Meanwhile, the morning light did little to ease the suffocating darkness inside the abandoned apartment building where Catalina, Mateo, and Pep had spent the night.

After hours of fitful, terrified sleep on the cold, damp floor, they had woken up to the same miserable reality. The three of them were still crammed inside the tiny storage backroom at the rear of one of the rooms. The space was so small that when Mateo shifted after waking, he could barely move without bumping into the rusted shelves lining the walls.

The room smelled horrible. Mold. Rotten wood. Dirty water.

Catalina stood pressed against the wall, her joints aching from the rigid, sleepless night, looking visibly disgusted. Her expensive coat brushed against the stained concrete, and every few seconds she glanced downward nervously as scratching noises echoed from somewhere nearby.

Rats. She could hear them moving inside the walls.

She clenched her jaw tightly to stop herself from screaming.

"This place is revolting," she whispered furiously.

Mateo remained crouched near the door, listening carefully to the sounds outside. "Lower your voice."

Catalina shot him a venomous glare but stayed quiet. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Across from them, Pep looked completely unaffected by the miserable conditions, looking just as rested as if he had slept in a five-star hotel. Despite the cramped room, he leaned lazily against the wall with calm indifference, as though hiding beside rats and sewage was perfectly normal to him.

Outside, distant police sirens echoed faintly through the building, signaling that the morning shift of the manhunt had begun.

Then came footsteps. Someone was entering the room.

Mateo immediately stiffened.

Catalina’s breath caught in her throat.

The footsteps drew closer until they stopped somewhere just outside the backroom door.

Catalina pressed a trembling hand against her mouth.

A rat suddenly squealed loudly inside the wall beside her, nearly making her jump out of her skin.

Then...

"Clear over here!" A voice shouted from farther inside the apartment.

The footsteps moved away again.

A few moments later, the sound of police radios and boots slowly faded into the distance, and silence returned.

After two hours, Mateo released a shaky breath. "I think they’re gone."

Pep didn’t move from his spot against the wall, but his dark eyes slowly dragged over to Mateo.

"They’re gone for now," Pep corrected. "But they’ll sweep the perimeter again. A joint task force doesn’t just pack up and go home because one room looked empty."

Catalina pulled her hand away from her mouth, her palms slick with cold sweat. Her composure was completely shattered. She was a Windsor; she belonged in high-society ballrooms and luxury boutiques, not cowering in a dilapidated, mold-infested hole.

"We need to get out of here," Catalina hissed, her voice trembling with a volatile mix of panic and rage. "Mateo, call my mother. Or my father. They have to arrange a private car. They have to get me out of here before those cops come back again!"

"Your father is probably locking down his accounts as we speak, corporate princess," Pep interjected, a cruel, mocking smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means you are on your own."

"Then what are we supposed to do? I am not staying in this disgusting place for another second!"

"We wait until night." Pep said. "Then we use the back alleyways to move out of here. But we might need a distraction, if the police are still in the area?"

Pep stared at them.

"For the right price, I can make the whole district burn," Pep murmured, his bottomless gaze locking onto Catalina. "But distractions cost money, Miss Windsor. Serious money. And right now, you look a little short on cash."

Catalina stared at him in disbelief.

"Nonsense. I have plenty of cash."

Pep gave a low chuckle. His dark eyes remained fixed on her.

Catalina hated the way he looked at her. Like prey.

"I can pay you," she snapped quietly. "When this is over, I’ll transfer whatever amount you want."

Pep laughed.

"You think this is funny?" she snapped, her voice rising dangerously. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

Pep’s expression did not change.

"I know exactly who you are," he replied calmly. "A spoiled brat with no real use outside of comfort and protection."

The words hit harder than a slap.

Mateo rubbed a hand over his face in frustration.

"Enough," he hissed quietly. "Fighting each other won’t help."

Catalina turned on him instantly.

"Oh, so now you want to play leader?" she spat. "This entire disaster happened because you hired this idiot!"

Mateo’s expression darkened.

"Don’t talk to me like that."

Catalina didn’t wait for another argument.

"I’m not staying here," she said coldly.

"Don’t be stupid, Cat."

"I’m not being stupid," she shot back. "I’m being realistic. If we stay in this rat-infested hole any longer, we’ll get caught anyway."

From his spot against the damp wall, Pep watched them quietly, his pocketknife folding shut with a dull click. "That’s exactly what will happen if you walk out in broad daylight," he said.

​Catalina turned sharply toward him, her jaw clenched. "So what? We rot in here instead? The police just cleared this floor. If anyone spots us outside, we’ll just give an excuse for why we’re in the district."

​A heavy silence settled over the cramped room.

​Mateo exhaled sharply, running a frantic hand through his disheveled hair. He was exhausted.

​"She has a point," he muttered.

​Catalina didn’t even give him a second glance. She was already moving out of the storage room, her focus entirely on escaping the suffocating stench of the apartment. "I’m leaving."

​Mateo hesitated, glancing back at Pep. For a moment, it looked like he might stay behind and take his chances with the hitman. But as Catalina’s footsteps faded down the hall, he cursed under his breath and hurried after her.

​Pep didn’t follow. He merely watched them go, a dark, smirk playing on his lips as he melted back into the shadows of the abandoned building.

Catalina walked fast, her heels crunching over debris as she headed toward what looked like the main road.

​They crossed the last stretch of broken pavement, stepping out into the open air... and stopped dead in their tracks.

​The color instantly drained from Catalina’s face. Mateo’s breath caught violently in his throat.

​Standing just twenty yards away, leaning casually against the hood of a sleek, black SUV, was Marco. He looked completely unbothered, checking his watch as if he had all the time in the world.

​Unknown to them, Pamela’s high-tech perimeter defense had done its job perfectly. The motion sensors she had deployed around the district had flagged three distinct heat signatures moving inside the building an hour ago.

Marco slowly lifted his gaze toward them. Then he smiled.

Mateo instinctively took a step backward.

"Run," he whispered hoarsely.

But it was already too late. Four police officers suddenly emerged from the opposite side of the street, with their weapons drawn.

"Police! Don’t move!"

Catalina gasped sharply.

At almost the same moment, a white news van screeched around the corner.

The side doors flew open. A cameraman jumped out first, followed by an aggressively excited female reporter clutching a microphone.