Maya's POV
The taxi stopped in front of a building that looked like it was dying.
Broken windows. Rusted metal doors. Weeds growing through cracks in the concrete. This was Fifth Street, but not the part anyone talked about. This was the part people avoided.
"Out," the driver said.
I didn't move. "I want to go home."
"No, you don't. Not anymore. Your home isn't safe." He turned in his seat to look at me. Up close, I could see he was older than I thought. Maybe fifty. Tired eyes. A scar on his cheek. "Those men back there? They work for some very dangerous people. People who think your husband has something that belongs to them."
"Adrian's just a businessman. He sells—"
"He sells lies, Maya." The driver's voice was soft but hard at the same time. "And you're going to find out the truth today whether you like it or not."
The passenger door opened. I jumped.
A woman stood there. She was maybe forty, with short black hair and eyes that looked like they'd seen too much. She wore jeans and a leather jacket. Normal clothes. But she held herself like someone who knew how to fight.
"Maya Chen?" she asked.
I nodded, too scared to speak.
"I'm Detective Sarah Park. You're safe now." She held out her hand. "Come with me. We don't have much time."
"Detective? You're police?"
"Used to be. Now I'm something else." She glanced at the warehouse. "Your husband's inside. So are eight armed men who want him dead. We need to get you both out before—"
Gunshots.
Three loud bangs that made my ears ring.
Detective Park swore and grabbed my arm. "Move! Now!"
We ran toward the warehouse. My bare feet screamed in pain as they hit gravel and glass. I wanted to stop. Wanted to go back. But Detective Park pulled me forward.
More gunshots. Shouting. A scream that made my blood freeze.
"Adrian," I whispered.
We reached a side door. Detective Park kicked it open and pushed me inside. The warehouse was dark and smelled like rust and fear. I could hear voices echoing from somewhere deep inside. Angry voices.
"Stay behind me," Detective Park said. She pulled out a gun from inside her jacket. "And whatever happens, don't make a sound."
We moved through the darkness. My heart hammered so loud I was sure someone would hear it.
Then I saw them.
Adrian was on his knees in the middle of the warehouse floor. Blood ran down his face. His hands were tied behind his back. Three men stood around him with guns pointed at his head.
I almost screamed, but Detective Park clamped her hand over my mouth.
"Wait," she breathed in my ear. "Just wait."
One of the men kicked Adrian in the ribs. He fell sideways with a grunt.
"Where is it?" the man shouted. He was tall and bald with tattoos crawling up his neck. "Where's the money?"
"I told you," Adrian gasped. "I don't have it anymore."
"Liar!" Another kick. "You stole three million dollars from us. You think we're stupid?"
Three million dollars?
My legs went weak. Detective Park held me up.
"I paid it back," Adrian said. Blood dripped from his mouth. "Check the account. It's all there."
"We checked. The account is empty. You moved the money." Tattoo-Neck pressed his gun against Adrian's head. "Last chance. Where is it?"
"I don't know! Someone else must have—"
"Wrong answer."
The gun went off.
I screamed. I couldn't help it. The sound ripped out of my throat.
But Adrian was still alive. The bullet had hit the ground next to his head. A warning shot.
All the men turned toward us. Toward me.
"Well, well," Tattoo-Neck said, smiling. "The wife. How convenient."
Detective Park raised her gun. "Federal agent! Drop your weapons!"
The men laughed.
"Federal agent?" Tattoo-Neck said. "I don't see no badge. I see a washed-up cop who got kicked off the force for drinking."
Detective Park's jaw tightened. "Drop them. Now."
"Or what? You'll shoot all three of us before we shoot you? Before we shoot her?" He pointed his gun at me. "I don't think so."
Adrian lifted his head. When he saw me, his eyes went wide. "Maya? What are you—no. No, you can't be here. You need to run!"
"Shut up," one of the other men said, hitting Adrian with the back of his gun.
"Let her go," Adrian begged. Blood ran into his eyes. "Please. She doesn't know anything. She's innocent."
