chapter 5

"Stay put. I'll come for you when it's arranged. Time's up. Message, don't call."

He pulled the cap low, the brim casting a shadow that seemed to swallow his face.

Lois gave a sullen nod, eyes glistening with frustrated tears as he turned.

He reached the door, pulled it open—and faced the void. The circular black eyes of multiple gun barrels greeted him.

"Mark Kelly. You're under arrest."

The sight triggered an animal recoil. Then he was on the cold floor.

"Don't move! Police!"

A shriek tore from Lois's throat. She scrambled backward, a cornered animal trying to fuse with the mattress.

"Ah! Who are you? Help!"

Then her eyes found the operation's leader. Blood drained from her face, leaving a ghastly mask. Her lips trembled around a disbelieving name.

"Juan."

Juan. A cop.

Then what had she been doing all this time?

The realization was a physical blow. Every touch, every whispered confidence—all a lie. A seething hatred boiled in her chest.

"Juan Davis! You lied! All of it!"

Juan didn't respond. He only pressed down harder on Mark's legs, securing the cuff with a definitive click. His eyes flicked to her for the briefest of moments.

Once the suspect was contained, silence returned. That was when I stepped into the doorway. Slowly. Deliberately.

Lois's wild eyes landed on me. They widened into perfect, uncomprehending circles.

"You... you..."

She was completely stunned, so much so that she couldn't even find the words. In her mind, I had always been nothing more than a quiet housewife.

I was supposed to be the one under her heel, easy to dismiss. Now I stood before her in the same dark blue as Juan. The shock contorting her features was absolute—more complete than a nuclear fireball blooming in the room.

"Surprised to see me like this?"

I took a seat. My gaze swept over Mark, pinned and writhing on the floor. Something inside me turned to stone.

"Mark Kelly." The name was a verdict. "You're a real piece of work. We've been chasing you for three years, playing this game for three years just to finally get you. You've been a costly investment."

His head snapped up. The look he gave me was pure, undiluted venom.

"Bitch! You'd better hope I'd never get my hands on you—"

"Shut the fuck up and talk right!"

The crack of Juan's palm against his face was a sharp report. Mark fell silent, but his eyes never left me—two pools of black hatred.

I felt nothing. Men like him only understand force. The smart move was to start with Lois—the weaker link.

I turned to her, my voice lowering, almost conversational.

"You know what he's done. He's got a rap sheet long enough to send him to prison for life. Do you really want to be buried with him?"

I let the question hang, a noose waiting for its weight.

"Harboring a fugitive makes you an accomplice. Think of the child you're carrying. Do you want its first sound to be the world's scorn? Its life defined by 'murderer's son'?"

I leaned forward slightly. "They'll say it comes from rotten stock. That the whole family is damned."

My eyes held hers, unblinking. "And your parents... simple, hardworking people. What happens when their neighbors learn their daughter ran off with a killer? The shame will seep into their old age, taint every relative connected to your name. Their grandchildren, barred from decent futures, bearing the stain of your choice."