Chapter Six: The Cost of Breathing Free
The city was loud.
Not in the usual sense—horns and traffic and laughter leaking from rooftop bars—but loud in Kael's head. Every footstep echoed. Every whisper of wind against brick scraped like warning.
He clutched the leather folder tighter under his arm as he pushed through the apartment building doors. He hadn't even bothered to fix the lock. What was the point?
His place still reeked of violation. The mess looked worse in the daylight—a stark reminder that his home, his safety, had been shredded down to its bones. It wasn't a break-in.
It was a message.
And now that message was signed in every overturned chair and every file that had been torn apart but somehow, somehow, hadn't revealed the flash drive.
He dropped the grocery bag on the counter, pulled out the instant coffee, and started boiling water like it would keep him sane.
The folder—now his lifeline—sat unopened. He needed to deliver it to someone who could help. Or at least still cared. Elias.
Kael checked the burner, then his phone. Still no word. He hesitated, then tapped out a message: "Need to meet. Urgent." Sent.
While waiting, he flipped on the TV to background noise, half-hoping for some glimpse of the world moving on like nothing had happened. News anchors chatted about a scandal in city council, a car crash on the east side, and then—
"...Still no leads in the disappearance of Matteo DiStefano, son of real estate tycoon Marco DiStefano, following his sentencing three days ago…"
Kael muted the volume.
He didn't need the reminder.
Matteo wasn't just gone. He was buried by people with enough money and power to erase his existence. And Kael had pulled the trigger—with nothing more than a courtroom and the truth.
It was enough to put a target on his back.
The water hissed as it boiled. He poured it over the gritty powder in his mug, watching steam curl upward, ghostlike. He sipped and tasted ash.
Outside, the sky was bruising with evening clouds.
His phone buzzed. Elias.
"Half hour. Old corner."
Kael grabbed the folder, locked the door behind him, and disappeared into the city.
Thirty Minutes Later – The Usual Meeting Spot
The bench sat on a crumbling corner across from an abandoned shoe repair shop. It had once been their neutral ground—Kael and Elias, back when cases were just cases and danger came with a warrant, not a death sentence.
Elias was already there, hands deep in a hoodie pocket, head turning at every car that passed. He looked tired. Gaunt.
When Kael approached, he stood, relief and worry crashing across his face.
"Jesus, you look like hell," Elias muttered.
"Yeah, well... hell's been trying to hire me," Kael replied.
They sat. No small talk.
Kael handed him the folder. "Everything I have. Backups, testimonies, notes I didn't trust to digital."
Elias flipped through it, eyes widening. "This could reopen the case. Matteo's father will lose his mind."
"He already has," Kael said. "And now Moretti's involved."
Elias blinked. "Moretti? You're sure?"
Kael nodded. "Tried to kill me. Then changed his mind. Now he wants me alive. Which, honestly, is more terrifying."
Elias ran a hand over his face. "What the hell did you get yourself into?"
Kael looked at him—really looked at him—and said, "I think I met the devil."
Elias raised an eyebrow.
"And she saved my life. Twice."
Elsewhere – A Watcher in the Shadows
From the rooftop of a nearby building, a man in a gray coat lowered his camera lens and dialed a number.
"He gave the documents to a cop-looking guy. East side bench. Want me to follow?"
A pause. Then a voice, cold and smooth: "No. Let them play. But don't lose sight of the lawyer."
Click.
Back at Kael's Apartment – Later That Night
Kael returned to silence.
He showered. Ate instant noodles. Pinned the curtains closed like they could stop bullets. The city outside was still alive, but he no longer felt part of it.
He tried to sleep.
But the sound of the drug deal haunted him—those two kids in the grocery store aisle. Just a slice of the rot that had spread into every corner of the city.
He couldn't fix it.
But maybe… maybe he could burn it all down and start over.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One text.
"See? Even the free man comes home."
His blood ran cold.
He turned slowly.
And there, on the windowsill inside the apartment, sat a single black rose.
Chapter Six Continued:Web of Snakes
Elias drove with one hand on the wheel and the other clutched tightly around Kael's folder.
He kept checking the rearview mirror. Every few blocks. It had become a habit he didn't remember forming.
The documents inside the folder were damning. Not just about Matteo DiStefano, but about something bigger. Hidden among the court notes and private testimonies was a trail of offshore accounts. Dummy companies. Names he didn't recognize—until he did.
One of them was linked to a Moretti-owned shipping firm.
Another to a law enforcement fund.
And another… to his own precinct.
He tried to tell himself he was wrong. That it had to be a coincidence. Money laundering left footprints, sure—but sometimes people's names got swept into places they didn't belong. Right?
He pulled into the underground garage beneath his apartment, parked in the far corner, and took the back stairwell up. A paranoid route—but tonight, paranoia felt smart.
Inside his apartment, he bolted the door, pulled the blinds, and sat at his desk with the folder open and his laptop glowing in front of him.
He dug deeper.
The first name that popped up was one he hadn't expected: Lieutenant Gerald Hayes. His boss. Clean-cut. Straight-laced. Publicly adored.
He found a wire transfer from a Moretti front to a company owned by Hayes's cousin—under a fake business name.
Next: Detective Ward. The same man who told Elias two days ago to "let the DiStefano case go cold."
Moretti wasn't just bribing politicians.
He was paying the police force like they were part of his payroll.
Elias leaned back in his chair, a sick wave crashing over him.
He'd always suspected corruption ran deeper than what they admitted in the morning meetings—but this? This was a cancer wrapped around the city's heart.
And he was holding proof.
He reached for his phone to call Kael—but it buzzed before he could.
Unknown Number: "Stop digging, detective. Before the dirt ends up over your grave."
Elias's mouth went dry.
Another text came in immediately after.
"You're not as invisible as you think."
He stood, heart racing. Moved to the window and peered through the blinds.
A black SUV idled across the street.
The same one that had appeared outside his precinct yesterday.
He cursed under his breath and turned off every light in the room. Laptop shut. Folder hidden. Gun drawn from the drawer under the table.
Then he sat in the dark and waited.
For what—he didn't know.
Maybe for the SUV to leave.
Maybe for the knock on the door that wouldn't be police.
Midnight – Unknown Location
Marco Moretti sat behind a grand oak desk in a room lined with books he never read. A thick cigar burned slowly in his hand, staining the air with bitter smoke.
Across from him, a younger man with slicked-back hair and nervous eyes adjusted the cuffs of his thousand-dollar suit.
"You said the lawyer had no ties," Marco said flatly.
"He didn't. We didn't expect the detective to dig this deep—"
"You didn't expect a rat to do a rat's job?" Marco slammed his hand down, the ashtray jumping. "You underestimate everyone but me. That's why you're still wearing that pathetic suit and I'm sitting behind this desk."
The younger man dropped his gaze.
Marco leaned back, exhaling smoke.
"Let him keep digging," he said after a long moment. "Every step deeper puts him further from help."
"And when he gets too close?"
Marco smiled. "Then we bury him next to the lawyer."
Stay tuned lovelies.....