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Darren frowned. “What about your safety?”

Krystal’s eyes gleamed like a raccoon spotting diamonds. “Screw safety,” she muttered, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Twenty-five million wasn’t worth the risk. But a hundred?”

She let out a laugh, wild and unbothered. “I could hire an army of bodyguards, buy a private island, and still ride into the sunset like a damn queen.”

She spun toward Darren, eyes sparkling. “Sign the damn contract. Half upfront, half after the job’s done.”

Darren chuckled, lifting his hand for a high five. “We’re about to be filthy rich again.”

Their palms slapped together with a satisfying smack, both grinning like criminals with a plan.

***

Lorenzo stood in his home office, his tall frame silhouetted against the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights casting a cold glow behind him. The air inside was thick—charged—with rage barely held on a leash. A single desk lamp flickered low, casting jagged shadows that stretched like claws across the room.

His voice erupted, sharp and thunderous, slicing through the silence like a whip.

“You’ve got every damn resource in the world at your disposal, and you still can’t find a small woman in a small fucking city?”

Xander stood a few feet away, shoulders taut, flinching at the raw fury in Lorenzo’s tone.

“I’ve really tried everything, sir,” he said carefully, voice tight with pressure. “Someone’s covering Mrs. Moretti’s tracks. Any footage of her at the hospital or nearby—gone. Deleted. No trail,no timestamps, no sightings. I can’t even confirm how she left the building. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”

Lorenzo took a slow, burning step forward. His jaw clenched, eyes darkening with rage.

“Are you serious right now?” he growled, the calm in his voice more terrifying than the earlier outburst. “You’re telling me… you can’t track down a girl who walked out withnothing?”

He took another step, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous murmur.

“She left with nothing but the clothes on her back. No money. No power. She’s an orphan, Xander. A nobody.” His voice cracked slightly, rage boiling over the edges. "Where the hell could she go after leaving me?"

Xander flinched, drawing in a tense breath. He glanced at Lorenzo, the flicker of fear in his eyes barely masked. Truth be told, he had the same damn question—who the hell was covering the tracks of a housewife with no money, no family, no friends, and no resources?

The whole thing made no sense. The hospital’s security footage was wiped clean every time she showed up. Not just the hospital entrance, but the surrounding street cameras too. Everything around her movements went black, like someone had scrubbed her existence clean. Like someone was deleting her existence in real-time.

It wasn’t just strange anymore. It was suspicious.

Before Xander could voice anything, Lorenzo’s phone rang, piercing the thick silence of the dimly lit room.

He looked down at the screen. Unknown number.

He picked it up with a sigh, brows furrowed. His jaw tightened as he answered.

"Hello," A woman’s voice came through, calm and clear. “This is Doctor Astra. I heard you were looking for me?”

Lorenzo froze. “Hello?”

But before he could say another word, the call disconnected.

Across town, Krystal hurled the phone onto the couch like it had burned her skin. Her face had drained of all color, pale as a ghost under the kitchen lights. She stumbled back a few steps, gasping, her hands flying to her chest as if trying to keep her heart from pounding out of her ribs.

Darren jumped, flinching at the sudden burst of panic. “What the hell happened?”

Krystal didn’t answer right away. She stood frozen, staring at the phone like it might come alive and bite her. Horror twisted her features, her lips trembling as she whispered, “Why is that damn Cactus haunting me like a ghost?” Her voice cracked. “I barely saw him when we were married. He was always cold, distant, busy. And now? He’s everywhere. Everywhere I go, he shows up like he’s under my skin.”

She backed up until her hand found the edge of a kitchen counter, gripping it for support as her knees weakened. “What the hell is going on? He’s like a damn ghost!”

Darren narrowed his eyes, still trying to catch up. “Are you sure it was him? That call lasted, like, a second.”