(POV: Psyche)

  The city lights glittered against the gss.

  From up here, the world still looked alive.

  But for me—

  It had already stopped spinning.

  I sat curled against the edge of the couch, knees tucked to my chest, staring out at the sea of golden windows blinking in the distance.

  I was trapped here.

  And I still didn’t know why.

  No phone. No news. No expnation.

  Just silence.

  A silence so thick it pressed against my ribs.

  Kevin had been gone all day. No messages. No sign of when he’d return.

  And yet—

  I never stopped feeling watched.

  The gss walls didn’t help.

  They turned the city into an illusion—a world I could see, but not touch.

  A prison without bars.

  Then—

  Click.

  The door unlocked.

  I straightened instantly.

  The first thing I saw—

  Kevin.

  He walked in like he hadn’t just come back from somewhere dangerous.

  Like he hadn’t just done something dangerous.

  No signs of exhaustion. No hints of tension in his shoulders.

  He was perfectly calm.

  Too calm.

  And that—

  That was the most terrifying thing of all.

  He shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it into the hamper without a second gnce. His fingers moved absently to his sleeve buttons—unhurried, precise.

  But I saw it.

  The stain.

  Dark red.

  Trailing down his cuff.

  Blood.

  Not his.

  I pushed up from the couch before I even realized I was moving.

  I didn’t stop walking until I was standing right in front of him.

  "Where were you?"

  My voice was even. But there was weight behind it.

  Kevin didn’t stop unbuttoning his sleeve. Didn’t even look at me.

  Then—

  A flicker of amusement in his eyes.

  "If I said charity work, would you believe me?"

  I clenched my jaw. "I’m serious."

  His lips twitched. "So am I."

  Infuriating.

  The way he dismissed my questions like they meant nothing.

  The way he let me read between the lines, knowing full well he controlled what I did—and didn’t—see.

  I stepped closer. My nails dug into my palms.

  "Tell me the truth."

  Kevin finally looked at me.

  And that was worse.

  Because his gaze was steady. Cold.

  Like he wasn’t hiding anything—because he didn’t need to.

  Like he knew I’d never get the full picture, no matter how hard I tried.

  Before I could say anything else—

  His phone rang.

  He picked up immediately, turning slightly as he spoke.

  He wasn’t blocking the door.

  He wasn’t lowering his voice.

  Did he want me to hear?

  I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

  But I heard it anyway.

  "Mm. They’re really looking for her?"

  My stomach dropped.

  Who?

  Who’s looking for me?

  Kevin exhaled, voice low. "I told you. This isn’t her problem."

  My breath hitched.

  Her.

  Me.

  Another pause.

  Then—

  "If they make another move, I’ll deal with it myself."

  I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  I was being hunted.

  For real.

  I didn’t realize I was backing away until my heel hit the leg of the couch.

  Kevin’s voice blurred into white noise. I turned, slipping away before I could hear any more.

  Back to my room.

  Back to silence.

  I shut the door and leaned against it, my pulse hammering against my ribs.

  Kevin was either protecting me—

  Or he was using me.

  And the worst part?

  I didn’t know which.

  I didn’t sleep.

  Not even for a second.

  Kevin’s words kept circling in my head—

  "If they make another move, I’ll deal with it myself."

  Who was after me?

  What did they want?

  Was Kevin protecting me?

  Or was I just another piece in his game?

  The more I thought about it, the worse it got.

  I rolled onto my side, eyes burning from exhaustion, but the silence in this room was too loud.

  I had to know.

  I sat up.

  The weight of the night pressed against my ribs as I moved to the door.

  Hand on the knob.

  I hesitated—

  Just for a second.

  Then I turned it.

  Click.

  Unlocked.

  The air outside my room was heavy with quiet.

  The living room was dimly lit, city lights spilling soft shadows onto the floor.

  Kevin was nowhere in sight.

  This was my chance.

  I swallowed hard. Then, carefully—

  I stepped forward.

  Toward his study.

  The door was shut.

  Not locked.

  Either he trusted me not to go inside—

  Or he wanted me to.

  I pushed it open.

  The room smelled like expensive leather and old paper.

  Everything was too neat.

  The bookshelves were fwless. The desk was clear.

  Nothing was out of pce.

  Nothing looked used.

  Like this room wasn’t meant for work at all.

  My stomach twisted.

  I stepped toward the desk.

  First drawer—empty.

  Second drawer—documents. Boring.

  Third drawer—

  I stopped breathing.

  A sleek, bck pistol.

  Tucked neatly beside a stack of loaded magazines.

  The weight of reality settled over me.

  I knew Kevin wasn’t normal. I’d seen him kill before.

  But seeing the gun like this—organized, waiting, prepared—

  This wasn’t just self-defense.

  This was his world.

  My hands felt ice-cold.

  I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to move again.

  My gaze flicked toward the bookshelf.

  Most of the books looked untouched—too pristine.

  Except—

  One corner.

  A small, bck box.

  Tucked neatly between the books.

  Not hidden.

  But not meant to be found, either.

  My pulse quickened.

  I hesitated—

  Then I reached for it.

  The lid lifted easily.

  Inside—

  A single, cream-colored document.

  Crisp. Untouched.

  My fingers tightened around the edges as I pulled it out.

  The first thing I saw—

  Kevin Cedric Ats.

  I blinked.

  His full name.

  For the first time.

  Ats…

  I’d heard that name before.

  Somewhere.

  My eyes skimmed further.

  St. Andreas School.

  The air left my lungs.

  I knew that school.

  It wasn’t just for the wealthy.

  It was for the untouchable.

  The future leaders. The heirs of the most powerful families.

  A pce where the elite were trained not just to succeed—

  But to rule.

  My stomach twisted as I scanned his academic records.

  GPA: 3.90

  But that wasn’t what made my breath catch.

  Alternative PE: Shooting Alternative Course: Aviation

  Shooting.

  Aviation.

  A school where people learned to fly pnes—and kill.

  I felt dizzy.

  My fingers trembled as I flipped through the remaining papers—until something fell loose.

  A photograph.

  I picked it up carefully.

  It was a group photo.

  Students, dressed in perfectly tailored bck suits, stood and sat around a grand leather couch.

  But my eyes locked onto one person.

  Not in the center.

  Not in the background.

  Kevin.

  He was seated just off to the side, wearing a gray suit.

  Different from the others.

  Like he didn’t need to be at the center—but still had a view of everything.

  Something about the composition felt wrong.

  Too structured.

  Too deliberate.

  I frowned, gncing down at the list of names below.

  I read them quickly—

  Until I found one that made my blood run cold.

  Jacklen Arthur Surn.

  Surn.

  I knew that name.

  I’d searched for it before.

  A name tied to the Russian mafia.

  A name that had been wiped from the internet—just like the news about the warehouse murder.

  My throat went dry.

  My gaze flicked back to the photograph.

  These weren’t just students.

  They were something else.

  Something dangerous.

  And Kevin—

  He wasn’t just part of it.

  He had positioned himself exactly where he wanted to be.

  A quiet observer.

  A patient predator.

  Then—

  Click.

  I turned sharply.

  Kevin was in the doorway.

  Watching me.

  His eyes flicked to the book in my hands. The photograph.

  Then back to my face.

  Calm.

  Too calm.

  I felt the weight of the silence settle between us.

  Then—

  His lips curled slightly.

  "Find anything interesting?"