The chill of the midnight air bit at Leonie's exposed skin as she navigated the overgrown path to the abandoned factory in Geneva. Moonlight, thin and watery, barely pierced the heavy cloud cover, casting long, distorted shadows that danced with her every step. The place reeked of damp concrete and forgotten dreams, a fitting rendezvous point for their illicit discussions.
Jannis was already there, a silhouette leaning against a crumbling brick wall. A confident smile flickered on his face as Leonie approached, her breath still catching in her throat from the brisk walk.
"I have some news flash for you," Jannis announced, his voice slicing through the silence.
Leonie didn't waste time on pleasantries. "What is the news?" she asked, her voice flat, betraying none of the simmering impatience within her.
"I wanted to tell you that my friend did find where the address where David was hiding," Jannis continued, pushing off the wall. "I'm sure that I think we're finally going to find him."
A current of dark satisfaction pulsed through Leonie. "Yes," she whispered, the word a venomous hiss. "And I think this is the best news I ever heard. I want to find him and kill the rest of his family." The thought sent a cold thrill down her spine.
"Of course," Jannis agreed smoothly, his smile unwavering. "You will get so excited to find them now, and I'm sure that maybe this is our last chance."
Leonie nodded, her mind already racing with scenarios, but then an unrelated, infuriating memory surfaced. "Hmm... last time in the company, I just encountered Walter and Judith applying work to my company."
Jannis's confident expression faltered, replaced by a frown. "What?! With Walter?!" he exclaimed, a note of genuine surprise in his voice.
"Yes, I know, Jasmin's brother," Leonie seethed, the memory adding fuel to her internal fire. "And besides, I just even get mad for her, after what she did to Sonja."
Jannis looked genuinely puzzled. "I thought she was been taken to the mental hospital years ago, and what is related to her with Sonja?"
Leonie scoffed, the irony bitter in her mouth. "It is related that she impersonated to be Janina, and I know that it was her stupid idea to get her arrested with Dirk, and it is possible that she already escaped in the mental hospital for so long." The realization hit her with sickening clarity.
"Oh, now you realize she wasn't anymore and that wasn't even obvious to me at all," Jannis murmured, shaking his head. "And I don't know if I also have to find her, but first let's finish David, before he would demand us to the police or what."
"I know," Leonie agreed, pushing the unsettling thought of Jasmin to the back of her mind for now. David was the priority. "But this time you have to be extra careful." The shadows around them seemed to deepen, heavy with unspoken threats and the weight of their grim intentions.
The sleek train slid into Zurich, and an hour later, a taxi dropped Jasmin and Martin at the end of a long, winding driveway. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and immense wealth. David's house wasn't a house; it was a modern fortress of gleaming glass and pale stone overlooking the city.
"Wow," Martin breathed, his head tilted back. "Is this place bigger than Heinen's entire estate?"
Jasmin's stance was rigid, her eyes already scanning the windows and perimeter. "Well, people with stupidly large houses usually need stupid amounts of protection," she said, her tone all business. She strode to the entrance, her finger jamming the doorbell with a confidence she hadn't felt in months. She was aware of the security camera swivelling towards her—a single, unblinking eye.
Inside, David hunched over a monitor, a wave of relief washing over him. He recognized her instantly. He dashed to the door, pulling it open to reveal the woman he'd pinned his hopes on.
"Oh, thank god," he exclaimed, his shoulders sagging. "I feel safe already. I'm so glad you're here."
"David," Jasmin nodded, a professional smile fixed on her face. "You asked for help, and help has arrived. This is my friend, Martin. He's local."
David greeted Martin warmly before leading them past a grand staircase and out back to a separate guesthouse. Inside, Fabienne was already waiting, looking effortlessly cool. David gestured around the spacious, beautifully appointed interior. "This is for you. Rest, work, whatever you need."
Jasmin ran a hand over the polished oak of a dresser, a rare, genuine smile touching her lips. "It's… splendid. Better than the alternative."
"Good," David said, turning back to the door. "Now, Jasmin, let me give you that tour of the main house." She followed eagerly, leaving Martin to unpack.
He'd barely set his bag down when Fabienne spoke, her voice laced with amusement. "So, what's your exact role here, Aladdin?"
Martin looked up, confused. "I'm just… staying. There's nothing wrong with that."
Fabienne's smirk widened. "I didn't say there was. I just find it interesting that you're 'just staying' in the guesthouse of the woman you're here to 'support.'"
"What are you getting at?" he asked, his defensiveness a thin veil.
"Really? You followed her here to another country, under the guise of support. You're not a bodyguard, Martin. You're here for her." She leaned against the doorframe, her gaze piercing. "Tell me you're in love with her."
Martin's throat felt tight. He couldn't lie to her, not when she saw through everything. "Why should I tell you? I'm just looking out for her. I don't want her ending up back in that hospital."
"Or maybe," Fabienne countered softly, "you just don't want to be without her."
