Chapter 19 – Taken
234 Words
The photo was blurry.
But it was me.
The coat I wore. The bag in my hand. The street right outside the penthouse.
And the timestamp didn’t lie.
Three minutes ago.
Lucien was already moving—grabbing his keys, gun, jacket.
I grabbed his arm. “We can’t rush. That’s what they want.”
His eyes were wildfire. “If they touch you—”
“They already did,” I cut in. “By sending that message.”
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We checked every camera on the block.
One car stood out.
Black. Windows tinted. Parked too long, left too fast.
Lucien called an old contact—someone from the Sinclair security division who owed him a favor.
Ten minutes later, we had the plates.
Fake.
But the route it took was real.
Out of the city. Toward the docks.
---
He didn’t wait for backup.
Didn’t call the police.
Just looked at me with something I hadn’t seen before.
Not fear.
Not even rage.
Devotion.
The kind that burns down everything in its way.
“I’ll get you back,” he said.
“I’m not gone yet,” I replied.
---
Then, everything went black.
A sharp prick in my neck.
The world spun sideways.
And the last thing I heard was a voice I hadn’t heard in years.
Soft.
Cruel.
Familiar.
> “Didn’t think we’d meet again like this, Aveline.”
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- Writer
