CHAPTER 63: VENDETTA II

Raquel sat on the couch, curled into herself, knees hugged tight against her chest. Sleep had been impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, that classroom came back, her reflection shifting, Mira’s voice resounding in her head. She was unable to sit still.

Liam stood at the window, one hand braced against the wall, the other tugging the curtain back just enough to peek through. He’d been doing it for nearly half an hour, in sharp and restless movements, he also was on edge.

"Same car’s still there," he muttered, his voice low, "it hasn’t moved from that spot once."

Raquel’s head jerked up. "What car?"

"Black SUV down the street," he said, glancing back at her, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "The windows are tinted, I can’t see inside. It pulled up before sunrise and hasn’t left."

Raquel’s stomach flipped. She gripped her knees tighter. "You think it’s...those same people from New York?"

Liam didn’t answer right away. His silence was answer enough.

Before either of them could spiral further, Mira walked in from the hall, her hair wet from a rushed shower. She’d changed into a t-shirt and slacks now, and her skin looked a bit better. She glanced between them, catching their tension instantly. "What now?"

"There’s a car outside," Raquel said quickly, pointing towards the window.

Mira didn’t even look. She crossed the room, picked up her PC from the table, and set it on her lap with deliberate calm. "Mumbai is a city of twenty million people. We’re staying in a busy street. Cars will always park on the street."

Liam turned from the window, irritation flashing across his face. "Don’t brush it off. It’s been there since before dawn. No one’s gotten in or out."

"Maybe someone slept in it? Maybe someone left it there overnight?" Mira’s tone stayed smooth and controlled, but she was careful not to meet their eyes. "Did you consider that? Not everything should have you tensed up that way."

Raquel stared at her. "Then why do I feel like we’re being watched?"

Mira paused, then finally went to the window herself. She shifted the curtain just enough to peek outside. The SUV sat still, black and gleaming, its windshield reflecting only the sky.

For a heartbeat, her expression faltered. She recognized the shape of that vehicle. It was professional, expensive, not the kind you just rented off a random Mumbai lot. A thread of unease coiled through her chest.

But when she turned back, her face was unreadable again. "It’s nothing."

Raquel’s voice sharpened. "Why do you keep saying that? You looked like death last night, Mira. Your eyes, your skin—you’re hiding something, and now there’s a car outside that hasn’t moved for hours. Don’t tell me it’s nothing."

Mira’s lips curved into a thin smile. "Paranoia isn’t a good look on you, Raquel."

Liam stepped forward then, protective, his voice firm. "We deserve the truth. If there’s danger, we need to know."

Mira opened her mouth to answer—then a sharp knock rattled the apartment door.

The three froze.

No one moved. The sound came again, three steady, deliberate knocks.

Mira recovered first. She walked toward the door with slow steps, her hand brushing against the side table where she had tucked a knife the night before. She didn’t pick it up, but Raquel noticed the gesture.

Mira opened the door.

No one stood outside. Just a plain brown envelope lying on the floor.

She bent, picked it up, and brought it inside. Silence followed her back to the table, where she laid the envelope down. No stamps. No return address. Just their names written across the front: Mira. Raquel. Liam.

Raquel’s breath hitched. "Our names."

Mira said nothing. She opened the envelope with steady fingers, though her pulse was pounding. Inside were several photographs.

Raquel stepping off the plane.

Liam at the Mumbai airport.

Mira entering Everett’s car.

Raquel staggered back, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my God..."

Liam’s fists clenched. "They’ve been watching us."

Mira stared at the photos, her face unreadable, but deep in her chest, she felt the first true flicker of fear. Whoever had sent this... was really after them.

Still, when she finally spoke, her voice was cool, practiced.

"They want us scared. That’s all this is."

But Raquel didn’t believe her anymore.

The silence after the envelope settled felt like a weight pressing into the room. None of them moved.

Then, outside, the deep growl of an engine broke through. Liam darted back to the window in time to see the black SUV pull away, driving slowly, as if the driver wanted to be noticed this time.

Liam let the curtain fall back into place, his jaw tight. "That wasn’t some random car. They were here watching us and left immediately they were sure we got the message."

His gaze snapped to Mira. "Who else knows this address?"

Mira’s face stayed carefully composed. "No one."

"Bullshit," Liam snapped. He pointed to the photos scattered on the table. "They knew exactly where to find us. Someone gave this away. So who else knows?"

Mira’s voice dropped, even she was affected by this new development. "Everett. Only Everett."

Raquel blinked. "Then it’s him?"

Mira shook her head immediately. "No. It can’t be. He’s not even in India right now. He flew to Dubai two nights ago. I saw the flight confirmation myself. Besides, he’s helped us every step of the way. He can’t play such games now." A pause, then she added, "I trust him."

Her eyes flicked to the envelope again, "This isn’t him."

Liam paced, his fists tight at his sides. "Then who the hell is it?"

No one answered.

—

The warehouse office smelled of dust and tobacco, a single fan groaned overhead, blades pushing the heat around without easing it.

The first man’s phone buzzed against the poker table, a sudden vibration in the silence. He just picked it up and pressed it to his ear, his eyes never leaving the half-drawn blinds.

"It’s done," the voice said flatly. "Envelope’s inside. They opened it."

The first man leaned back, exhaling through his nose, controlled and measured. "Anyone see you?"

"No. Dropped it, drove off. Clean exit."

"Good." He ended the call and set the phone face-down.

Across from him, the second man let out a low chuckle and leaned back, his chair creaking. "So it’s in their hands. Right under their noses. That’ll screw with their feeble minds." He grabbed his glass, tapped it against the edge of the table, then took a swallow that left his voice rough. "You can almost hear them panicking from here."

The third man didn’t laugh. He swirled his whiskey slowly, watching the amber cling to the glass.Then he said, "Fear’s like rot. You don’t need much. Just plant it, and it spreads on its own."

"Damn right," the second man said, slamming his glass back down with more force than needed. "And when Koker gets word that his little girl’s running scared? That’ll eat him alive."

He finally reached across the table and slid one of the photos toward him. Mira’s face stared back, caught mid-step outside the airport, oblivious. He pressed his finger over it. "You think she’ll tell him about us?"

"We can only sit tight and watch." The first man replied.

If she does tell him, I’ll know about it." The third man said. "I doubt she will though. She’s trying to lay as low as possible there. I don’t think he’s aware she’s there and she’ll want to keep it that way."

"She thinks she can slip out of sight. But every move she makes tightens the leash." The first man concluded.

The second man leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "So what next? Another message? Keep twisting the knife?"

"Not yet," the first man said. His tone cool, but final. "We keep it cool for now. Let her doubt and fear."

Silence fell. Only the fan creaking overhead, cigarette smoke curling lazily through the air.

The second man broke it with a bitter laugh. "Funny, isn’t it? Years ago, the Singapore branch, he gutted it overnight. Families, jobs, gone. Like sweeping crumbs off a table. I knew then he’d do it to us someday. Guess it’s our turn."

"Exactly." The first man’s voice was almost a murmur, but it carried. "We’re not hitting him in the office. We’re hitting him in the chest. Right where it hurts."

The third man’s glass touched the table with a soft click. His eyes stayed on the melting ice inside it. "Just don’t underestimate her. The girl’s not stupid. And fear doesn’t only make one shrink, it can also sharpen. Corner her too fast, and she might retaliate."

For a beat, the other two were silent. Then the first man allowed himself the faintest smile, "Are we scared of her? Let her bite. Teeth don’t scare us. By the time she takes a solid footing, it’ll already be too late."

The second man lifted his glass in a mock toast. "To Mira. To fear. To Koker finally bleeding."