---- Chapter 23 Chapter 23 Aimee Ramirez POV: The vacant apartment across from Anderson's became the epicenter of our investigation. It was a ghost nest, meticulously cleaned but for a few overlooked traces. Elias's team found a single strand of long, dark hair and a faint fingerprint on a windowpane. "We're running them now," Elias reported, his voice grim over the phone. "But whoever this is, they're a professional. They know how to cover their tracks." That evening, | was at the new house upstate, the one Anderson had found for us. It was a modern structure of glass and stone, nestled in a hundred acres of private woodland. The security was state-of-the-art, a digital fortress of my own design. | was directing the last of the movers, a futile attempt to impose order on the chaos of my life, when Anderson called. "Stay where you are, Aimee," he said, his voice tight with an urgency that made my blood run cold. "Lock everything down. I'm on my way." "What is it?" | demanded. "What did Elias find?" "The fingerprint came back with a partial match. To a juvenile ---- record from twenty years ago. The hair confirmed it. It's Karma's older brother, Julian Wells." The name hit me like a physical blow. Julian. The prodigal son of the Wells family, the one who had been disowned years ago for his violent tendencies and criminal associations. The one who had lost his chance at the family fortune when | sent them all to prison. "His record is sealed, but Elias has connections," Anderson continued. "After his family was arrested, he fell off the grid. He's been working as a mercenary, a ghost for hire. He's not just an angry brother, Aimee. He's a trained killer." As he spoke, the lights in the house flickered and went out, plunging the world into an inky blackness. The backup generator failed to kick in. The silence that followed was absolute, terrifying. "Anderson," | whispered into the dead phone. The line was cut. | was alone. The digital fortress | had built was useless, its brain ripped out. He was here. | heard the sound of shattering glass from the far end of the house. My heart hammered against my ribs, but my mind went cold and clear. The boardroom, the takeover-that was a chess match. This was a survival game. | crept silently into the kitchen, my hand closing around the heaviest object | could find-a solid block of butcher's knives. | pulled out the longest, sharpest one. ---- "| know you're in here, Aimee," a voice called out, a conversational, mocking purr that echoed in the cavernous, dark house. "You took my family. You took my inheritance. It seems only fair that | take what matters most to you." | didn't answer. | pressed myself into the shadows of the pantry, my breathing shallow, the knife held tight in my hand. "Your new man is on his way," Julian's voice continued, closer now. "I cut the phone lines, but | know he's coming. That's the point. | want him to find you. | want him to feel the same helplessness you made my family feel." | heard his footsteps, slow and deliberate, crossing the marble floor of the great room. He was hunting me. My mind raced. He had cut the power. He thought | was blind. But he didn't know about the secret | had built into the house's very foundation. | had my own backup system, a separate, solar-powered network connected only to my personal tablet. My tablet was on the kitchen island. Ten feet away. An impossible distance. | had to make a choice. Wait for him to find me, or create a diversion. The old Aimee, the ruthless strategist, took over. | grabbed a heavy glass vase and hurled it into the dining room. It shattered with a satisfying crash. As Julian moved toward the sound, | darted from the pantry, ---- my bare feet silent on the cold floor. | snatched the tablet from the island and scrambled into the wine cellar, locking the heavy oak door behind me. My hands shook as | activated the system. A schematic of the house appeared on the screen, a single red dot-Julian-moving through the dining room. He had a gun. | was armed with a kitchen knife and a tablet. The odds were not in my favor. But he had made a critical error. He had cornered me in the one place where | was no longer the prey. | was the architect. And this was my maze.