Page 86 of Captured Heart

Corey runs a hand through his hair. “So, the phosphorylation sites? Do we highlight them here or wait until the conclusion?”

I tilt my head as I think about it. “Conclusion. It ties in better with our findings about kinase inhibition.”

He nods, jotting down notes, and for a moment, I feel like myself again. The thrill of discovery, the rush of piecing together a puzzle. It’s why I chose this field. But then my thoughts drift to Alex...like they always do.

I don’t know where he is or what happened to him after that night. I haven’t asked. I’m too scared to. But not knowing is gnawing at me. He gave up everything to make sure I got out, and now...he’s gone.

I shake the thought away, forcing myself to focus on Corey’s questions. We continue finalizing our document, and I call it quits just before five. We pack up and I head straight to the gym. It’s a struggle, but I’m trying to get back into my old routine.

I focus all my negative emotions into my workout, pushing myself to the max. My muscles are sore and weary when I’mdone. After a shower, I head back to my parent’s house. I still can’t bring myself to be alone at night because nights are the worst.

Every creak sets me on edge, every tap on the window freaks me out. I’m petrified that one of Victor’s men is going to kick the door down when I least expect it, so my grandparents’ house is out of the question. I feel too vulnerable and unsafe there.

When I open the front door, I’m greeted by the familiar warmth of home. My mom is in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepares dinner. My dad is in the dining room, smiling briefly when he sees me.

My smile fades when I walk in further and spot Detective Collins sitting at the table, the prosecutor, Samuel O’Malley, beside him.

“We were just discussing Victor’s case,” Collins says, motioning for me to sit beside my dad.

Samuel leans forward, his hands clasped tightly. “Your father has provided significant evidence. Financial records, communications, even some details of their operations. But it’s not airtight. It paints a strong picture of Victor’s empire, but without a witness to confirm key details, there’s enough wiggle room for his defense to argue reasonable doubt. We need someone who can testify firsthand about Victor’s orders, his crimes, and how he runs his organization.”

My dad shakes his head, his face hardening with frustration. “I’ve given you everything I have. Every transaction, every meeting I could track. Those files have pictures of dead bodies, people beaten to a pulp...or tortured. How is that not enough?”

The prosecutor exhales, his gaze sympathetic. “It’s compelling evidence, but none of it directly ties back to Victor. The photos don’t show who pulled the trigger or even who gave the orders. And the financial records, while incriminating, don’t explicitly name him. Without a witness to confirm that Victorwas behind these actions, his defense can claim those bodies were the result of rogue underlings or outside influences. They’ll argue he’s not responsible.”

“Mr. Akiyama, we know the truth,” Collins offers. “We know Victor’s at the center of all this. But knowing it and proving it in court are two very different things. His lawyers are ruthless. They’ll tear apart any evidence that isn’t ironclad.”

My dad’s hands curl into fists on the table, his knuckles white. “So, what? I put all our lives at risk for nothing? He just gets to walk free because no one’s brave enough to stand up to him?”

“Afraid so.” Samuel’s expression hardens. “If we can’t get someone to testify, that’s exactly what could happen. We’ve already seen how far Victor’s reach goes. His men are too scared to turn on him, and without that testimony, we’re left with circumstantial evidence. It’s not enough to guarantee a conviction.”

A heavy silence settles over the room, and it feels like my lungs are closing in on me. The thought of Victor walking free after everything he’s done makes my stomach churn. I look at my dad, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his failure, and a mixture of anger and helplessness wells up inside me.

I sit there silent, my heart pounding. My mind races with questions I’m too afraid to voice. I want to ask about Alex, if they’ve tried to ask him to testify. But the words stick in my throat. I can’t bring myself to say his name, not when I don’t even know where he is. Not when I know how dangerous it would be for him to take that stand.

“What if I testified?” I blurt.

All three of them turn to look at me, my dad’s face paling instantly. “Katelyn, no.”

“I mean it,” I insist, sitting up straighter. “I can tell them what Victor did to me. The kidnapping. The threats. Everything. Wouldn’t that help?”

Samuel exchanges a look with Collins before speaking. “It would, but only to a point. Your testimony would be crucial in convicting Victor of your abduction, but it doesn’t connect him to his larger operation. We need someone on the inside who knows how he runs things, how orders are given, and who can corroborate the evidence provided. Without that, we still wouldn’t have enough to take down the entire organization.”

“But if it helps at all...” My voice falters as I glance at my dad. “If it keeps him locked away longer—”

“It’s not enough,” Collins interrupts gently. “Your bravery is commendable, Miss Akiyama, but Victor’s network is vast. To dismantle it, we need to hit him where it hurts most. That means someone who can speak to the financials, the murders, the trafficking. We need someone who was part of it.”

I sink back into my chair, crossing my arms to contain my frustration. I want to help. I want to do something. But once again, I feel powerless.

Samuel clears his throat, his tone shifting to something more formal, almost clinical. “Without a witness testimony, we’ll have to rely solely on the evidence we’ve gathered so far. The problem is, while it’s strong, it’s not conclusive enough to secure a conviction on the major charges—racketeering, trafficking, murder. At best, we might get him on lesser charges like possession of illegal firearms or financial crimes, but even then, his lawyers will push for a plea deal. He could be out in a few years.”

My stomach drops. “A few years? After everything he’s done?”

Samuel sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not ideal, but it’s the reality. He has the resources to drag this out for years, wearing down the system until he walks free.”

Collins takes the news with a bit more optimism. “Look, we’re not giving up, Mr. Akiyama. We’re still working every angle, but we’ve got a clock ticking here. If we don’t move soon, his lawyers will argue for a dismissal on the grounds of insufficient evidence.”

A cold chill washes over me. The idea of Victor walking free, of him coming after my family again, is too much to bear. I glance at my dad, his face hard with anger and fear. I glance at Collins, his weariness clear in the slump of his shoulders. And then at the prosecutor, whose calm demeanor can’t mask the desperation in his voice. They all feel as hopeless as I do.

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