The Man Who Disappeared Twice
1170 Words
I stared at Luca, my heart thudding against my ribcage like it was trying to claw its way out.
“Say that again.”
He didn't look at me. His eyes were fixed on the dark window, jaw clenched.
“Nathan’s not just some freelance investigator,” he said. “He’s working both sides. Yours... and Daniel’s.”
It took a moment to breathe again.
“You’re wrong,” I said, but even I didn’t believe the words as they left my lips. Luca turned to face me, and the sadness in his eyes made my stomach twist.
“I wish I was, Ari. I’ve been digging into his background for months. Cross-referencing files. Phone records. Ghosted servers. He’s been feeding you half-truths and feeding Daniel just enough to keep you in play.”
“No. No, Nathan helped me.”
“He helped you just enough,” he said, voice flat. “Just enough to push you into Daniel’s game. But never far enough to win.”
I sank into the couch, hands trembling. My chest felt like it was caving in.
Nathan. The one man who told me the truth when everyone else fed me lies. The only one who’d warned me… about everything.
Could it have all been staged?
“What would Daniel gain by using Nathan to expose himself?”
Luca shook his head. “He wouldn’t. That’s not the point. Nathan’s not loyal to Daniel. He’s loyal to whoever’s paying more. Right now, you’re the distraction. The bait.”
I looked up slowly. “Bait for what?”
He hesitated. And then…
“For a bigger player. Someone else pulling Daniel’s strings. Someone we haven’t seen yet.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “And you think Nathan’s the middleman?”
“I know he is. And Ari…” Luca stepped forward, crouching in front of me. “He’s about to disappear again. Just like he did ten years ago.”
My mind spun. “What happened ten years ago?”
Luca’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “You were in college. Nathan was working with a Wall Street group laundering cartel money. One night, poof—he vanished. Six months later, every case went cold. Witnesses silenced. Files shredded. The man became a damn ghost.”
I remembered. Barely. There were whispers about a high-level informant who vanished before trial. I never connected the dots. Until now.
“He lied to me.”
Luca nodded. “And he’ll do it again. Unless we stop him.”
---
We spent the rest of the night on my living room floor, surrounded by files and coffee and tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
“I need to find out who he’s working for,” I murmured, scrolling through encrypted call logs.
Luca glanced at me over the top of his laptop. “If we corner him too fast, he’ll vanish. And if he vanishes…”
“We lose everything.”
He nodded once.
I stood and began pacing.
“What if I flip the script?” I asked. “What if I make him think I’m pulling away? That I’m walking away from the war?”
Luca arched a brow. “Fake a breakdown?”
“Or a surrender.”
He leaned back, considering it. “Risky. But smart.”
“Then I’ll call him in the morning. I’ll thank him. Pretend I’m backing out.”
“And he’ll relax,” Luca said. “Let his guard down.”
“Long enough for us to watch him run.”
---
The next morning, I called Nathan from my bathroom mirror, mascara wand trembling between my fingers.
“Hey,” I said, voice soft and tired. “I wanted to say thank you… for everything. But I think I need to stop digging. It’s getting dangerous.”
There was a pause. Then his voice, smooth as ever.
“I understand, Arielle. You’ve been through enough.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” I added, swallowing the bile rising in my throat. “I just… I need to breathe. Maybe I was chasing shadows.”
Another pause.
“You’re making the right call.” When we hung up, I smashed my phone against the marble counter, face hot with rage. He bought it.
The man I trusted most was the one quietly tying a noose around my neck. And he had no idea I was holding the scissors.
*****
Two hours later, Luca and I sat in a black rental car three blocks from Nathan’s high-rise downtown.
We watched through binoculars as he exited the building, no laptop, no files, just a small leather satchel.
“Where’s he going?” I muttered.
Luca checked his screen. “No meetings on his calendar. No court appearances. This is off the grid.”
Nathan moved fast, confident. He got into a silver Jaguar with tinted windows and took off.
We followed from a distance, weaving through Manhattan traffic.
“He’s not headed to Midtown,” Luca said, eyes narrowing. “He’s taking the bridge.”
“To Brooklyn?”
“To the docks.”
The words sent a cold shiver down my spine.
Ten minutes later, we parked at the edge of the industrial district. Rusted warehouses. Abandoned trailers. The kind of place you don’t walk through alone at night.
We watched Nathan step out of the car and enter a building marked “N. Rowe Shipping Co.”
Luca cursed. “That’s one of the shell companies from the money-laundering loop. He’s making a drop.”
I jumped out of the car before he could stop me.
“Arielle—wait!”
But I didn’t wait.
I ran across the gravel, ducking behind crates, staying in the shadows. My pulse thundered in my ears as I reached the side of the warehouse.
A window was cracked open. I climbed onto a crate and peeked inside. Nathan stood in the center of a room lit by a single overhead bulb. He was talking to someone. A woman.
Tall. Blonde. Elegant. And all too familiar. Vanessa.
Every nerve in my body went cold.
I pressed closer to the glass, listening.
“…She’s pulling back,” Nathan said. “Tired. Fractured. Just like we predicted.”
Vanessa smiled. “Perfect. That’s when she’s easiest to break.”
My stomach twisted. Nathan leaned in closer. “But if she gets too close to Luca again—”
“Handle it,” Vanessa said. “Before he ruins the plan.”
Nathan nodded. And then she pulled something from her purse.
A photograph. Me.
“I want her done by Friday,” she said.
Nathan looked at the photo, then at her.
“Consider it done.”
****
I nearly fell backward. Luca caught me as I stumbled from the crate, my face pale.
“What did you hear?” he asked. I turned, grabbed his wrist, and whispered through clenched teeth.
“They want me dead.”
- Writer
