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Liam's Pov
I straightened in my chair, my pulse kicking up. "John… this is enough to keep the case alive."
"Found it in an abandoned office across the street," he explained.
"The tenants vacated the day before the exchange but the cameras were only removed the next morning after the exchange. Cops didn't bother—assumed the cams were gone since the tenant had vacated before the incident night. I traced it back to the guy who managed the space. Pulled the footage from his hard drive."
I leaned forward, staring at the screen. The cops hadn't missed it because they were incompetent.
They had missed it because they thought there was nothing there to begin with. John had dug where no one else thought to.
"You just handed me gold," I said.
He wasn't done. "Open the third file."
I clicked—and my eyes widened. Stacks of cash sprawled across the floor. Piles of white powder bagged and ready. Not cocaine but lactose.
The same powder seized in the car. They were neatly packed like professional work.
John's voice stayed steady. "Inside Hale's house. That's all I've got for now. But I'll keep digging." And hung up without another word. Typical
For a moment, I didn't speak. The adrenaline from the video, the photos, the evidence—it was a rush, the kind I had been waiting for.
[John didn't let you down, Liam,] Eve said gently.
A smirk spread across my face. "Of course he didn't. He's John Wick." I leaned back, closing the file, adrenaline humming through my veins. "And he just handed me my first golden bullet."
For the first time all day, I let myself breathe.
Tomorrow's dismissal hearing? It was in the bag.
Hale's face was crystal clear in the footage. Him, behind the wheel, reaching out, taking possession of the cocaine. No tricks. No blurry shadows. No legal gymnastics could erase that image from a judge's mind. I finally had leverage—something solid, something undeniable.
[So the case is over then?] Eve's calm voice drifted through my HUD.
I shook my head, a faint smirk tugging at my lips. "Not yet. Hale's cocaine problem is one thing, but there's something bigger hiding in the background. And for that, I need to know more about the lactose powder. Tonight, I'll get it broken down at the lab."
[And until then?] she pressed.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. "Until then… nothing else to do."
[What about Seraphina?] Eve's tone carried an edge of curiosity, maybe even concern.
"She'll have to wait," I said firmly. "If Hale's just running with cocaine, then this is more than enough to nail him. But if the lactose powder turns out to be something else… if it means he's dabbling in something more than drugs—" I exhaled slowly, "—then she comes into play."
For now, she stayed in the shadows of my plan.
I rose from my chair, stretching the stiffness from my shoulders, and picked up the evidence bag containing the powder. Its weight felt heavier than it should have been.
This little packet might decide whether Hale went down as just another cocain peddler or something far more dangerous.
Before leaving, I stopped by Beth's desk. She was still working, her eyes flicking over her screen as fast as her fingers across the keyboard.
"Beth," I said, "where's the dismissal hearing being held tomorrow?"
She looked up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Judge Harrington's chambers. Second floor, Manhattan Criminal Courthouse. Ten a.m. sharp."
I nodded. "Thanks."
She gave me a faint smile, then returned to her work.
With that, I headed toward the elevators. The metallic doors closed around me with a soft chime, and the hum of machinery carried me down
My bike waited, gleaming faintly under the dim lights. I slid the evidence packet safely into my bag, strapped on my helmet, and swung into the seat.
The engine roared to life, a familiar growl that echoed in the cavernous garage. I pulled out, the city lights bleeding into the night sky as I rode toward home.
Tomorrow, Hale would stand in front of a judge with nowhere to hide.
But tonight—the real work began.
The familiar hum of the bike's engine cut off as I rolled into the basement of my apartment building.
The air down here was cool and tinged with the faint smell of motor oil, gasoline, and damp concrete.
I eased the bike into my reserved spot, let the kickstand down with a metallic clink, and removed my helmet.
I lingered for a moment, running a hand through my sweat-mussed hair. The day had been long, exhausting, and full of surprises.
The discovery of the hidden footage… Hale's face captured crystal clear with the cocaine exchange… it should have been the weight that broke him and yet, despite that win, my body still carried the fatigue of using the Sharingan earlier.
A reminder that my limits weren't theoretical—they could shut me down in the middle of the street if I wasn't careful.
[You're still running low.] Eve's voice pulsed gently in my HUD, her usual precision softening slightly. [Your vitals are steady, but the strain hasn't fully worn off.]
"I'll live," I muttered, tugging my jacket off and slinging it over my arm.
"Besides, it feels like someone is waiting upstairs." I muttered looking at the white SUV parked nearby
[Looks like Emma is back]
That made me smile despite the exhaustion. Emma's presence in the apartment had grown so natural that I sometimes forgot she wasn't permanent furniture. She had a knack for filling the space with warmth in ways I never did. My apartment before her was… efficient. Organized. Clean. Now, it carried laughter, clutter from her sketches and coding notes, and the occasional pizza box stacked on the counter.
I stepped into the elevator, pressed the button, and leaned back against the polished steel walls as the car ascended and the ride was short.
When the elevator chimed and the doors slid open, the first thing that hit me was the smell. Rich tomato sauce. Melted cheese. A warm, doughy sweetness that could only mean one thing.
"Pizza," I murmured with a grin, unlocking the apartment door.
Sure enough, the sight that greeted me was Emma, perched cross-legged on the couch, a cardboard pizza box open on the coffee table in front of her. The TV flickered faintly with some streaming sitcom rerun she probably wasn't even watching. She looked up, and her entire face brightened in a way that erased my fatigue better than any nap ever could.
"Hey, stranger," she said, waving a slice at me. "Thought you might want real food for once instead of… whatever you call the burnt coffee and vending machine chips you live on."
I chuckled, stepping in and setting my helmet down by the door. "Guilty. But in my defense, those vending machine chips kept me alive during law school."
Emma made a face, wrinkling her nose dramatically. "Barely. If your immune system survived that diet, you deserve a medal."
"Or maybe a lawsuit against the vending machine company," I countered, loosening my tie and tossing it over a chair.
She laughed, the sound bubbling with genuine ease. Moments like this felt rare in my world—like little sanctuaries.
I joined her on the couch, grabbing a slice from the box. The cheese stretched stubbornly until I bit through it, and I let the warmth settle in my chest. For a few minutes, neither of us spoke. We just ate, letting the hum of the TV fill the silence.
After the second slice, Emma leaned back and sighed contentedly. "Okay, not to brag, but I picked the perfect combo tonight. Pepperoni, mushrooms, black olives. Gourmet level."
I gave her a sidelong look. "You're definitely bragging."
"Of course. Someone has to" She poked me lightly with her toe.
I just shook my head, smiling. It was an old rhythm between us—her poking, me deflecting. Somehow, it worked.
Dinner slipped into casual small talk. I told her about Beth's unorthodox social media digging, which made Emma snort and call her "ride or die assistant material." She told me about her game's post-launch buzz, how the new patch had been well-received, and that her community Discord server had hit a new record of online members.
"It's weird," she said, fiddling with the pizza crust. "Seeing something you built with your brain—something that only existed in code and sketches—suddenly out in the world being… alive. Like it doesn't even belong to me anymore."
I watched her quietly for a moment, appreciating the glow in her eyes. "It still belongs to you. They're just borrowing it."
She smiled at that, softer this time. "Thanks."
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