Alyssa’s POV
The walls seemed to close in on me as I paced the small room, the echoes of the mysterious call still reverberating in my head. “Everything you know is a lie.” Those words had taken root, worming their way into my every thought.
The raid was just hours away, and the FBI was counting on me. Ethan and Xavier were dangerous, yes, but predictable. Now, a new variable had entered the equation, one that could blow everything up: a woman claiming to be my mother.
I sank into the chair by the window, rubbing my temples. My phone lay on the table, mocking me with its silence.
What if she was telling the truth? What if there was more to my father’s death?
But then again, what if it was a trap?
The door creaked open, and Isabella stepped inside, her sharp eyes taking me in.
“You’re spiraling,” she said, crossing her arms. “What happened?”
I hesitated, weighing my words. “I got a call. From someone claiming to be my… mother.”
Her eyes widened, and for a split second, her usual calm facade cracked.
“That’s impossible. Alyssa, your mother’s-”
“Dead,” I interrupted, finishing her sentence. “I know. But she knew things about me, Isabella. Things no one else could.”
Her jaw tightened. “And you believed her? After everything we’ve been through? Every trap you’ve walked into?”
“I don’t know what to believe!” I snapped, standing. “But what if she’s telling the truth? What if this is my only chance to find out what really happened to my father?”
Isabella stepped closer, her voice low and urgent. “This is a distraction, Alyssa. The raid is our priority. You can’t let some ghost from your past derail you now.”
I turned away, staring out the window. The street below was empty, eerily quiet. Just like my life would be if I ran from this.
“I have to know, Isabella,” I said finally. “I’ll go alone. You stay here, handle the exit plan if the raid goes south.”
She grabbed my arm, her grip firm. “No. If you walk into this alone, you won’t walk out. Whoever called you, whether it’s your mother or not, is playing a dangerous game. You’re the pawn, Alyssa.”
Her words cut deep, but they weren’t enough to change my mind.
“Then let me be the pawn,” I said quietly. “At least this time, I’m choosing the board.”
The address the woman had given me was tucked away in a desolate part of town-an abandoned warehouse, its windows shattered and its walls covered in graffiti.
The air was thick with tension as I stepped inside, every nerve in my body on high alert. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the vast, empty space.
“Hello?” I called, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay calm.
Silence.
This is a mistake, I thought, my hand instinctively reaching for the small pistol tucked into my waistband.
A shadow moved at the edge of my vision, and I spun around, my heart racing.
“Alyssa,” a voice said, smooth and familiar.
From the shadows emerged a man I hadn’t seen in years, but his face was burned into my memory. Calvin Devereaux.
He’d been one of my father’s closest associates, a man who had disappeared after my father’s murder. The sight of him was like a punch to the gut.
“Calvin?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He smirked, his hands in his pockets as he casually approached. “You’ve grown up, Alyssa. Looks like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess.”
I backed away, my mind racing. “You’re working for the third player, aren’t you? This was all a setup.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Always so quick to jump to conclusions. But you’re not wrong. I am working for someone, and they’re very interested in you.”
“Where’s the woman?” I demanded, my grip tightening on the gun. “The one who called me? Who claimed to be my mother?”
His smirk faded, replaced by a look of genuine amusement. “Oh, Alyssa. You still think you’re the one in control, don’t you?”
Before I could react, he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “She was never going to meet you. The call was a lure, a way to get you here.”
My stomach churned. “Why?”
“Because you’re the key,” he said simply. “To all of it. To Ethan. To Xavier. To your father’s legacy. And to the third player’s plans.”
The sound of footsteps echoed behind me, and I spun around, only to find two more men emerging from the shadows, their faces obscured.
“This doesn’t have to get ugly,” Calvin said, his tone almost mocking. “Come with us quietly, and no one gets hurt. At least, not yet.”
My mind raced. Three against one. No escape route. No backup.
“I’d rather die than help the third player,” I spat, raising the gun.
Calvin raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Brave words. Let’s see if you mean them.”
As the men closed in, a sudden noise cut through the tension-a low rumble, followed by the unmistakable sound of tires screeching to a halt outside.
Calvin froze, his smirk faltering for the first time. “What the-”
The warehouse doors burst open, and a flood of blinding light spilled inside. Voices shouted commands, and the distinct sound of boots hitting the ground filled the air.
The FBI.
Or so I thought.
Among the chaos, a familiar figure stepped forward, his face illuminated by the headlights. My heart sank as recognition hit me like a freight train.
Ethan.