Selene's POV
We walked the rest of the way to my building. Asher held my hand. Neither of us spoke.
My building looked normal. Quiet. No one waiting outside.
But I knew better now. Normal meant nothing.
We took the stairs. Third floor. My door.
My hands shook as I unlocked it.
Asher stepped in first. Checked every room. Every closet.
"Clear," he said finally.
I closed the door. Locked it. Leaned against it.
Home. I was home.
But it did not feel safe anymore.
Asher's POV
The apartment was small. Clean. Full of art.
Her art. My art? Some of the paintings on the walls looked like mine.
Selene stood in the living room. Looking lost.
"Where's the bedroom?" I asked.
She pointed. I followed her in.
The closet was at the back. She kneeled. Pulled at a loose floorboard.
Beneath it, a metal box.
She lifted it out. Sat on the floor. Opened it.
Papers. Photos. A small velvet pouch.
"What's all this?" I kneeled beside her.
"Insurance." She pulled out the papers. "Copies of everything I could find. My grandfather's records. Bank statements. Letters."
"Letters?"
Selene handed me a yellowed envelope.
I pulled out the letter inside. Old handwriting. Faded ink.
"Ardent took more than his share. I have proof. If anything happens to me, use it."
I looked at her. "Your grandfather wrote this?"
"He suspected Lucien's family was stealing. Cheating him. He gathered evidence. But before he could act, he died. Heart attack."
"Convenient."
"Very."
I kept reading. Numbers. Dates. Transactions that made no sense unless someone was hiding money.
"This is gold," I whispered. "This proves his family was the thief. Not yours."
Selene nodded. "But Lucien has his own proof. Documents that make my grandfather look like the guilty one."
"So it's his word against a dead man's."
"Yes. Unless we find something that proves his documents are fake."
I looked through more papers. Bank statements. Old photographs.
And then I found it.
A photograph of two men. Young. Smiling. One looked like Lucien's father. The other like Selene's grandfather.
On the back, handwriting.
"With William Ardent. Partners. 1985. Before he tried to ruin me."
I showed Selene.
"Your grandfather knew. He wrote it down. Before he died."
Selene's eyes widened. "That's proof. Real proof. That Lucien's family was the one who betrayed first."
"Where did you get this?"
"It was in a box of my grandmother's things. After she passed. I almost threw it away."
I pulled her close. Kissed her forehead.
"You saved us."
"I didn't even know what it meant until now."
"Doesn't matter. We have it."
Selene pulled back. Looked at the photo again.
"Asher. If Lucien knows we have this."
"He won't find out."
"He always finds out."
I took the photo. Tucked it safely in the box.
"Then we don't stay here long. Grab what you need. Clothes. Money. Anything important."
Selene nodded. Started moving.
I watched the window. Watched the street below.
Empty. Quiet. Too quiet.
Selene packed a small bag. Clothes. Toiletries. The metal box went in the bottom.
"Ready," she said.
I took her hand. "Let's go."
We were halfway to the door when her phone buzzed.
Selene stopped. Pulled it out.
Her face went pale.
"What is it?"
She turned the screen toward me.
Unknown number.
Nice move. The window at the motel. Clever. You're good. I'll give you that.
I stared at the message.
Selene's hands were shaking.
"He knows we left the motel."
"But he doesn't know where we are now."
"Doesn't he?"
I looked at the message again. No threat. No location. Just acknowledgment.
He was letting her know he was watching. That he knew they had slipped away. That the game was on.
"This is him telling us it's not over," I said.
Selene nodded. Swallowed hard.
"We need somewhere safe. Somewhere he doesn't know."
"I have a friend. Old college roommate. She lives outside the city. She doesn't know Lucien. Doesn't know any of this."
"Can you trust her?"
Selene thought about it. Nodded.
"Yes. I think so."
"Then call her. Let's go."
She made the call. Quick. Quiet. Her friend said yes. Gave an address.
We left the apartment. Took the stairs. Back door. Alley.
No one followed.
But as we walked away, her phone felt heavy in her pocket.
One message. That was all it took.
The game was on.