Chapter 3: Echoes Of A Ghost
1084 Words
The house remained silent, but Elise no longer found comfort in the quiet.
She stood in front of the mirror, her reflection unreadable. But she wasn’t looking at herself. Not really.
Her fingers absently traced the faint scar near her temple—an old wound, barely noticeable, but one she could never forget. A ghost of a touch. A reminder.
The past was never truly buried.
The memory struck her with brutal clarity—
Adrian’s hand around her wrist, the force of it enough to make her bones ache. His voice, deceptively soft, laced with fury beneath the surface.
“You think you can leave me?”
She had tried to walk away. She had gathered every ounce of courage she had, packed her bags, and told him she was done.
She never made it to the door.
The first blow sent her crashing to the floor, the breath knocked from her lungs. The second left a taste of blood in her mouth.
She had thought—stupidly, naively—that he would never hurt her. That no matter how cruel his words became, no matter how possessive his touch grew, he would never cross that line.
But he had. And he hadn’t stopped.
“You’re mine,” he had whispered against her ear, his grip on her jaw unforgiving. “And you always will be.”
She had lain there, bruised and gasping, as he kissed her temple—almost gentle. Almost loving. As if he hadn’t just shattered something inside her.
Elise squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself back to the present.
She was not that woman anymore. She had clawed her way out of the darkness, rebuilt herself into someone unbreakable. Someone untouchable.
And yet, with four simple words, someone had managed to drag her back into hell.
You were always mine.
Her stomach twisted. The message wasn’t just a threat. It was a resurrection.
She turned away from the mirror, shoving the memory down. She couldn’t afford to drown in the past. Not now.
Not when the past was trying to reach for her again.
------------------------------------------
Luis had spent the last hour going through reports, tracking down anything that might hint at who sent that message to Elise.
But his mind wasn’t on the task anymore.
It was on her.
Luis exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. He shouldn’t care this much. He shouldn’t let the thought of her consume him like this.
But he did.
And it was a losing battle.
His fingers tightened around the glass of whiskey in his hand, the weight of unspoken words settling heavy in his chest.
She would never see him the way he saw her. Never realize the lengths he would go to keep her safe.
And if she did—she would never allow it.
Luis swallowed down the thought, forcing his focus back to the documents in front of him. He could afford to be many things.
Weak wasn’t one of them.
But as he glanced at the clock, knowing she was alone in that house, he couldn’t shake the feeling that for the first time in a long time—
Elise Cruz wasn’t untouchable.
Luis sat back in a leather chair, fingers steepled. Watching. Calculating.
Between them, a laptop screen displayed the message Elise received—Mi reina. Two words that had changed everything.
Ethan exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “We’re chasing a ghost.”
Luis’s expression remained unreadable. “Then let’s make sure it’s really a ghost.”
Ethan shot him a look. “You think he’s alive?”
Luis didn’t answer right away. He reached for the tablet beside him, scrolling through encrypted files. “We don’t assume anything. We find proof.”
Ethan clenched his jaw, staring at the screen. “You know what this means for her.”
Luis’s fingers stilled. A flicker of something crossed his face, gone too fast to name. “I do.”
Ethan didn’t push. Instead, he turned back to the screen, pulling up surveillance footage. “The message was sent through a secure channel. No digital footprint.”
Luis leaned forward. “But it had to come from somewhere.”
Ethan tapped a few keys. “I ran a trace through every known contact Elise has blacklisted. Nothing.”
Luis studied the screen, eyes narrowing. “That’s what worries me.”
Ethan glanced at him. “How so?”
Luis’s voice was quiet. “If they were sloppy, we’d have a lead by now. But they weren’t.” His gaze darkened. “They knew exactly how to reach her—and how to disappear afterward.”
Ethan exhaled. “Then we’re dealing with someone who knows her well.”
Luis nodded. “And someone who’s patient.”
A tense silence settled between them.
Finally, Ethan spoke. “So where do we start?”
Luis closed the tablet, standing. “We do what we do best.”
Ethan arched a brow.
Luis’s expression was cool, but his voice carried weight.
“We find out who wants Elise to believe in ghosts.”
The computer screen blinked back at them—empty.
No leads. No trace. Nothing.
Ethan pushed back from the desk, exhaling sharply. “This is impossible.”
Luis didn’t react. He just scrolled through the data again, expression unreadable. Calm. Too calm.
Ethan crossed his arms. “Whoever sent that message erased their tracks before we even started looking.”
Luis didn’t disagree. “They’re careful.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “They’re mocking us.”
Luis finally looked up. “Or they’re warning us to stop digging.”
A beat of silence.
Then Ethan leaned in, voice low. “You think Elise is being watched?”
Luis held his gaze. “I think she always has been.”
Ethan exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “So what now?”
Luis didn’t answer right away. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he shut the laptop with a quiet snap.
“We rethink everything.”
Ethan scoffed. “That’s your answer?”
Luis met his frustration with something colder. Sharper.
“No. That’s our only option.”
Ethan clenched his fists, exhaling through his nose.
For the first time, he felt it—not just frustration, but something deeper.
A sense of foreboding settled over them, a creeping realization that they weren't just chasing a ghost. They were already caught in the trap, ensnared by the very threads they'd tried to unravel.
- Writer
