chapter 2
1096 Words
Grace’s POV
“The Widow is watching…”
I stared at him, “What the hell does that mean?”
He looked at me, like he really looked at me and for the first time that night, I saw an emotion
slip through his mask.
Fear.
“Run, Grace…” he said, his voice filled with urgency but before I could respond, the door
exploded open.
“NYPD! Hand up!”
The room was swarming with uniforms and bulletproof vests with the metallic sound of guns
cocking.
“Hands where I can see them! Peter Noah, you are under arrest for the murder of Honourable
Charles Joe.”
Huge gasps filled the air. My heart slammed through my rib cage.
Peter’s eyes landed on mine, “Stay out of this…” he whispered, then he slowly raised his hands.
I should have walked away and followed his instructions but I didn't.
I checked for my phone, my fingers trembling as adrenaline pumped through my veins. I went
straight to my working account on i********: without thinking, my thumb hit the red buttons and
suddenly the whole world was watching.
The camera of my phone captured it all, as they pushed the famous billionaire into the back of a
police van.
This was f*****g insane.
The comment feed of the live feed moved so fast as more and more people joined the live feed.
Holy s**t, is this real?
Peter Noah? Arrested?
This is bigger than the f*****g O.J. trial
Grace, you are f*****g insane for this life.
Within minutes, the New News blog live feed had pulled over 10,000 people and it was still
counting.
“Grant is going to be so f*****g pleased.”
The siren wailed as the van’s door was slammed shut and just like that Peter was gone.
The man who was the main lead in my case was being pulled away by the f*****g NYPD.
My mind went back to the note that Peter had read. What the hell was going on?
I ended the stream but my hands were still shaking. The room felt like it had no more oxygen to
give. Everyone around stood still, shocked by the experience.
I was no different. I was f*****g frozen.
I barely noticed that someone was beside me till I noticed his reflection through the glass doors.
I turned to meet a tall man, who looked like he was in his mid-forties. The badge on his chest
glittered under the enormous street light.
“Miss…Grace, correct?” His tone wasn't like he was asking a question.
“Yes…” my voice cracked.
“You’re close with Mr Noah?”
I was taken aback by the question. How would I be close to a man who barely had a life?
“No, I wasn't close to him. Why do you ask?”
The detective studied me for a while like he was trying to get me to admit to things that were not
true.
“Because you were the last one he spoke to before we took him in. What did he say to you?”
My throat tightened.
Should I tell him the truth? Or would he think I was lying? Maybe they knew more than what
they are leading me to believe.
I looked up at him, “It was nothing important….” I lied smoothly, “It came as a shock to all of us.”
He didn't look convinced but before he could press on, a message coming from his little radio
interrupted. He gave me one sharp look before he walked off.
I exhaled.
I picked up my stuff and moved towards the exit. I needed to get the f**k out of here. My heels
clicked hard against the marble floor with each step louder than it should be.
I felt so f*****g guilty.
Why hadn't I said what I knew? Peter could be innocent or not.
The city was a f*****g jungle. There were flashes of red and blue lights, reporters were
screaming into the cameras to give the biggest news of the year, and bystanders were
stretching to get a glimpse of what was going on.
I pushed through the crowd, clutching my phone like it might protect me. My phone was blowing
up with several notifications, people tagging me, and my DM getting new messages.
The livestream had gone viral on different blogs and different f*****g headlines.
I should feel happy about my big break as an investigative journalist but instead I felt like this
was just the tip of the iceberg.
I had seen Peter’s face when he was arrested. He wasn't scared of the NYPD but something
else.
He had to warn me to stay away. Why?
I stopped a cab and sank into the backseat of it as I stared at my reflection. As the city blurred
by, the day’s event kept replaying inside my head like a movie.
*The Widow is watching.*
I jolted up in fear as those words filtered through my ears. Who the hell was the widow? And
why did the thought of her make Peter Noah look scared?
My cab pulled up to my apartment with my phone still buzzing nonstop. I ignored everything,
even the text from Grant.
Grant: GRACE WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO?
I exhaled as I dropped my bag on the counter and walked myself to the kitchen. I took out a
bottle of wine, poured myself a glass, and drowned it under three seconds, tops.
Picking up my laptop, I knew I had to do one thing—Keep digging for answers.
Even though Peter’s warning echoed in my mind.
I started with Charles Joe, the man who died. His name was everywhere but I needed to find
something below the surface level.
I kept pushing, looking for a reason why he was killed and his death is being pinned on Peter.
I found old articles with different scandals of this man, he had made some sketchy business
deals and that was when I noticed the name.
*The Widow’s Circle.*
I clicked on the article leading to it and there it was. The widow was a secret network company.
It was untouchable and it is alleged that they controlled the top politicians, big corporations, and
the government.
I checked for the person who had put out this article five years ago, “Christina Dave.” I clicked
on her biography.
She was dead.
I shut the laptop as I felt my skin crawl with fear.
This s**t is getting real.
- Writer
