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Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless!
img img Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless! img Chapter 4 4
4 Chapters
Chapter 7 7 img
Chapter 8 8 img
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 100 img
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Chapter 4 4

The driveway was empty. The town car was gone.

Journey stood on the gravel, the sky above threatening rain. The wind whipped her hair across her face.

Higgins came out the side door. He held a large black umbrella and extended it to her.

"Take care of yourself, Miss," he whispered.

Journey took the handle. Her fingers brushed his. "Thank you, Higgins."

It was the first honest thing she had said all day.

She pulled out her phone and opened Uber. She typed in the address from the file. Astoria, Queens.

While she waited, her phone buzzed.

Augustin: Boss, do you need the chopper? Or a extraction team?

Journey typed back with one thumb. No. I'm taking the scenic route.

A black Uber XL pulled up. The driver, a man with a thick neck and zero patience, popped the trunk but didn't get out. Journey heaved the heavy Louis Vuitton trunks into the back herself. A fingernail snapped-her index finger. She looked at the jagged edge, frowned, and slammed the trunk shut.

The car smelled of pine air freshener and stale cigarettes. As they crossed the Triborough Bridge, the city changed. The glass and steel of Manhattan receded, replaced by the low, sprawling brick of Queens.

Graffiti tagged the sides of buildings. Laundromats replaced boutiques.

The car stopped in front of a six-story red brick building. The fire escape on the front was rusted orange. A garbage can near the entrance was overflowing, a pizza box precarious on top.

"This is it," the driver grunted. "Hurry up, I'm blocking the hydrant."

Journey stood on the sidewalk. The noise was immediate-reggaeton blasting from a passing car, a siren wailing in the distance, kids shouting.

She looked up at the building. It looked tired.

A teenager on a skateboard woven past her, missing her toes by an inch. "Watch it, princess," he jeered.

Journey ignored him. She dragged the trunks into the vestibule. The air inside was thick with the smell of fried onions and bleach.

She pressed the elevator button. Nothing happened. She saw the piece of notebook paper taped to the metal doors: OUT OF ORDER.

Journey closed her eyes for a second. Fourth floor.

She kicked off her heels. She picked them up, holding them by the straps in one hand. With the other, she grabbed the handle of the first trunk.

The stairs were narrow and covered in linoleum that was peeling at the corners. By the second floor, her arms were burning. By the third, sweat was trickling down her back, ruining her silk blouse.

A door cracked open on the third floor. An older woman with curlers in her hair peered out. She looked at Journey-barefoot, holding expensive shoes, dragging a trunk worth more than the woman's car.

Journey nodded. "Good afternoon."

The woman slammed the door shut.

Journey reached the fourth floor. She was gasping for air. She stood in front of apartment 4B. The name Cobb was written on a piece of masking tape stuck to the door.

Inside, voices were raised.

"We don't have it, Elara! The rent is due and the medical bills..." A man's voice. Desperate.

"We can sell the truck," a woman sobbed.

Journey froze. Her hand hovered over the wood. This was real. This wasn't a boardroom negotiation. This was survival.

She knocked. Three sharp raps.

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