“If anything happens, call me immediately,” Rowan repeated, his tone unyielding, leaving no room for doubt.
Harvey nodded.
With a final glance at his brother, Harvey turned on his heel and left the room, his footsteps heavy against the floor.
Rowan exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he pulled out his phone. His fingers hovered briefly over the screen before he dialed Kyle’s number. The phone barely rang before Kyle picked up, his voice sharp and alert.
“Boss?” Kyle’s voice came through, his tone as businesslike as ever.
“Where are you?” Rowan asked, his words clipped, not wasting time on pleasantries.
“I’m home, boss. Do you need me to come over?” Kyle replied, already on edge, sensing the urgency in Rowan’s voice.
“No,” Rowan said, his voice a low growl. “I’m sending you a car plate number. I need you to find me the details of its owner. Now.”
There was a brief pause, then Kyle replied, “Sure, boss. Send it over.”
Rowan quickly forwarded the picture of the sedan’s license plate to Kyle and then stood by the large window in his study, staring out into the inky blackness of the night. The weight of what was happening pressed down on him, his mind racing through possible scenarios, dangers lurking in the shadows.
Time dragged on as he waited, his patience wearing thin with every passing second. This wasn’t just about Amara anymore. It was about something bigger, something more calculated.
Just as his thoughts began to spiral deeper into the dangers that surrounded them, his phone buzzed. Kyle was calling back.
Rowan answered immediately. “Yes, Kyle?”
There was a pause on the other end, a hesitation that Rowan didn’t like. His voice sharpened. “Come to the point, Kyle.”
Kyle cleared his throat, the unease in his tone palpable. “Boss, the plate number you sent me… it doesn’t exist.”
Rowan’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. “What do you mean it doesn’t exist?”
“I mean, that’s a fake plate, boss. Whoever’s driving that car, they’re not registered anywhere,” Kyle replied, his voice tense with the weight of what he was saying.
Rowan’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. A fake plate. Whoever had been following Amara had gone through the trouble of concealing their identity.
That meant they weren’t amateurs.
They were professionals, possibly hired for a specific purpose.
His mind raced, already considering the next move.
“Got it,” Rowan said, his voice cold, hanging up without another word.
He stood in silence for a moment, his phone still in his hand as he stared out into the darkness.
A fake plate. It meant that whoever was involved had resources, connections. This wasn’t just a casual threat… it was targeted. They were playing a dangerous game, and Rowan knew better than anyone that in his world, games like this ended in blood.
Rowan ran a hand through his hair, his mind already calculating the next steps.
He needed more information… more than Kyle could provide with just a fake plate.
Someone had gone through great lengths to hide their tracks, but that only meant Rowan had to dig deeper, use every resource he had at his disposal to uncover who was behind this.
Alessandro? Someone else?
There were too many players in the underworld, each with their own motives and agendas.
With a deep breath, Rowan sat down at his desk, opening his laptop.
He opened the picture Harvey had sent him.
Rowan’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the zoomed-in image of the black sedan on his laptop screen. His fingers lightly tapped against the edge of the desk, frustration simmering beneath the surface.
It was a standard car, a common model that half the city probably drove. No distinct features, nothing to immediately flag it as suspicious, other than the timing.
The tinted windows were another layer of protection for whoever was inside, masking their identity and making it nearly impossible to discern anything more from the photograph.
Sighing, Rowan turned to the only other option left.. hacking into the city’s CCTV system. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this, and certainly wouldn’t be the last.
In his world, information was power, and when the usual channels dried up, he had no qualms about bending the rules. He quickly bypassed the security protocols and pulled up the public camera feeds from the city, starting with the area surrounding the Moretti estate.
The first footage revealed nothing. Amara had left the estate without any sign of the black sedan behind her.
Rowan wasn’t surprised.
Whoever this was wouldn’t be foolish enough to follow her from the heavily guarded Moretti estate, where security was tight and eyes were always watching.
It would’ve been too risky.
He moved on to the next set of footage, his fingers flying over the keys as he searched the public cameras along the route Amara had taken.
Again, nothing out of the ordinary.
His impatience grew with each empty frame, but he pushed it down, knowing that whoever was behind this wouldn’t slip up so easily.
Then, in the third camera feed, Rowan’s attention sharpened.
There it was.. the black sedan, emerging from a side street, blending seamlessly with the traffic. It stayed just far enough behind Amara’s car that it could have been anyone, just another vehicle on the road.
But Rowan’s instincts screamed otherwise.
He replayed the footage, studying the car’s movements.
It was subtle, almost invisible to the untrained eye, but the sedan maintained the same distance behind Amara’s car for too long to be a coincidence.
Every turn she made, it followed.
And when she dropped Vaughn off at the school, the black sedan parked a short distance away, idling like a predator stalking its prey.
Rowan’s heart rate picked up, the protective side of him stirring fiercely. He hated the idea that Amara and Vaughn had been followed, that someone had been watching them.
Every fiber of his being screamed to eliminate the threat, to destroy whoever had dared to make this move.
But he couldn’t act blindly.
Not yet.
He continued watching the footage, eyes glued to the screen as Amara left the school after dropping Vaughn off.
And sure enough, the black sedan pulled away just as she did, maintaining the same distance until Harvey’s car came into play.
Rowan watched as his brother expertly inserted himself between the two cars, blocking the sedan’s path.
It was then that the black sedan shifted lanes, blending into the flow of traffic as if it had never intended to follow her in the first place.
Rowan didn’t believe it for a second. Whoever was behind that car was too skilled, too deliberate. They knew when to back off, when to disappear into the shadows.
Rowan rewound the footage again, this time focusing on the moments before Harvey stepped in. He watched as Amara lingered by Vaughn’s school, her eyes scanning the area, her posture tense but composed.
She didn’t panic. Instead, she waited, calm and collected, until Lucas arrived with the guards. Only after she was sure Vaughn was secure did she finally leave.
A small flicker of pride stirred in Rowan’s chest. Even when she didn’t know the full extent of the danger, Amara had acted wisely.
She hadn’t let fear cloud her judgment. Instead, she ensured her son’s safety, handling the situation with the poise and intelligence he admired so much in her.
But that didn’t ease the knot of anger tightening in Rowan’s gut. Someone had followed her. Someone had dared to get that close to Vaughn. That alone was enough to make Rowan’s blood boil. He leaned back in his chair, his mind already calculating his next move.