The hunt begins

The silence in Logan Reinhardt's study was thick, heavier than the glass of aged whiskey in his grip. He wasn't drinking it—he never did when his mind was on edge. He only held it, letting the ice melt, letting the weight of the glass keep him grounded as his mind churned through the problem at hand.

A man had approached Leina.

A man they couldn't identify.

That fact alone made Logan's blood run cold.

He stood by the large window, his reflection blending into the night. Below, the city stretched endlessly, bathed in dim streetlights and the occasional glow of passing cars. The world moved on, unaware of the storm brewing in his mind.

Behind him, the soft padding of bare feet against the wooden floor told him she was here. Giselle. She never made a sound unless she wanted to be heard.

"What do we know?" she asked, her voice calm, steady—too steady.

Logan turned, his gaze locking onto hers. She had changed into one of his robes, but there was nothing soft about her demeanor. It was the same expression she had when making a precise cut—whether it was in the kitchen or elsewhere.

His lips pressed into a thin line. "Not enough."

She leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing her arms. "That's not like you."

Logan exhaled sharply, setting the glass down. "The guy doesn't exist."

Giselle's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Everyone exists, Logan."

His hands found his pockets, a telltale sign of his frustration. "Not this one. No records, no affiliations, no digital footprint. Even the CCTV footage from the school was useless—he knew exactly where the blind spots were."

That made her pause. That level of awareness wasn't random.

"That's calculated," she murmured.

Logan nodded. "Which means this wasn't some lunatic off the street."

Giselle straightened, pacing slightly. "If he wasn't there to take her, then why was he there?"

Logan ran a hand down his face. "To get close. To see her. Maybe even to test our reaction time." His voice was low, simmering with restrained anger. "And I don't like being tested."

Giselle's fingers twitched. Old instincts clawed their way up, instincts she had spent years trying to bury. But this wasn't about her past. This was about their daughter.

She stopped pacing. "Have you made the call?"

Logan's smirk was humorless. "I did. But I doubt I'll like what I hear."

Giselle tilted her head. "Who did you reach out to?"

Logan sighed, rubbing his temple. "Reginald."

A pause. Then a soft chuckle escaped her lips.

"So, you really don't want to sleep tonight."

Logan's expression darkened. "If someone is moving in Westdentia, Reginald knows about it. He's a lot of things, but careless isn't one of them."

She studied him for a long moment. "And if it's something bigger?"

"Then I want to know first."

A beat of silence passed between them.

Giselle moved closer, placing a hand on his arm. "We've kept them safe for years, Logan. Leina is smart. She's cautious. But she's still just a child."

Logan covered her hand with his own, his grip firm. "I know." His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. "And that's why I won't let this go."

She nodded, a silent agreement passing between them.

Then, almost as if on cue, Logan's phone buzzed against the desk.

They both turned.

Unknown number.

Logan picked up, pressing the phone to his ear without a greeting.

A low, familiar voice spoke on the other end.

"You're not going to like this, Reinhardt."

Logan's jaw clenched. "Tell me."

A short pause.

Then—

"The man who approached your daughter? He's dead. Found an hour ago."

Logan's grip tightened around the phone.

Giselle's eyes narrowed.

Reginald's voice continued. "But here's the part that got my attention. He wasn't alone."

Logan exchanged a look with Giselle before responding. "Go on."

Reginald let out a slow exhale. "The other one? The one you sent to one of your medical facilities?"

Logan's expression darkened. "Seagull."

"Yeah. That guy. I did some digging, and it turns out they knew each other. More than that—there was a pattern to their movements before all this. They weren't just two random men."

Giselle's brows furrowed. "What kind of pattern?"

A rustling sound on the other end before Reginald spoke again.

"They were watching someone." A pause. "And it wasn't Leina."

Logan and Giselle exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable.

"Then who?" Logan asked.

Reginald's voice lowered slightly.

"That's what I'm still figuring out."

The call ended with that.

Logan lowered the phone slowly, his mind racing.

Giselle exhaled. "This isn't random."

"No." Logan's gaze hardened. "And I don't like being in the dark."

The study remained silent, but the weight of the conversation lingered.

This wasn't over.

And they weren't the only ones looking for answers.