Chapter 3 Whispers in The Dark

Chapter 3: Whispers in the Dark.

The streets of Crestwood felt different tonight. Monica moved with purpose, her senses heightened as she navigated the dimly lit alleyways. The name on the paper Gad had given her had rattled her more than she cared to admit. If he truly was behind her parents' deaths, then she had been chasing a ghost for ten years.

She clenched her fists. Ready or not, she would find the truth herself.

A soft chime from her phone pulled her from her thoughts. A message from her contact.

"Number traced. The signal bounced, but the origin pings near Pier 17. Careful."

Monica's lips pressed into a thin line. The docks-where Gad had led her before. Was it a coincidence, or was he still pulling the strings?

She exhaled and quickened her pace. She'd find out soon enough.

Gad stood on the rooftop of an abandoned building near the docks, his sharp gaze sweeping the streets below. He had expected Monica to follow the lead he'd given her, but he also knew she wouldn't come blindly. She was too smart for that.

A voice crackled in his earpiece. "She's close. East entrance."

Gad smirked. Right on time.

He tapped the earpiece. "Keep watch. Make sure no one else is following."

"Understood."

Gad took a slow breath. Everything was moving faster than planned. He needed Monica to understand what she was walking into, but he also knew she wouldn't listen until she saw it for herself.

And once she did, there would be no turning back.

Monica reached Pier 17 and slowed her pace, scanning the area. The docks were mostly quiet, save for the occasional distant hum of a cargo ship. She pulled her hood up, blending into the shadows as she approached the spot her contact had marked.

A small warehouse loomed ahead, its doors slightly ajar. She slipped inside, her fingers brushing against the dagger at her waist.

The air smelled of salt and rust. Stacks of crates lined the space, and faint light trickled in through the high windows. She moved carefully, her boots silent against the concrete floor.

A sound-faint, but distinct.

She tensed. Someone was here.

A shadow shifted near the crates. Monica reacted instantly, grabbing her dagger and spinning toward the movement.

"Easy," a familiar voice murmured.

Gad stepped into the light, his hands raised slightly.

Monica narrowed her eyes. "I should have known you'd be here."

"And yet, you came anyway." His gaze flickered to the dagger in her grip. "Still planning to use that?"

She hesitated, then lowered it-slightly. "That depends. Are you still lying to me?"

Gad sighed. "I never lied. You just weren't asking the right questions."

Monica's jaw clenched. "Then let me ask the right ones now. What do you know about Victor Langley? And why did someone try to warn me off?"

Gad studied her for a moment before speaking. "Langley was more than your father's business partner. He was the one pulling the strings. And when your parents discovered what he was really involved in, he had them silenced."

A chill ran down Monica's spine. "And you? Where do you fit into all of this?"

"I was working for him." Gad's voice was steady. "Until I realized what he was willing to do to cover his tracks. I tried to stop it, but by the time I got there... it was too late."

Monica's breath caught. The fire. The night she had seen him standing over her parents' bodies.

"I know what you saw that night," Gad continued. "But you didn't see everything. Langley set that fire. He made sure there were no witnesses. Or so he thought."

Monica's pulse pounded in her ears. "If that's true, then why haven't you taken him down?"

Gad's expression darkened. "Because Langley isn't just one man. He's part of something bigger. And if you go after him without knowing what you're up against, you won't survive."

Monica tightened her grip on the dagger. "I've survived this long."

Gad stepped closer, his voice quiet but firm. "This isn't about surviving. It's about winning. And right now, you don't have the pieces to do that."

She hated that he sounded like he was right.

A sudden noise cut through the tension-a metallic clang from the far end of the warehouse.

Monica and Gad moved at the same time, pressing into the shadows as footsteps echoed in the distance. A figure appeared near the entrance, their silhouette barely visible.

A second figure followed. Then a third.

Monica exchanged a look with Gad. Unwelcome company.

"They're looking for you," Gad murmured. "You stirred up the wrong nest."

Monica's heart pounded. "Then let's make sure they regret it."

Gad's smirk was brief. "Try to keep up."

The first attacker moved fast, but Monica was faster. She ducked low, sweeping the man's legs out from under him before driving her elbow into his chest. He hit the ground with a grunt.

Gad took down the second one with brutal efficiency, dodging a knife strike before twisting the assailant's arm and slamming him against a crate.

The third man hesitated, clearly reconsidering his odds. But before he could retreat, Monica had him against the wall, her dagger pressed to his throat.

"Who sent you?" she demanded.

The man glared but said nothing.

Gad stepped beside her, pulling a folded piece of paper from the man's jacket pocket. He glanced at it, his expression unreadable.

Then he handed it to Monica.

She unfolded it-and felt the ground shift beneath her feet.

Her own name was scrawled across the paper. Along with two words:

Terminate immediately.

A cold realization settled in her chest. This wasn't just about her parents anymore.

Now, they were coming for her.

Gad met her eyes. "Still think you're ready?"

Monica swallowed hard. "I don't have a choice."

Gad nodded. "Then let's make sure you stay alive long enough to finish this."

Outside, the city stretched before them, its lights flickering against the darkness. And in that darkness, shadows moved-watching, waiting.

But Monica wasn't running anymore but hunting.