Maya's POV
The knife was in my hand before I was fully awake.
Someone was knocking. Hard. Aggressive. The kind of knocking that said open this door or I'll break it down.
My phone showed 8:47 AM. I'd barely slept three hours after that threatening text. My body ached from sleeping with one eye open, jumping at every sound.
The knocking continued. Louder now.
I grabbed my phone, ready to call 911, and crept toward the door. Through the peephole, I saw two men.
The first was older—maybe mid-forties, built like he ate nails for breakfast. Military posture. Eyes that scanned everything like he was calculating threats. His hand rested near his jacket in a way that screamed armed.
The second man made my breath catch.
Tall. Dark hair perfectly styled despite the early hour. A suit that probably cost more than my car. But it was his face that stopped me—sharp cheekbones, dark eyes that looked like they could freeze fire, and an expression of such controlled rage that I instinctively stepped back from the door.
This had to be Daniel Chen. Emma's brother. The billionaire Carmen mentioned.
And he looked ready to murder someone.
"Ms. Reeves." His voice cut through the door like ice. "I know you're in there. My grandmother hired you. We need to talk. Now."
Not may we talk or could we talk. Just now. Like I was an employee he could order around.
My cop instincts warned me not to open the door. These men were dangerous—I could feel it. But Carmen had promised Daniel would come. And if I wanted answers about Emma, I needed him.
I unlocked the door but kept the chain engaged. "It's not even nine o'clock."
"My sister is dead." Daniel's eyes locked onto mine, and I saw something beneath the ice—raw, bleeding pain that he was barely holding together. "I don't care what time it is."
Fair point.
I closed the door, unlatched the chain, and opened it fully. Daniel walked in like he owned the place, the older man following close behind. Both scanned my tiny apartment in seconds—the unmade bed, the empty whiskey bottle, my laptop still open with Emma's photo on the screen.
Daniel's eyes lingered on the photo. Something cracked in his expression before the ice slammed back into place.
"This is James Lin, my head of security." Daniel's voice was back to cold control. "Anything you tell me, you can say in front of him."
James nodded at me. His eyes were kinder than Daniel's, but no less sharp. "Ma'am."
"Your grandmother called me last night," I said, crossing my arms. "She said you'd want to meet."
"Want is the wrong word." Daniel turned those freezing eyes back to me. "I need you to investigate my sister's murder. The police won't. They've already closed the case. Called it an accident." His hands clenched into fists. "She was seventeen years old. She called me two nights before she died, terrified, saying she'd seen something horrible. And now they expect me to believe she accidentally fell off a cliff?"
The pain in his voice made my chest tight. I knew that feeling—the desperate need for someone to acknowledge that the person you loved didn't just die. They were killed.
"I found her body," I said quietly. "I saw the defensive wounds on her hands. The wrong angle of impact. The shoes placed too far from the edge. It was murder."
Daniel's eyes widened slightly. "You saw all that?"
"I was a homicide detective in Los Angeles for six years. I know what murder looks like." I paused. "I also know what a cover-up looks like. And Chief Harris is definitely covering something up."
"Why would he—" Daniel stopped. "You think the police are involved?"
"I think this town has secrets people will kill to protect." I met his eyes. "Your sister found out one of those secrets. That's why she's dead."
Daniel was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "My grandmother said you were framed by a corrupt partner. That you lost your badge for trying to do the right thing."
Heat crept up my neck. "She told you that?"
"She investigated you before hiring you. Carmen doesn't take chances." Daniel's expression shifted slightly—not quite sympathy, but understanding. "You know what it's like when the system fails. When the people who are supposed to protect you become the threat."
I did. God, I did.
"Emma was three years old when our parents died." Daniel's voice went rough. "Car accident. Drunk driver. I was seventeen. The state wanted to put her in foster care, but I fought for custody. Raised her while building my company. She was—" He stopped, jaw clenching. "She was everything good in my life. The only person who saw me as Daniel, not the Ice King everyone else sees."
The nickname fit. But underneath that frozen exterior was a brother who'd given up everything to raise his little sister. Who'd been both parent and sibling. Who'd loved her enough to become a father at seventeen.
My heart cracked a little.
"I'll take the case," I said. "But you need to understand—investigating means making enemies. People in this town don't want the truth exposed. They've already threatened me." I showed him my phone with last night's text and photo. "Someone was watching me through my window."
James's face darkened. "That was taken last night?"
"Around midnight. Right after my brother showed up warning me to leave town."
"Your brother?" Daniel's eyes sharpened. "Brian Reeves? He runs a construction company here."
"You know him?"
