checked my passcode, typing aggressively on the keypad, but everything was fine. 

“I apologize for coming in without permission.” his voice came from the lounge, and I looked at him. He was smiling, smiling? How could he? He went into the kitchen, and I walked towards him, holding on to my anger.

“I am reporting you to the police!” I shouted, pointing at him standing behind the counter, and turned immediately to search for my phone.

“You have the full right to try,” he said, and my steps got frozen. 

“You can’t do this to me” I said in a low voice.

“Then don’t change your passcode next time.” He said carelessly while taking out eggs and bacon from my fridge. His temper, his acts, and even his breathing carelessly annoy me. I closed my fist tight enough that my nails started to pinch into my skin. My temples started to ache again. I hate him

“I know you hate me!” he said in a low voice, and I lifted my head to meet his eyes. He extracted an apple juice and walked towards me, holding on to the glass.

“I’m sorry, but don't push me away,” he said, pulling out the glass forward to me. I met his gaze, a hint of black and grey streak in his eyes always made me imagine what the devil looked like. He must have the same eyes as his. He was still standing, waiting for me to take the glass.

“Let me tell you something really quick, Mr Wallace,” I said, leaning closer to him, “the girl you have affection for was a stupid, careless, teenage high school girl, and it'll sound immature, but yes, she’s dead! Years ago. So stop meddling in my business and stay away from me.” 

“I can help you” He whispered, leaning closer to me, his breath brushing against my lips.

“I can be the most useful tool for you in this revengeful journey, I can be your protector, a Salvator” He said, and I could see only dedication in his eyes. His eyes, which have no fear, haunt me to the core. What is it he is afraid of the most? 

 I took the glass from him. 

“Get out of my apartment, and if you don’t stop coming in without my permission, I will call the police” I said without wasting my energy.

“Have you given a thought to my proposal?” he asked.

His words made me stop in my tracks. I slowly turned to face him. A bitter laugh escaped me as I looked at his calm face. He sat on my couch in a robe, smiling like he’d already won.

My anger boiled over.

“Even if I were blind, crippled, and desperate, I would never marry you,” I said sharply. “Don’t ask me again, Mr. Wallace.”

Without waiting for a response, I walked to my room and slammed the door shut.

Leaning against the door, I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. My eyes fell on the clock. Damn it. I was late.