Chapter 8: Hunted

The Watcher

9:00 p.m. – Olivia's Temporary Apartment

The city outside Olivia's apartment hummed with the noise of traffic and the distant neon lights. It was dark in the room, aside from the glow of the television screen flickering. Olivia sat on the edge of the couch, laptop open in front of her, eyes scanning over the latest news reports of Victor's murder.

The media depicted her as the ultimate femme fatale—a gold-digging wife who killed her billionaire husband for his money. The headlines were brutal: "Olivia Sinclair: Killer or Victim?" "The Dark Secrets of the Harrington Murder."

Olivia closed the laptop with a sigh, her mind reeling. She'd spent the day trying to piece together the fragments of Victor's life, searching for any fact that would clear her name. But the more she learned, the more she realized how little she'd actually known about him.

A noise in the hallway stilled her. It was quiet, but unmistakable—the groan of footsteps.

Her heart pounding, she rose to her feet, her eyes fixed on the door. The footsteps grew louder, as did the faint creak of floorboards. Someone was in the hallway outside her apartment.

Olivia grabbed the nearest weapon—a heavy glass vase—and held it tightly as she backed toward the window. The footsteps stopped, and there was a pause.

Then the door handle rattled.

Olivia's breath caught in her throat as the door groaned open. A shadowy figure slipped in; their face obscured by a hood.

"Who are you?" Olivia demanded, her voice trembling.

The figure did not speak. Instead, they pounced on her, their actions swift and deliberate.

Olivia swung the vase, but the figure dodged it without difficulty, grasping her arm and twisting it behind her back. She cried out in pain, the vase slipping from her fingers and shattering on the floor.

"Be quiet," the figure snarled, their voice low and menacing.

Olivia struggled against their grip, but it was no use. The figure was too strong.

"What do you want?" she gasped, her mind desperately struggling to think.

The figure leaned in closer, their breath hot against her ear. "The flash drive. Where is it?"

Olivia's heart skipped a beat. The flash drive—the one she had found in Victor's study. It was the key to everything, and now somebody was willing to kill for it.

"I don't have it," she lied, her voice shaking.

The figure tightened their fists, and Olivia cried out in pain. "Don't try to trick me," they snarled. "Where is it?"

Olivia had not had time to respond when a noise in the hallway caused the figure to freeze. Footsteps in the corridor, heavy and getting closer by the moment.

The figure cursed, releasing Olivia and shoving her to the floor. "This isn't over," they hissed, and dissolved into the shadows.

Olivia stumbled to her feet, her heart pounding as she locked the door and leaned against it, struggling for air.

The Break-In

Olivia sat on the sofa, her hands trembling as she clutched a glass of water. She had been shaken by her confrontation with the person in the hoodie, but she knew she could not stay here. She had to find the flash drive—and fast.

A noise at the window halted her in her tracks. She turned, her eyes widening as she saw a figure swing in through the open window.

"Damien?" she whispered, barely audible.

Damien Cross dropped silently to the floor, his movements stealthy and deliberate. He was dressed in all black, his face obscured as he moved toward her.

"We need to get out of here," he said to her, his voice low and urgent.

"What are you doing here?" Olivia asked, attempting to get her thoughts together.

"I told you the syndicate was following you," Damien stated, his eyes scanning the room. "They'll never give up until they find what they're looking for."

"The flash drive," Olivia said, her voice trembling.

Damien nodded. "Where is it?"

"I don't have it," Olivia admitted. "I left it hidden in Victor's study."

Damien cursed beneath his breath. "Then we need to retrieve it. Now."

Olivia had no time to respond before the room was filled with the noise of shattering glass. She turned to find two men climbing through the window, their faces obscured by masks.

"Get down!" Damien shouted, pulling Olivia to the ground as a bullet whizzed past her head.

Pandemonium erupted in the room. Damien grabbed a lamp from the table and hurled it at one of the men, striking him in the head. The man reeled, but the other was already advancing, his gun coming to bear on Olivia.

Damien launched himself at him, disarming him with a swift, brutal motion. The two men struggled, their movements a blur of fists and curses.

Olivia fought her way to her feet, her eyes raking the room for something—anything—she could use as a weapon. She grabbed a shard of glass from the broken vase and slashed at the intruder's neck, causing him to drop his gun.

Damien delivered a knockout blow, and the man crashed to the floor.

"We need to get out of here," Damien said, his voice low and commanding.

Olivia nodded, her hands still trembling as they crawled out the window and disappeared into the night.

The Chase

The city was a blur of lights and shadows as Olivia and Damien sprinted down the dark alley, their footsteps echoing off the brick walls. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit grew louder—shouts, the screech of tires, the unmistakable crack of a gun being reloaded.

Who are they?" Olivia gasped, her breathing in short, sharp bursts.

"Still the syndicate," Damien grated, his voice tight. "They're everywhere. They're bent on cleaning up loose ends."

With Olivia's heart pounding, they rounded a corner, the narrow alley opening up into a busy street. The neon lights of the city streaked around them as they ran, the noise of the night closing in around them.

"Stay close," Damien snarled, his hold on her hand tightening.

They plunged through a side door of an abandoned warehouse, the door slamming shut behind them. The building was dark and empty, the air thick with dust and decay.

"Where are we?" Olivia gasped, her voice trembling.

"Somewhere they won't find us," Damien whispered, his gaze scanning the shadows.