"I know everyone who matters in Crimson Bay. I've been trying to figure out who might want Emma dead." Daniel pulled out his own phone. "Brian Reeves's company has done work for Mayor Victoria Ashford. Including renovations on the yacht club where Emma volunteered."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"Three major projects in the last two years. All paid through Victoria's charity foundation." Daniel showed me his screen—contracts, payment records, photos of Brian's crew working on buildings I recognized. "If your brother is warning you to leave, he knows something."
No. Not Brian. He couldn't be part of this.
But the bruise on his face. His terror. They're always watching.
"He might be a witness," I said, my voice tight. "Or a victim. Not everyone involved in corruption is there by choice."
Daniel studied me. "You're defending him."
"He's my brother."
"Emma was my sister." Daniel's voice went cold again. "If your brother knows something about her death and didn't speak up, I don't care what his reasons are. He's guilty."
"Everyone isn't black and white—"
"Murder is." Daniel stepped closer, his eyes burning despite the ice. "Someone killed Emma. Someone threw her off that cliff and staged it to look like an accident. I don't care if they were forced or scared or following orders. I care about justice."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to defend Brian. But Daniel was right—Emma deserved justice. No matter who got hurt in the process.
"Fine," I said. "We investigate everyone. Including my brother. But I run this case my way. You don't order me around. You don't control how I work. This is my investigation."
Daniel's eyebrow rose. "I'm paying you—"
"I don't care if you're paying me a million dollars. I'm not your employee." I stood my ground even though he towered over me. "I've had enough of men trying to control me. I work alone, or I don't work at all."
Silence stretched between us. James watched with what might have been amusement.
Finally, Daniel nodded. "Agreed. But I'm involved in every step. I'm not sitting on the sidelines while someone else investigates my sister's murder."
"That's not how private investigations work—"
"That's how this one works." Daniel's voice went flat. "I have resources you need. Access to people who won't talk to a disgraced ex-cop. Money to get things done quickly. You want to solve this case? You need me."
I hated that he was right.
"Partners then," I said. "Equal partners. You don't give orders, I don't shut you out."
Daniel extended his hand. "Partners."
I shook it. His grip was firm, warm, and for just a second, the ice in his eyes thawed enough for me to see the devastated brother underneath.
"Emma made a video two days before she died," Daniel said, pulling out his phone. "I need you to watch it."
He pressed play. Emma's face filled the screen—young, scared, looking over her shoulder.
"Daniel, if you're seeing this, something happened to me." Her voice shook. "I saw something at the yacht club fundraiser. Something horrible. People being moved in containers. They looked drugged. Some were kids, Daniel. Kids younger than me." Tears streamed down her face. "I took pictures but I hid them somewhere safe. I can't go to the police—Mayor Victoria runs everything. I don't know who to trust. But I know what I saw. And I think they know I saw it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I dragged you into this. Just—if something happens, make sure people know the truth. Make sure those kids get saved."
The video ended.
I felt sick. Trafficking. Kids. Mayor Victoria.
"Where are the pictures Emma mentioned?" I asked.
"I don't know. I've searched her room, her locker, her car. Nothing." Daniel's voice was raw. "She said she hid them somewhere safe. But safe could mean anywhere."
"We need to—"
My phone rang. Unknown number. Again.
I answered on speaker. "Hello?"
"Ms. Reeves." A woman's voice, smooth and cold. "This is Mayor Victoria Ashford. I understand you've been asking questions about Emma Chen's unfortunate accident."
Daniel's entire body went rigid.
"I'm simply concerned about a young woman's death," I said carefully.
"Of course. We all are. That's why I'd like to invite you to lunch today. One o'clock at the yacht club. I think it's important we discuss your concerns." Her voice held a smile I could hear. "I'd hate for any misunderstandings to spread through our lovely town. Bring Mr. Chen if you'd like. I'm sure he has questions too."
It was a trap. Obviously a trap.
"I'll be there," I said.
"Wonderful. Oh, and Ms. Reeves? Please tell your brother hello for me. I haven't seen Brian in a few days. I do hope he's well."
The call ended.
Daniel and I stared at each other.
"She knows we're together," James said quietly. "She probably has someone watching this building right now."
"And she just threatened my brother." My hands shook with rage. "She's telling me she has him."
Daniel's phone buzzed. He looked at the screen and went white.
"What?" I demanded.
He showed me the text. From an unknown number.
A photo of Brian tied to a chair, duct tape over his mouth, terror in his eyes.
And the message: "Lunch at one. Come alone or he dies. Bring the video."
My world tilted.
They had my brother. They wanted Emma's video. And they'd kill Brian if we didn't surrender everything.
But if we gave them the video—the only evidence of what Emma saw—we'd lose our only chance at justice.
Daniel's eyes met mine, and I saw the same impossible choice reflected there.
Save my brother, or save Emma's case.
I couldn't have both.