Chapter 8: Hunted
1118 Words
The room felt smaller.
Like the walls were closing in.
Isabella couldn’t take her eyes off the phone in Sophia’s hand. The article glowed on the screen, the words blurring together as her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
“Surviving subject still missing.”
That was her.
Not Isabella Clarke.
Not a girl with two jobs trying to survive.
A subject.
Something to be found.
Tracked.
Claimed.
“No…” she whispered again, stepping back. “No, no, no… this can’t be real.”
But it was.
Her photo was there.
Her past—exposed.
Her existence—turned into a headline.
“They’re going to find me,” she said, her voice breaking. “Everyone’s going to see that.”
Alexander took the phone from Sophia, scanning the article quickly. His expression darkened with every second.
“This wasn’t supposed to go public,” he said coldly.
Sophia crossed her arms, anxious.
“Well, it did. And not just on one site—it’s spreading.”
Isabella shook her head, panic rising in her chest.
“I can’t— I can’t go outside. I can’t go back to my apartment. I can’t—”
Her breathing became uneven.
Too fast.
Too shallow.
Alexander stepped toward her immediately.
“Isabella.”
She didn’t respond.
Her vision blurred as fear took over.
“Isabella,” he said again, firmer this time.
Still nothing.
Then—
He reached out and gently held her face.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes snapped to his.
“Breathe,” he said.
His voice was calm.
Grounding.
“In… and out.”
She followed his rhythm without thinking.
Slow breath in.
Slow breath out.
Again.
Again.
The panic didn’t disappear—but it loosened its grip.
“They’re not going to get you,” he said quietly.
“You don’t know that,” she whispered.
“I do.”
“How?”
His eyes hardened.
“Because I won’t let them.”
Within the hour, everything changed.
Security doubled.
All entrances locked.
The penthouse transformed from a home into a fortress.
Isabella stood near the window, watching the city below—but now it felt different.
Every car.
Every person.
Every shadow.
A potential threat.
“I can’t stay here forever,” she said quietly.
Alexander stood a few feet behind her.
“You won’t have to.”
She turned.
“Then what’s the plan?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation didn’t go unnoticed.
“You do have a plan… right?” she pressed.
“I always have a plan,” he replied.
“Then tell me.”
His gaze met hers.
“We make them come to us.”
Her stomach dropped.
“…What?”
Sophia looked just as surprised.
“Alex, that’s risky,” she said.
“It’s necessary,” he replied.
Isabella shook her head.
“No—no, I don’t like that. I don’t even understand what’s happening, and now you want to use me as bait?”
“I’m not using you,” he said calmly.
“It feels like it!”
Silence.
Tension crackled between them.
Then Alexander stepped closer.
“I’m trying to end this,” he said.
His voice was low.
Serious.
“For good.”
She searched his face.
I'm trying to read him.
Trying to decide if she could trust him.
But trust was becoming harder by the second.
Later that night, Isabella couldn’t sleep.
Again.
The penthouse was quiet now, but her mind wasn’t.
Every word.
Every revelation.
Every secret.
It all replayed endlessly.
She sat on the edge of the bed in the guest room, staring at her hands.
You were the only successful one.
What did that even mean?
A soft knock broke the silence.
She looked up.
“Come in.”
The door opened slowly.
Sophia stepped inside.
“Hey,” she said gently.
“Hey.”
Sophia closed the door behind her and walked over, sitting beside Isabella.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Sophia sighed.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Isabella glanced at her.
“For what?”
“For everything,” Sophia replied. “For how you found out. For… my family.”
Isabella gave a small, tired smile.
“You didn’t do this.”
“No,” Sophia said softly. “But I’m part of it whether I like it or not.”
That honesty made Isabella relax just a little.
“You’re the only normal one here,” Isabella said.
Sophia laughed lightly.
“I try.”
Silence settled again.
Then Isabella asked quietly:
“Do you think he’s telling me everything?”
Sophia didn’t answer right away.
Which was answer enough.
“There are things Alex doesn’t say,” she admitted. “Not because he wants to lie… but because he thinks it protects people.”
Isabella looked down.
“That’s not protecting. That’s controlling.”
Sophia nodded slightly.
“I know.”
Before Isabella could respond—
A faint sound echoed from the hallway.
Both of them froze.
“Did you hear that?” Isabella whispered.
Sophia stood slowly.
“Yeah…”
Another sound.
A door closing.
But softly.
Too softly.
Like someone didn’t want to be heard.
Isabella’s heart began to race again.
“Alexander?” Sophia called.
No answer.
The hallway light flickered.
A chill ran down Isabella’s spine.
“Something’s wrong,” she said.
Sophia nodded.
“Stay here.”
“No way,” Isabella said, standing. “I’m not staying alone.”
They stepped into the hallway together.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
The penthouse suddenly felt… empty."
Wrong.
Then—
They saw it.
Alexander’s office door.
Slightly open.
A faint light inside.
Sophia frowned.
“He was in there earlier…”
Isabella swallowed.
“Let’s check.”
They moved slowly toward the door.
Each step heavier than the last.
Sophia pushed it open.
The room was empty.
But the desk—
The desk had been disturbed.
Drawers open.
Papers scattered.
The file Isabella had seen earlier—
Gone.
Her stomach dropped.
“Someone was here,” she whispered.
Sophia’s face paled.
“That’s not possible. Security is—”
“Compromised,” a voice finished.
They both turned sharply.
Standing in the doorway behind them—
Was Liam.
Alexander’s best friend.
His expression was serious.
Too serious.
“You need to come with me,” he said.
Sophia frowned.
“Where’s Alex?”
Liam hesitated.
And in that moment—
Something felt off.
Wrong.
Dangerous.
Isabella took a small step back.
“Why?” she asked.
Liam’s gaze shifted to her.
And for the first time—
She noticed it.
Not concern.
Not urgency.
Something colder.
“Because,” he said slowly…
“They’re already inside.”
- Writer
