Chapter 12

Vivian sat in her glass-walled office, her sharp green eyes fixed on the security footage of Ethan's clinic engulfed in flames. The video, taken by one of her informants, played on a loop, and her expression darkened with every replay.

"He burned it down," she muttered, her fingers tapping rhythmically against her desk. "Clever."

The man standing across from her, a lean figure in a tailored suit, shifted uneasily. "It seems he's trying to disappear."

Vivian smirked, her irritation giving way to amusement. "Oh, he can try, but he's not getting away that easily. Do you have the file?"

The man placed a folder on her desk. Inside were surveillance photos, details about Ethan's movements in the underground, and—most importantly—a copy of the bounty flyer now circulating the city.

Vivian leaned back, her lips curling into a cold smile. "If Cross thinks he can outmaneuver me, he's sorely mistaken. Time to turn up the heat."

By midday, news of Dr. Ethan Cross's identity hit every corner of the underground. The whispers spread like wildfire—confirmed details of his wanted status, his alleged involvement in Senator Marcus Holt's death, and a damning dossier outlining his crimes. The bounty, already enticing, now carried an official seal from Holt's political allies and law enforcement.

The underground was in chaos. Some viewed Ethan as a hero betrayed by the system; others saw him as a liability too dangerous to protect. For bounty hunters, the stakes had never been higher.

In the safehouse, Ethan was treating a young woman's infected wound when Grayson stormed in, his expression thunderous. He slammed a newspaper onto the table, causing the instruments to rattle.

"Care to explain this, Cross?" he growled.

Ethan frowned, setting down the syringe and glancing at the paper. His blood ran cold as he saw his face plastered across the front page under the headline: "Fugitive Doctor Wanted for Murder!"

"It's not what it looks like," Ethan began, but Grayson cut him off.

"You lied to me," Grayson snapped. "All this time, you had us protecting you, risking our necks, and you didn't bother to mention that you're the most wanted man in the city?"

"It's not that simple," Ethan said, his voice tight. "I didn't kill Senator Holt. I tried to save him."

Grayson laughed bitterly. "Yeah, well, tell that to the fifty grand bounty on your head."

Ray stepped between them, his voice calm but firm. "Enough. This isn't helping."

Grayson rounded on him. "You knew, didn't you? You knew who he was and didn't say a damn thing!"

"I knew he was running from something," Ray admitted, his tone even. "But I didn't care. What matters is what he's done since then. He's saved lives, Grayson. Including your men."

Grayson's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "And now he's put a target on all of us."

"I didn't ask for this!" Ethan snapped, his voice rising. "I didn't want any of this. But you know what? If you want me gone, fine. I'll leave. I'll figure it out on my own."

The room fell silent, the weight of Ethan's words hanging heavily in the air.

"You're not going anywhere," Clara said suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension. "If Vivian went public with this, it means she wants you desperate. Running plays right into her hands."

Ethan turned to her, his eyes narrowing. "And what do you suggest? That I just stay here and wait for someone to kick down the door?"

Clara smirked faintly. "No. I suggest we hit back."

In her lab, Vivian paced as a new report came in. Her informants confirmed that Ethan was still alive and had been spotted near one of Grayson's old safehouses.

"Interesting," she murmured. "Looks like the good doctor isn't as clever as he thinks."

She turned to her assistant. "Double the bounty. And send a message to every gang leader in Sector D. I want Cross found by nightfall."

"What about Grayson's men?" the assistant asked.

Vivian's smirk widened. "They'll fold under the pressure. Everyone has a breaking point."

Back at the safehouse, Grayson sat silently, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. Ray leaned against the wall, watching him carefully, while Clara worked at a makeshift computer, her fingers flying over the keys.

"We need to relocate," Ray said finally, breaking the silence. "This place won't hold if Vivian's ramping up the pressure."

"And go where?" Grayson muttered. "Every corner of the underground knows his face now."

Clara glanced up from her screen. "Not every corner."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ethan asked.

"There's a sector north of here," Clara said. "It's off the grid—no cameras, no patrols. It's where people go when they don't want to be found."

"And you just happen to know about it?" Ray asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clara shrugged. "Let's just say I have a few contacts. But it's not free. We'll need leverage."

Ethan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Leverage. Of course."

"Look," Clara said, her tone softening slightly. "We can sit here and wait for the walls to close in, or we can make a move. Your call, Doc."

Ethan glanced at Grayson, who still looked torn. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. Let's do it."

As the group prepared to leave, the sound of gunfire echoed in the distance. Ray moved to the window, his jaw tightening as he spotted a group of armed men approaching.

"Looks like Vivian's bounty hunters found us," he said grimly.

Ethan's heart pounded as he grabbed his bag. "We're not ready for this."

"Then we make do," Ray said, pulling his gun. "Clara, get the escape route ready. Grayson, cover the back."

"What about you?" Ethan asked.

Ray smirked, cocking his weapon. "I'll buy us some time."

The safehouse erupted into chaos as the attackers closed in, the sound of gunfire and shouting filling the air. Ethan stayed low, his mind racing as the reality of their situation hit him.

This wasn't just about survival anymore. Vivian had declared war, and if they were going to make it out alive, they needed a plan—and fast.