Chapter 22: No Time to Rest

 The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains of the safe house, casting a soft glow over the room. James sat on the edge of the bed, his thoughts a million miles away. The fire at the docks, Anna's escape, and the arrival of the Syndicate—all of it was spiraling faster than he'd anticipated.

Sophia stirred beside him, her hand brushing against his back. "You're up already?" she asked, her voice still groggy from sleep.

James glanced at her, the softness of her face a stark contrast to the storm brewing in his mind. "We don't have much time. If the Syndicate finds out what happened at the docks, they'll be on us sooner than we think. We need to move."

Sophia nodded, sitting up as the weight of their situation settled in once more. "What's the plan?"

"We need to find out who Anna's new allies are," James said, his tone sharp and focused. "That gang wasn't just some random group. Anna's making moves, and I have a feeling Antonio's not going to like it when he finds out."

Sophia stood, pulling on her clothes from the night before. "We can tap into the network again, see if anyone's heard anything. But we'll have to be careful—after last night, everyone's going to be on high alert."

James grabbed his phone, already thinking three steps ahead. "We'll start with the docks. Someone there had to have seen something, and I have a few contacts who owe me favors."

Sophia crossed the room, her expression serious. "And Anna?"

James's eyes darkened at the mention of her name. "She's smart, but she's not untouchable. We'll find her, and when we do, we'll finish this."

Sophia took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their next steps. But before she could respond, James suddenly closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss filled with raw intensity. It wasn't just passion—it was a need to feel alive after everything that had happened.

Her heart raced as his hands slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Sophia's body responded, her fingers threading through his hair as their kiss deepened, erasing the fear and danger that loomed outside the safe house. For a moment, there was only the two of them.

But the heat between them was short-lived as reality pressed in again. James reluctantly pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other's.

"We have to stay sharp," he murmured, his voice strained. "The Syndicate's going to come down hard after this."

Sophia nodded, her breath still heavy from the kiss. "I know… but we'll get through it."

The room was still humming with the energy of their shared moment, but James's mind was already pulling him back into focus. He could feel it—the creeping sense of urgency, the weight of the unknown. The Syndicate would be moving swiftly now, and they had no time to lose.

"Let's move," he said, slipping his gun into its holster. "The longer we wait, the more time Anna has to disappear."

Sophia was already ready, pulling her jacket over her shoulders, her eyes sharp and focused. She followed him out the door, the tension between them still palpable, but neither had the luxury to dwell on it.

They drove through the city's waking streets, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. The docks were a shadow of their former selves, smoldering debris scattered along the shore. But even as they pulled up, James's eyes scanned the scene, already calculating, already putting the pieces together.

"They'll want to cover their tracks," James said, his voice calm but edged with purpose. "But there's always something left behind."

He moved through the wreckage with an eerie precision, his steps deliberate, his gaze sharp. It was moments like these that gave Sophia a glimpse into the man he truly was—the ruthless strategist, the one who always knew where to look and how to find answers. It was a side of him she was both fascinated and unsettled by.

"You know exactly where to go," Sophia observed, falling into step beside him.

James didn't answer right away, his focus locked on the faint scorch marks on the ground. He knelt down, running his fingers over a patch of disturbed soil near a stack of crates.

"Anna's people are good," he said, his voice low. "But not good enough."

Sophia watched him, marveling at how effortlessly he moved through the wreckage, finding things no one else could. She had always known James was dangerous, but moments like these reminded her just how powerful he truly was.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. A message—encrypted, as always. James's eyes narrowed as he read the coded text. A lead, and from someone unexpected.

Sophia noticed the shift in his demeanor. "What is it?"

"A friend," James said, his expression unreadable. "Someone I've kept off the radar. He has information on Anna's movements."

Before she could ask more, James was already dialing. The call was brief—no more than a few cryptic words exchanged—but the outcome was clear.

"We have a location," James said, turning to Sophia. "Anna's people didn't make it far. They're hiding in the industrial district."

Sophia's pulse quickened, a mix of adrenaline and tension building inside her. "What now?"

James's gaze was cold, calculating. "We move fast. If we catch them off-guard, we'll have the upper hand."

As they headed back to the car, Sophia could see it—the subtle but undeniable shift in James's posture, the way he commanded the space around him. There was no doubt now that he was a man of immense power, a man who had spent years perfecting the art of control. But even as she followed him, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than she knew—layers of secrets, buried deep beneath the surface.