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I felt it before I saw anything—the charged silence, the way the air seemed to constrict around us. The shooting had stopped. But where was he? Where was Marcus Cole? I felt an unease spread inside of me. Every nerve ending was alight with the knowledge that Marcus could be watching, his presence a shadow lurking nearby.

"Mom?" Olivia's voice was barely audible over the rustle of the palms.

"Stay close." My words cut through the balmy breeze, my hand reaching back to find hers. “We need to get out of here.”

We moved with purpose, our footsteps soft against the stone pathway. Each flicker of light from the torches cast elongated shadows that danced ominously around us. I couldn't shake the feeling of eyes tracking our every step, the cold certainty that we were not alone in this tropical paradise turned sinister.

"Olivia." I kept my voice level. "We need to think like he does—stay one step ahead."

She nodded, her silhouette tense beside me. The glint of determination in her eyes reminded me so much of myself at that age—fearless, even when fear was the most sensible thing to feel.

"Let's—" Her breath hitched as she stumbled against an uneven edge of the path.

"Careful," I whispered, steadying her with a firm grip.

"Sorry," she murmured, straightening up.

"Nothing to apologize for." The words were automatic, but they carried weight.

Her body leaned into mine, seeking solace. I wrapped my arm around her, feeling the tremble in her frame. She was strong, my girl, but even the strongest need a haven.

"Mom," she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder. "I don't know if I can?—"

"You can," I interrupted, fierce and certain. "You're stronger than you realize."

"Thanks," she breathed, pulling back slightly to look at me. There was a spark there, a kindling of resolve.

"Let's keep moving," I urged, my voice low. Time was slipping through our fingers, each second a drumbeat toward an unknown climax.

"Right behind you," she affirmed, and I felt the subtle shift in her stance—a readiness that matched my own.

I glanced at the sky, noting how the dark clouds mirrored the churn in my gut. Marcus was still out there—cunning, damaged, and unpredictable. My mind raced with scenarios, each more harrowing than the last.

"Mom," Olivia's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "What's our next move?"

"Find him before he finds us," I replied tersely, my eyes never leaving the horizon and the darkening sky. "We don't have much time."

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her hands were fists at her sides, ready for whatever came next. I admired her courage, her resilience—a chip off the old block.

"Olivia," I said sharply, grabbing her attention. "Remember, no hesitations. We do what we must to stay safe."

"I understand," she responded, her tone laced with steel.

"Good." I scanned our surroundings, every sense heightened. The Paradise Key had turned into a chessboard, and we were pawns in Marcus's twisted game.

"Mom…" Olivia began, her eyes searching mine.

"Say it," I prompted, knowing unspoken fears festered worse than open wounds.

"Are you scared?" Her voice barely rose above the wind picking up around us.

"Terrified," I admitted. It wasn't weakness to acknowledge fear; it was foolishness to ignore it. "But fear keeps us sharp. And I'll be damned if I let that man harm you more than he has already."

Olivia stepped closer, her shoulder brushing against mine. The silent message was clear—we were in this together, come hell or high water.

"Let's end this," she whispered, her determination tangible.

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of our plight. The clouds grew heavier as if they, too, anticipated the coming confrontation. We shared a look that needed no translation—it was time to act.