REWRITTEN AS A VILLAIN.

GHOSTS DON'T DRIVE

LUCIAN

I covered my ears. We were far enough from the blast, yet the impact still reached us. A sharp ringing filled my ears, growing louder by the second. I kept pressing my palms against them, trying to get it under control.

I got into the car, and we drove away from the scene.

The bodyguard was still lying where we'd left him, groaning in pain.

Before we left, I ordered my men to loosen the restraints around him. His brother would deal with the consequences of his own choices. Someone else would handle the rest. I loosened my tie, exposing my collarbone. Sweat clung to my shirt. This was the second shirt I'd soaked through today, and I hadn't brought another one. The ringing slowly turned into a pounding headache.

"Drive me to the hospital," I instructed the driver. l'd been warned years ago not to get too close to explosions or ignore prolonged ringing afterward. I grabbed a bottle of water, took a few long drinks, then poured some over my face. It cooled me down, but the headache remained.

By now, videos of the explosion were probably all over the internet. "No... drive somewhere quieter first. Get me some medicine." Going to the hospital wasn't worth the risk. The police would already be working to identify everyone connected to the explosion.

The car eventually pulled over beside a quiet road overlooking a lake, i stepped out and lit a cigarette. Sliding a hand into my pocket, I reached for my conversation phone. It wasn't there, i rummaged through the car without saying a word to anyone, but I couldn't find it.

Damn it, i needed to put the pieces together. My phone was still in my hand when I told them to get Gianne away. When the blast went off, it must have slipped from my grip while I lunged forward. "Brooke," I said through my earpiece. "Send me the security footage."

"Already sending it."

A few seconds later, the footage appeared on my backup phone. I replayed it carefully. There, the phone slipped from my hand the moment I lunged forward. Seconds later, our getaway car rolled over it while pulling away from the scene.

A slow breath escaped me, good. It was completely crushed. No one was getting anything from that phone.

"Number Four."

"Sir."

"Go back to the scene. Retrieve my damaged phone and bring it to me."

"Understood." He drove off immediately.

I waited patiently. I needed to reach Gianne. Contacting the bodyguards wasn't an option because I'd enforced a strict no phone rule for today's operation. We could only communicate through our encrypted devices, and our connection had already been severed.

The sun was beginning to set. I'd even left my tablet in the car with them. If everything had gone according to plan, they should be at the airport by now. I checked the news on my backup phone. The explosion had already made headlines, but no victims had been officially identified yet.

Antonio's younger brother had been taken into police custody earlier that afternoon. Pierre, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. If he was still walking around freely, he'd remain a threat to me. I brushed my hair back and looked down the road. Number Four was taking longer than expected. He should have been back by now.

A few minutes later, the car pulled up beside me. He stepped out holding my damaged phone. I took it from him and gave him a light pat on the shoulder.

"Good job"

He nodded. They all deserved a raise after today, i got back into the car and carefully examined the phone, making sure it hadn't been switched. Nobody knew this, but I always left hidden identifiers on my belongings. My grandmother taught me that. "Embrace your trust issues," she'd told me one afternoon.

That advice had kept me from getting hurt more times than I could count. Everything matched. The hidden engravings. The markings that only appeared under a specific light. The tiny identifiers placed both inside and outside the phone. Only someone like me would know they were there. Everything was exactly as I'd left it.

Once I was satisfied and everyone had recovered enough to continue, I told them to drive me to the airport. A second later, I changed my mind. "Move over." I slid into the driver's seat. Nobody was going to drive fast enough for me . I started the engine, pulled onto the road, and switched on the news, keeping track of every update surrounding the explosion.

The next report made my hands tighten around the steering wheel. "Truman Bruce, younger brother of the late business tycoon Truman Truce, has been found dead inside his holding cell."

I narrowed my eyes. Someone was already cleaning up loose ends. The reporter continued. "And police have arrested the suspected mastermind behind today's explosion, the notorious mafia leader, Pierre Antonio."

Pierre...

Whether he'd remain in custody was another matter entirely.