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“He made Mrs. Moretti run away, and now he’s playing a knight in shining armor for this one?” he muttered, shaking his head. “Make it make sense, Lord.”

His steps slowed as he walked, full of dramatic irritation. “Find Astra in ten days when nobody’s found her in two years? What am I, a bloodhound?”

He raked a hand through his hair like a man personally victimized by his job, letting out a loud groan.

“Why is this job always so damn hard? I swear I need a raise… or a therapist. Probably both.”

***

Krystal paced the living room like a storm in heels, her hands on her hips, frustration stamped all over her face. Her jaw was tight, her lips pressed in a hard line, like she was one wrong word away from exploding.

Darren lounged on the couch across from her, watching her unravel with the calm of someone used to being her emotional punching bag.

“It’s impossible to find a decent job anymore!” she snapped, flinging her hands in the air. “And why the hell is that human Cactus always around? Of all people,him?”

She stopped mid-stride, turned sharply, and marched toward him.

“I left him for a reason, Darren. I didn’t survive all that crap just to have Lorenzo’s face pop up every five damn minutes like a cursed ad! Running into him at the hospital today? That was not part of the plan.”

Her voice dropped, dead serious now.

“If he figures out Astra is me? It’s over. He has everything—my real name, number, my documents, hell, probably even my damn blood type.”

She stared at Darren, eyes wide with panic and urgency.

“We need to leave.Now.I’m not waiting around to be caught.”

Darren sighed heavily, running a hand down his face before standing up. He walked over and gently wrapped an arm around her tense shoulders.

“I get it, honey. I do. And yeah—leaving sounds smart right now. But we’re not the same spoiled brats from two years ago. We’re broke. No cash. No contacts. No home. Without money, we can’t even leave this damn block, let alone the country.”

Krystal’s nostrils flared. “Then steal some. I don’t care. Sell a kidney.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Whose? Yours or mine?”

She gave him a deadly glare.

He raised both hands. “Kidding. Sort of.”

Krystal’s expression crumpled. She sank onto the couch like a puppet with its strings cut, arms flopped wide, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Those divorce papers…” she murmured, voice raw. “I walked away from a hundred million in alimony. A hundred freaking million.” Her throat caught, and a soft, bitter sob slipped out. “If I’d known things would getthisbad, I would've married him twice just to take it all.”

In the kitchen, Darren turned the tap and grabbed a glass, only catching the words ‘hundred million’ from her quiet meltdown.

“Yeah,” he replied absently, sipping water. “That bounty’s a hundred million now. Too bad we can’t take it since you’re not ready.”

Krystal’s head shot up. “What?”

Darren looked over his shoulder, cool as ever. “The bounty went up. Not twenty-five anymore. It’s one hundred mil. But don’t worry, I know you’d never risk your safety for money. I’ll turn it down.”

He turned toward his laptop, but Krystal launched off the couch like a woman possessed, slapped his arm, and snatched the laptop from his hands.

"When the hell did I say I wouldn’t accept it?" she breathed, eyes glued to the screen.

And there it was. Bold letters.

Reward: $100,000,000.