Chapter 6 The Web Tightens

The night was silent, but Aria's mind was anything but.

She sat in front of her laptop, staring at the frozen frame of the video. The boy in the shadows.

Killian.

It had to be him.

Her fingers twitched over the keyboard as she ran the footage through every enhancement program she had access to. But no matter how much she sharpened the image, the boy's face remained just beyond recognition—like a ghost refusing to be seen.

She exhaled sharply, pushing away from her desk.

Her apartment felt smaller tonight, suffocating. Like his presence was here, lingering, watching.

She grabbed her gun and holster, strapping it beneath her leather jacket. If he wanted her to dig deeper, she'd make sure she unearthed everything.

And she knew exactly where to start.

The Warehouse at the Edge of the City

Aria's tires screeched as she pulled up to the abandoned dockside warehouse.

This was where the last known sighting of The Phantom's men had been reported. If there were any traces of his operations left behind, she was going to find them.

Her boots echoed against the cracked pavement as she moved cautiously inside, gun drawn. The air smelled of rust, sea salt, and the faint metallic tang of blood.

The place looked abandoned, but Aria knew better.

Nothing in Killian's world was ever truly abandoned.

She swept the flashlight along the walls, noting faded gang markings and the remnants of what must've once been a major trafficking hub.

Then—a noise.

Soft. Deliberate.

She spun, weapon raised.

Nothing.

Her heart pounded. She wasn't alone.

She took a step forward, scanning the shadows when—

A hand clamped over her mouth from behind.

The Phantom's Trap

She reacted instantly, jabbing her elbow back, aiming for the ribs.

Her attacker dodged effortlessly.

A deep chuckle vibrated against her ear. "Predictable."

Him.

Before she could react again, he spun her, pressing her back against a rusted metal beam. His grip was firm, but not painful—as if he wanted to feel her struggle.

The dim light illuminated his face just enough for her to catch the smirk behind his mask.

"Curiosity is dangerous, Detective," he murmured.

Her breath was ragged, adrenaline surging. Damn him.

"You left the video," she accused, her voice sharp.

His head tilted slightly. "You finally remembered, didn't you?"

Aria clenched her jaw. She wasn't going to let him control the conversation.

"Why were you there that night?" she demanded. "At my house. Watching me."

Killian exhaled, his fingers tracing along her wrist where her pulse hammered. "I was always watching."

Her stomach twisted. What the hell did that mean?

"Did you have something to do with it?" she whispered. "With my parents' deaths?"

The silence stretched between them. Heavy. Suffocating.

Then, finally—

"No," he said. A lie? A truth? She couldn't tell.

"But I was there," he admitted. "And I know who was responsible."

Her breath hitched.

His fingers tightened ever so slightly, not in threat—but control.

"You're not ready for that truth yet," he murmured.

Fury ignited in her chest. "Don't act like you're protecting me."

He smirked. "But I am."

Aria shoved against him, and this time, he let her go.

"Tell me who did it," she demanded.

He tsked, stepping back into the shadows. "Not yet."

She clenched her fists. Every interaction with him was like trying to hold onto smoke.

"But I will give you something," he mused.

She narrowed her eyes as he slid a folded piece of paper onto the rusted crate beside him.

"What is it?"

"A lead."

She snatched it up, unfolding it quickly. A name was scrawled in ink—one she hadn't seen in years.

Her breath caught.

This was someone connected to the case. Someone who had disappeared after her parents' deaths.

She looked back up—but Killian was already gone.

Vanished into the night.

Leaving her with more questions.

More strings tying her to him.

And a growing certainty that this obsession?

It was never going to end.