He sighed, the fight draining out of him. "Okay," he admitted, his voice low. "I admit it. I like her. A lot. We've gotten so close, and it feels like… we're meant to be."
Fabienne's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "You could say that, Aladdin."
The clock ticked loudly in David's cavernous kitchen as Jasmin drained her wineglass in one gulp. The house loomed around her, its empty rooms casting long shadows that seemed to stretch like skeletal fingers. She set the glass down with a clink, eyeing the arched doorways as if they might swallow her whole.
"This place is a maze," she said, more to herself than David, who stood by the toaster, his back to her. "You're making it sound haunted."
David turned, holding up a second slice of burnt toast. His smile was tired, the kind that didn't reach his eyes. "Not haunted. Just… fortified. After what happened to Claire, I figured the best way to keep Lily safe was to make this place impossible to find. And when you do, well…" He shrugged, gesturing to the high ceilings. "…you get ghosts."
Jasmin studied him—how his hand trembled slightly as he passed her the toast, how his gaze kept drifting to the staircase, as if expecting a stranger to descend. She knew that particular kind of fear. The one carved by loss.
"I have a kid too," she said softly. "Back in Berlin. A daughter. I know what you're carrying around, David. That weight of what if."
His expression shifted, some barrier between them breaking. "You don't have to carry it alone anymore," he said, collapsing onto a barstool. "Florentin vouched for you. Said you're the best. That you can take down a dozen men with a flick of your wrist."
Jasmin barked a laugh, tearing into her toast. "A dozen? Exaggeration. But yes—I do my job." She paused. "And I want to do yours. Find who did this. Burn them out."
David hesitated. "You think you can? The syndicate… they're a fog. No face, no name. Just… there."
Her fingers stilled on her glass. A fog. She'd heard that before—Janina's voice, frayed and desperate, whispering about faceless men who'd driven her sister to the edge. Jasmin had spent months hunting ghosts then, until justice became a pyre she lit herself.
"I know fog," she said finally. "It parts when you're ready to bleed for it."
The silence thickened between them, broken only by the distant hum of the fridge. Then David stood, his voice low and urgent. "Lily's in Germany. Safe. But I need her to stay safe. I'll pay double. Whatever it takes."
Jasmin shook her head. "Money won't make them vanish. But I can. Let me in on what you know."
He didn't answer, but his eyes flicked toward the hallway—a half-ajar door she hadn't noticed before. Her hand drifted to the knife on the counter, its edge glinting in the dim light.
"Nothing's free," she continued, leaning in. "But I'll take the ghosts. All of them."
A floorboard creaked upstairs. Both froze. David's breath hitched; Jasmin's pulse roared in her ears.
"Who's there?" David whispered.
No answer. Just the whisper of wind through the house's many cracks.
Jasmin stood, her voice steel. "They're not taking anyone else. Not while I'm here."
In the shadows, something shifted. And Jasmin smiled—a slow, sharp thing.
She'd hunted fog before.
This time, she'd let it find her.
When he emerged, towel clutched at his waist, Jasmin was already in the room. Her suitcase lay half-unpacked, but her gaze wasn't on the clothes. It tracked the line of water dripping down his chest, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
"Oh, Martin," she said, voice catching. Her cheeks flushed, and she took a step back, toward the door.
He caught her wrist, his grip gentle but insistent. "Don't leave. What were you going to say?"
She blinked, shaken from whatever trance she'd been in. "I… don't know. It slipped my mind."
"Then maybe later," he said, releasing her. "I was thinking—unless you'd prefer the couch—you could take the bed."
Jasmin shook her head, a small laugh escaping her. "I remember now. I was going to say I never realized how… distracting you are."
Martin smirked, toweling off his hair. "Careful. Compliments like that are dangerous."
"Dangerous?" She arched an eyebrow, stepping closer. "I'm offering you a bed, Martin. Don't be choosy. We're adults. I won't complain if you're in it."
The innuendo hung between them, familiar and electric. He met her eyes, the unspoken history between them crackling like static. "You're sure about this?"
She shrugged, already climbing onto the mattress. "The bed's too big. Besides, you should've known I'd want you close."
In the dim light, Martin saw the shadows under her eyes—the stress of the job she'd taken in Zurich, the distance that had frayed them before. "You think Sidel misses you?" he asked, the name slipping out before he could correct it.
Jasmin stiffened, then sighed. "You mean someone? Of course. But I'm not disappearing forever. I've got my life now."
He nodded, but the worry lingered.
In Wuppertal, Judith leaned into Walter's shoulder, the popcorn between them forgotten. The romantic comedy onscreen fizzled, but neither noticed.
"What if Jasmin gets hurt?" Walter murmured. "She's not… whole yet."
"She's stronger than you think," Judith said, tracing his hand with her thumb. "You're in Wuppertal now, trying to build a future. Let her do the same."
