CHAPTER8
1171 Words
Elena stared at the image on Lucas’s phone—her father, behind the counter of his quiet bookstore in Queens. The shop looked just as she remembered: dust-covered shelves, handwritten signs, the old ceiling fan always spinning just slightly off-center.
But the angle of the photo chilled her.
It had been taken from inside.
She pressed a trembling hand to her lips. “They were in the store.”
Lucas nodded grimly, already calling Marcus. “We need eyes on that location. Now.”
“Is he okay?” Elena’s voice cracked. “I haven’t spoken to him since I came back. We haven’t… I didn’t tell him I was here.”
Lucas’s expression softened. “I’ll make sure he’s protected.”
“No.” Elena shook her head. “I need to go to him. I need to see for myself.”
Lucas frowned. “It could be a trap.”
“I don’t care.” Her voice strengthened. “He’s all I have left. And someone walked into his store my past and used it to hurt us. I won’t run from that.”
Lucas hesitated, then relented. “I’m going with you.”
They arrived just after ten a.m. the next morning.
The Rivera Bookshop sat on the corner of a sleepy block, nestled between a laundromat and a closed-down diner. Its glass front was smudged, the gold-lettered sign faded from sun and time.
Elena stepped out of the black car, heart pounding.
“I haven’t been here in five years,” she said softly.
Lucas stood beside her, hand brushing hers. “You ready?”
She nodded, though she wasn’t sure it was true.
The bell above the door jingled as they stepped inside. The scent of old pages wrapped around her like a forgotten lullaby.
Behind the counter, a man looked up from his ledger. His graying hair, round glasses, and worn sweater hadn’t changed a bit.
“Elena?” His voice was hoarse with disbelief. “Mija?”
Her breath hitched. “Hi, Papa.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then he came around the counter and pulled her into a crushing embrace.
“I thought I was seeing a ghost,” he whispered. “You didn’t write… you didn’t call.”
“I know,” she said into his shoulder, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
Lucas stepped back, giving them space.
After a long moment, her father pulled away, eyes scanning her face. “Why now?”
“It’s a long story,” she said, glancing at Lucas.
Her father followed her gaze. “Who is this?”
Lucas stepped forward, offering his hand. “Lucas Thorne.”
Her father didn’t shake it.
Instead, he narrowed his eyes. “The one who broke her heart?”
“Papa,” Elena warned.
Lucas took the hit calmly. “That’s me. And I regret every second of it.”
Her father studied him. “Regret doesn’t change the past.”
“No,” Lucas agreed. “But it’s the reason I’m here—to protect her now.”
Elena placed a hand on her father’s arm. “Papa, someone’s threatening us. They sent a photo of you from inside the store.”
Her father’s eyes widened. “What?”
Lucas handed him the phone. The older man stared at it, color draining from his face.
“I didn’t see anyone. I don’t remember…” He turned toward the back of the store. “The door was unlocked yesterday. I thought I’d left it open.”
“Who else has keys?” Lucas asked.
“No one. Not since” His eyes flicked to Elena. “Not since her mother passed.”
A heavy silence followed.
Elena squeezed his hand. “We’ll figure it out.”
Her father took a seat, clearly shaken.
Lucas scanned the room. “We’ll have Marcus sweep this place, install cameras, and put a man on the block to watch for anything suspicious.”
Elena turned to her father. “I should’ve come sooner.”
He smiled faintly. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
They returned to the penthouse that afternoon, both drained. Marcus was waiting, a grim look on his face.
“Surveillance from the store showed a man in a delivery uniform entering through the back alley,” he said. “We’ve isolated the footage. He wore a hat, glasses, gloves—very clean. We’re running facial recognition.”
Lucas nodded. “Good. And Kieran?”
“Gone. Didn’t show up for his suspension meeting. Apartment cleaned out.”
Lucas’s jaw tensed. “Damn it.”
Elena sat on the edge of the couch. “Whoever’s behind this… they know how to stay ahead.”
Lucas sat beside her. “But we’re closer now. They made a mistake. They involved your father. That narrows the motive.”
Elena blinked. “What do you mean?”
“They aren’t just after me or the company. They’re trying to unravel you. This is personal.”
She felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach. “So who hates me enough to do this?”
Lucas met her eyes. “That’s what we have to find out.”
That evening, Elena walked alone onto the penthouse balcony. The wind curled around her like memory. She stared out at the city—bright, restless, unaware.
Lucas joined her quietly.
“Sorry,” she said. “I just needed air.”
“I get it.” He leaned on the railing beside her. “Your father… he’s a good man.”
“I left him behind when I ran,” she said. “It broke him. And me.”
Lucas touched her hand. “We both made mistakes.”
She turned to face him. “Do you think we’re cursed?”
He shook his head. “No. I think we were just unfinished.”
A slow, sad smile touched her lips. “What if this doesn’t end well?”
“Then at least it ends with truth. And with us.”
He pulled her close, arms wrapping around her as the city pulsed below.
And for the first time in days, the silence between them wasn’t fear. It was peace.
But peace never lasts.
The next morning, Lucas woke to an email on his encrypted account.
Subject Line: She won’t survive the next time.
Attached: A video clip shaky footage from a dark alley. A man in a mask. A woman’s scream. And a voice.
“You should’ve let her go when you had the chance.”
Elena stepped into the room just as he froze.
“What is it?” she asked.
He clicked the clip off, but not before she saw enough.
Her face paled. “That was me… wasn’t it?”
Lucas nodded. “From five years ago. The night you left.”
She whispered, “Someone followed me back then.”
Lucas looked up at her.
“They’ve been watching this whole time.”
- Writer
