~LAYLA~
The drive to the Hamptons had been a blur. We switched cars twice, first to a taxi, then to a nondescript sedan Tye had staged in Queens.
By the ti we got to the beach house, the sun had already set, and the ocean looked completely dark, crashing against the shore.
"Stay low," Axel whispered as he unlocked the door.
We entered the house like ghosts. Axel swept the periter with a thermal scanner while I moved to the panic room to arm the internal security grid.
The house was a glass cube sitting on the sand dunes, a place that usually felt bright and relaxing. But tonight, it felt more like a bunker.
"Clear," Axel said. He began setting up his position behind the kitchen island, which offered the best sightlines to the main entrance.
"The pressure sensors and weapons are ard," I reported, returning from the panic room. "If anyone steps within fifty feet of the house, we’ll know."
"Good," Axel said, clicking the scope into place. "The motion-activated caras are online too. Tye is monitoring the feeds remotely, and his n are on standby. If Charles shows up, we’ll have him on multiple angles."
"Do you think he’s already on his way?" I asked, sitting in the armchair facing the glass dooR which was the designated "bait" position. My hands were folded in my lap, concealing the small taser Axel had given .
"If he tracked the phone signal, he saw us leave the city two hours ago," Axel said, checking his watch. "He’ll wait for nightfall to settle. He’ll want the element of surprise."
"Or he’ll want us to think that," I murmured.
"Maybe," Axel agreed. "But arrogance is his weakness. He’ll co. He won’t be able to resist."
We turned off the lights, and the house went dark. The only light ca from the pale moon shining on the waves outside.
And then we waited.
—
Three hours passed.
We had been sitting in the dark living room for three hours. My muscles were cramping from staying perfectly still in the armchair.
Every ti a wave crashed against the shore, it felt like soone was walking nearby, and every rustle of the dune grass sounded like sothing was coming.
Axel was completely still, like a statue hidden in the shadows behind the kitchen island. He held his binoculars pointed at the glass doors, and his breathing was so quiet that no one could hear it.
"Sothing is wrong," I finally said.
"Quiet."
"He should be here by now, Axel. He tracked us as we left the city. It’s a two-hour drive. It’s been three."
Axel dropped his gaze slightly. I could feel the tension coming from him. He felt it too. The rhythm was off. Charles was arrogant, yes, but he was far from slow.
Ring.
The sound broke the silence.
I jumped, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard it hurt.
It wasn’t a cell phone; it was the house landline, an old-fashioned beige phone sitting on the side table next to .
Ring.
Axel and I locked eyes in the dark.
"Nobody has this number," I whispered. "It’s a secure line. Only Tye and the security company know it exists."
Ring.
"Answer it," Axel replied.
I reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"You really should get that draft fixed, Layla," Charles’s voice purred through the line, crystal clear and amused. "The insulation in that beach house has always been terrible. You’ll catch a cold waiting up for ."
My blood ran cold. I turned to face Axel and mouthed Charles.
"Keep him talking. I’ll have Tye trace the line," he mouthed as he left his position.
"Charles. Where are you?" I demanded.
"Where am I?" Charles chuckled softly. He wasn’t outside. The voice sounded too calm and too comfortable, without the usual sounds of the wind or the ocean in the background.
"I’m in a suite at the Pierre, enjoying a rather excellent room service fillet mignon. You didn’t really think I would drive all the way out to the Hamptons in this traffic, did you?"
I froze. "You’re at a hotel?"
"I’m on the FBI’s Most Wanted list, sweetheart," Charles drawled. "And Interpol is quite eager to chat with as well, thanks to your little vendetta. Do you honestly believe I would drive into a kill box prepared by Axel O’Brien? I’m a sociopath, Layla, not an idiot."
Axel cursed silently. He realised it before I did; we were the ones in the cage.
"Then why the photo?" I asked, my voice rising. "Why the bug? Why the threat?"
"Because I wanted to see if I could," Charles said simply. "I wanted to see how fast you would run. I wanted to see if Axel was smart enough to hold his ground, or if his obsession with protecting you would make him reckless."
He paused, and I heard the soft sound of silverware clinking against the plates in the background.
"And there it is," he continued. "He took the Queen off the board and ran to the edge of the map. Leaving his castle unguarded, leaving your business unattended, leaving your entire life on pause because I sent a ten-dollar picture fra to your office."
I felt a flush of humiliation rise up my neck.
"You’re wasting our ti," I spat.
"I’m proving a point," Charles corrected. "I pull a string, and you dance. I say ’jump,’ and you drive three hours to sit in the dark. It’s disappointing, really. I expected more of a fight."
"Co here and say that," Axel growled in a voice loud enough for the phone to pick up.
"Hello, Axel," Charles said cheerfully. "Still acting the rabid dog, I see. No, I don’t think I’ll come there. But I didn’t want you to have a wasted trip. You must be hungry after all that driving and waiting."
Ding-Dong.
The doorbell rang.
I scread, dropping the phone. Axel moved imdiately, placing himself between and the door, drawing his handgun.
"Don’t move," Axel hissed.
We stared at the front door.
"Delivery!" a muffled voice called out. "You ordered pizza!"
Axel stepped to the side of the door and peered through the peephole, lowering his gun a bit.
He unlocked the door and threw it open.
A terrified teenager in a ’Tony’s Pizza’ cap stood there, holding three large boxes.
"Uh... delivery for Charles?" the kid squeaked, looking at the gun in Axel’s hand with wide eyes.
Axel snatched the pizzas. "Go."
The kid ran.
Axel kicked the door shut. He threw the boxes onto the coffee table.
He flipped the lid of the top box open. It was a pepperoni pizza, taped to the inside of the lid was a note written in Sharpie: Enjoy the night off. We’ll play for real soon. - C.
Axel stared at the pizza in anger.
"He’s not coming," I whispered, sinking back into the chair. "He never was."
"He sent us on a scavenger hunt," Axel said quietly. "He cleared the board just to show us that he owns it."
"He knows we’re here," I said. "He knows exactly where we are."
"He knew where we would be," Axel corrected. "He predicted us. That’s worse."
He holstered his gun. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a bitter, exhausted reality.
"Pack up," Axel ordered, running a hand through his hair. "We’re going back to the city."
"Tonight?"
"Right now," Axel said. "Because if he’s not hitting us here,I want to know what he’s doing in the city while we’re gone."
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