Walter exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing. "And your idea of 'getting to know my daughter'?"
She grinned. "I'm serious, Walter. Let me meet her. See for yourself."
The movie crescendo with a kiss, and Walter kissed Judith then—soft, lingering—as if he could stitch their futures together with it.
Outside, rain began to patter against the window, a quiet rhythm that mirrored the unresolved beats of two stories converging, neither quite ready to end.
***
The Zurich air, thick with the promise of rain, did little to soothe Leonie's fraying nerves. Five hours. They had been pacing these cobblestone streets for five endless hours, and David was still a ghost. She shot a venomous glare at Jannis, who was leaning against the cold brick of a storefront, looking utterly defeated.
"Ugh… this is just stupid and ridiculous," she hissed, her voice a low whip-crack in the bustling crowd. "And you should have asked Albert about this!"
Jannis pushed himself off the wall, his face a mask of weary frustration. "I don't know where they could be now. Maybe they just want to play a game with us. Let's try to call them again."
"He changed his number," Leonie snapped, throwing her hands up. "And I don't know what else to do!"
A flicker of something—fear, maybe anticipation—crossed Jannis's face. He lowered his voice, leaning closer. "Oh, okay. Well, I did tell the other men they were going to kill him and that they were all going to steal his money. I believe it was hidden there, too."
A grim smile touched Leonie's lips for the first time all day. "Good. Because today I don't want to get stressed out. I'm supposed to be relaxed, not pissed like this."
"Don't worry," Jannis said, his tone flat. "I'm trying to do my job."
"Good." Leonie's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Once that I mentioned Jasmin Hoppe… she's just familiar to you, I see. Don't you mind telling me about it?"
The name hit Jannis like a physical blow. He felt the air leave his lungs, the present moment dissolving into the static of the past. He looked away from Leonie, his gaze lost in the throng of strangers. "You see," he began, his voice raspy, "it was a long time ago."
"About what?" Leonie prodded, relentless.
"You know we had a relationship then. She was twelve, and I was in love with Jasmin. Then… she got pregnant with my child and never told me. Not until I heard it from an argument between her and Walter."
Flashback
The year was 2001. Jannis had sprinted to Jasmin's house, a letter clutched in his hand, but he'd stopped dead at the sound of shouting. Through a crack in the door, he saw them. Walter, his face red with fury, and Jasmin, small and defiant, her arms crossed over her stomach.
"What happened to you?" Walter roared. "Don't you know you're ruining your future?!"
"What do you want me to do?!" Jasmin shot back, her voice trembling with anger and fear.
"You're letting your own father manipulate you because you're afraid! Because he's being 'nice' to you!"
"At least I told you I can handle this! He told me he'd never leave me behind, no matter what happens."
"But what are you going to do?" Walter's voice softened with pity, which was somehow worse. "I think Jannis is also never ready to be a father for your child."
Walter stormed out, brushing past the door without seeing Jannis. Left alone, Jasmin's face crumpled. She scrawled a silly, crying face on the wall with a stray pencil and began talking to it in a hushed, fractured voice.
Do you think Jannis is not ready to be a father?
I don't know... a hallucinated voice seemed to answer.
Oh, you really think so...
Besides, I think he's going to be ready...
Jannis watched, frozen in the doorway, as his twelve-year-old girlfriend laughed softly at her drawing, a world of her own making to shield her from a reality that was too much to bear.
Flashback ended
"That's what happened," Jannis said, his voice hollow. "After that, something horrible occurred. My uncle… he made me stay away from her. He told me how dangerous she was."
"Oh, come on, Jannis," Leonie scoffed, yanking him back to the present. "How dangerous is Jasmin? I can't believe you let yourself fall in love with that psychopath woman!"
"I don't care," he muttered, a familiar ache spreading through his chest.
"Well, I do. I realize she is, and I never liked a psycho like her in the first place. She's the reason she ruined Sonja's family." She leaned in, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "So, what are you planning to do?"
"I still want the money," Jannis said, his focus returning, if only partially. "I need to get Sonja out of prison and help her get her son back. That's my first goal." He looked at Leonie, a genuine question in his eyes. "How about you? Are you not planning to see your baby, or what?"
"Why should I plan that?" Jannis's voice was barely a whisper. "I mean… I just don't know what my son looks like."
"Son?" Leonie's interest was piqued. "Did you see your child before?"
"No. Not even one glance," he admitted, the shame of it burning his throat. "Jasmin ran away after what happened."
A heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the city's hum.
"But if there's a chance I could see my child," Jannis continued, more to himself than to Leonie, "just once… I hope she or he could have a great future now."
"I don't believe your kid is having a nice future," Leonie said pragmatically. "Besides, I think you're having your chance now."
She was right. The hunt for David was no longer just about money. It was about clearing a path, finding a way to fix the past. And for the first time in years, Jannis felt a glimmer of a purpose that was entirely his own. He had to find his child.