Liam stared ahead at the steady stream of students walking by. Some glanced at the SUV, some didn't. None of them could imagine the layers beneath this mission.
> "Understood. I'll update you again after pickup," Liam said.
> "Good. And Liam?"
> "Yes, sir?"
> "Don't get too close. She's not just a mission. She's bait-whether she knows it or not."
The line went dead.
Liam sighed, leaned his head back for a second, but didn't close his eyes. He never did-not in public. Never while on duty. Especially not with her.
Four hours passed. The sun crept higher. Students came and went.
But Liam remained exactly where he was, back straight, eyes alert, not a trace of exhaustion in his expression. A silent, composed wall of restraint.
Then she appeared.
Ariana walked out of the building with the confidence of someone who was used to attention.
But her eyes shifted when she saw him still sitting in the driver's seat, exactly as she'd left him-no phone in hand, no nap, no break.
Just... there.
For a brief second, something flickered in her eyes. Surprise. Maybe even a little guilt.
But as quickly as it came, it vanished behind a sneer.
She approached slowly, arms folded, chin tilted high. "Do you ever blink?"
Liam stepped out and opened the back door for her without a word.
She didn't enter. Not yet.
Instead, she stood beside him, staring at him as if sizing up a new enemy. "You just sit there all day? Like some well-trained mutt?"
He didn't flinch.
"I mean..." She let out a bitter laugh. "You think you're different from me? We're both puppets. At least I admit it."
Still, he said nothing.
"I'm waiting for it, you know," she whispered, stepping a little closer. "That one slip-up. That one tiny mistake. Just one. And my father will toss you into whatever pit he pulled you out of."
Her words hung in the air like venom.
Liam didn't respond. He simply stepped back slightly and held the door open wider.
"Your seat, Miss Westbrook."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "One day, that professional poker face is going to crack."
He tilted his head politely. "Perhaps."
She hissed under her breath, climbed into the car, and slammed the door harder than necessary.
But even then, Liam didn't react.
He simply closed the door with a quiet click, walked around the vehicle, and resumed his position behind the wheel.
Unmoved. Unshaken.
But deep inside, his mind echoed with the last thing he'd heard on the secure line.
> "Don't get too close. She's not just a mission... she's bait."
> But what if the bait was more dangerous than the trap?
And what if, somehow, Liam wasn't the only one being watched?
Just as Liam settled back behind the wheel, his hand barely touched the ignition when Ariana's phone-tossed carelessly on the back seat-lit up and buzzed violently.
She snatched it up, expecting another gossip update.
But what she saw made her blood run cold.
Her fingers trembled.
Liam noticed instantly. "What is it?"
She didn't respond. She simply turned the screen toward him.
It was a video.
Of her. At the club.
But this time... it wasn't the same blurry, shaky clips that had trended online.
This one was high quality. Too high.
From a hidden angle. Zoomed in. Crystal clear. Watching her long before the kiss ever happened.
And worst of all?
The message below it read:
> "You're next. – X"
Liam's entire body tensed.
Without a word, he started the engine and hit the accelerator harder than he meant to.
Ariana grabbed the handle as the SUV swerved into the road.
"What the hell is going on?!" she shouted.
But Liam's eyes were sharp, focused.
"We've been compromised."
Ariana's breathing grew shallow as she stared at the screen, the message burned into her brain like acid.
Her grip on the phone was so tight, her knuckles whitened. "Who the hell is 'X'?" she asked, but her voice wasn't full of venom this time.
It was something else. Uncertainty. Fear. Vulnerability. Liam glanced at her briefly through the rearview mirror, but didn't answer immediately.
His jaw was locked, muscles ticking. Whoever "X" was, Liam didn't look surprised-they'd clearly anticipated threats. Just not this soon.
Not this direct. And not this precise.
The SUV turned off the main road and into a narrower, less visible path surrounded by tall hedges and private fences.
Ariana looked up, alarmed. "Where are we going?" she demanded. Liam tapped his earpiece once, then spoke under his breath. "Safehouse.
We need to reroute before the signal trails us. This isn't a random scare tactic. Someone wants you rattled-and they've been watching for a long time."
Ariana's mouth opened to protest, but before she could get a word out, Liam's phone buzzed with a priority alert.
> A live feed.
From inside the Westbrook mansion.
And in the center of the grainy footage-was Ariana's bedroom.
Empty.
Except for the figure now seated on her bed.
Wearing her bracelet.
> And staring straight at the hidden camera.
Ariana's voice dropped to a whisper. "That's my room." Her eyes stayed glued to the screen like it might swallow her whole.
"That's my bracelet.
I left it on the dresser this morning." Liam's grip on the steering wheel tightened, the leather creaking faintly beneath his fingers. "Then whoever this is... they've been in your space.
They're not just watching anymore. They're inside." Ariana recoiled into the seat like she could pull herself away from what was already too close.
Her walls, her locks, her last illusion of control-shattered.
"Why are they doing this?" she asked, but Liam had no answer. Or maybe he did, but wasn't ready to say it.
As the SUV pulled into a shadowy garage beneath an unmarked building, Liam shifted into park but didn't move.
His voice was low, calculated. "Get your things. We'll only be here a few hours. Then we disappear again." Ariana hesitated.
"We? You mean I'm stuck with you?" His gaze met hers in the rearview mirror-cold, unreadable.
"Until I know who wants you dead... yes." She almost laughed, a bitter sound rising in her throat.
"So I am bait." Liam didn't confirm it, but he didn't deny it either. And that silence told her everything.
Just then, Liam's burner phone buzzed with a restricted message. He opened it-and his breath caught. A picture. Fresh. Timestamped.
Of him.
Standing beside the SUV.
Taken less than a minute ago.
From inside the garage.
-