"Innocent?" Tattoo-Neck laughed. "Your wife's name is on the account, Adrian. She's been helping you steal from us this whole time."
"What?" I couldn't breathe. "That's not true. I don't know anything about any account!"
"Maya, listen to me." Adrian's voice was desperate. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never wanted you involved in this. I tried to keep you safe."
"Safe from what?" I was crying now. "What did you do?"
"He's a thief," Tattoo-Neck said. "And a liar. And now he's going to watch his pretty wife die before we kill him too."
He aimed his gun at my chest.
Detective Park fired first.
The bullet hit Tattoo-Neck in the shoulder. He spun and fell. The warehouse exploded with gunfire. Detective Park shoved me behind a metal container and shot back at the other men.
"Stay down!" she yelled.
I pressed myself against the cold metal, my ears ringing. Bullets pinged off the walls. Someone was screaming. Maybe it was me.
Then suddenly everything went quiet.
I peeked around the container.
Detective Park stood in the middle of the warehouse, her gun pointed at the last man standing. The other two were on the ground, not moving. Tattoo-Neck clutched his bleeding shoulder, his gun kicked away.
"It's over," Detective Park said.
But Adrian was shaking his head. "No. It's not over. They'll send more. They always send more."
"Then we disappear," Detective Park said. "Both of you. New names. New lives. I can arrange it."
"Run?" I stood up on shaking legs. "You want us to run? Someone needs to tell me what's happening! Right now!"
Adrian looked at me. Really looked at me. And for the first time in years, I saw real emotion in his eyes. Fear. Shame. Love.
"I work for them," he said quietly. "The people who own this warehouse. The people who just tried to kill us. I've been laundering money for them for five years. Moving it through fake companies. Hiding it from the police. I'm a criminal, Maya. I'm everything you never knew I was."
The words hit me like bullets.
Five years. Our entire marriage had been a lie.
"Why?" My voice broke. "Why would you do that?"
"Because I had no choice. They threatened to kill my sister if I didn't help them. So I helped. And then I helped some more. And then I couldn't stop." He closed his eyes. "I tried to get out. I really did. I moved the money to a safe place so I could use it as leverage. But someone found it first. Someone moved it again. And now they think you did it."
"But I didn't!"
"I know. But they don't believe me." He opened his eyes. "Maya, you need to run. Right now. These men? They're just the beginning. The people they work for won't stop until they find that money. And they think you have it."
My mind was spinning. Nothing made sense. The man I married—the man I'd loved for seven years—was a stranger.
Detective Park's phone buzzed. She checked it and her face went pale.
"We need to go. Now. They're sending backup. A lot of backup."
"What about him?" I pointed at Adrian.
"He comes with us or he dies here. Your choice, Maya."
I looked at Adrian. At the blood on his face. At the fear in his eyes.
This morning I'd woken up planning to divorce him.
Now I had to decide if I'd save his life.
"Maya," Adrian whispered. "I'm sorry. For everything. You deserved so much better than me."
"Yeah," I said. "I did."
I turned toward the door. Started walking away.
"Maya!" Adrian's voice cracked. "Please!"
I stopped. My hand on the doorframe.
Behind me, I heard sirens. Getting closer. And something else. Cars. Multiple cars. Screeching to a stop outside.
"They're here," Detective Park said. "Maya, we're out of time. What's it going to be?"
I looked back at Adrian one last time.
And that's when I saw it. On the floor next to him. A photo that must have fallen from his pocket.
I walked over and picked it up.
It was a picture of me. From our first date. I was laughing at something he'd said, my head thrown back, completely happy.
On the back, written in Adrian's handwriting: The day I fell in love with the girl who saved me.
My hands started shaking again.
The warehouse doors burst open. Men in black suits poured in. At least a dozen of them. All with guns.
And in front of them all stood someone I recognized.
My father.
"Hello, Maya," Dad said, smiling like we'd just run into each other at the grocery store. "I think it's time we had a family talk."