Page 131 of Fallen Empire
I couldn’t keep up. They were moving so fast.
“There. Right there.” Ben said sharply.
One frame maximized and I squinted my eyes to see better.
Millie. Standing at the crosswalk, coffee in one hand, bag in the other. But it wasn’t her that stole my breath.
It was the man behind her.
Alex—no, Aleksei—holding the door open, smiling as he said something to her.
Casual. Calm. Like they were old friends running into each other on the street.
My stomach turned. And in that moment, I realized I’d failed her. Because she was blind. I knew who Alex was, but Millie never even saw his face. She never knew what danger looked like in a smile. And it was my silence that put her there. My name. My legacy. I’d single-handedly made her a target.
And I never gave her a warning sign. I watched as her smile faltered. As realization crept in too late. Because what appeared to be a kind man holding the door open…
Was her demise dressed in Armani.
A predator cloaked in charm.
And by the time she sensed the danger, she was already marked.
Already his.
Then a SUV pulled into frame, blocking the view. Then another. By the time the lens cleared, she was gone.
“That feed is from a moving vehicle,” Nic said. “Cell tower triangulation confirms. Switching to transit surveillance now. Give me ten seconds.”
Jaxson moved beside her, tension radiating off him in waves. “Get out of the phone system. Now. Before they trace it back.”
“I’m already out,” she said. “We’re clean.”
But none of us were breathing easy. Because we’d seen him.
And it confirmed what we already knew—she was in Alex’s hands now.
“They went toward the industrial side,” Ben said, his brows pulling together. “There are over a dozen abandoned buildings in that radius.”
“We’ll be going in blind. It’ll take time,” Jaxson said.
“Time we don’t have,” Ben replied.
I closed my eyes, whispering a silent prayer.
Please, God. Show us where.
But as the words I wasn’t saying filtered through my thoughts, something else slipped through—something darker. A vision, like a reel playing in slow motion. A tall figure, backlit and faceless. Just a silhouette, sharp and cold. He turned, like he was leaving, and said the words that sent ice through my veins:
“If you crawl your way back to life… maybe you can save her before I bury her at Park Place. Don’t pass Go. Don’t collect two hundred dollars.”
My eyes flew open.
It wasn’t a dream.
Alex had been at the hospital.
He’d stood over me. Spoken to me.
