Days had passed since Patrick Dela Cruz's rescue, but the unease gnawed at Amelia's gut. The corruption ring they had exposed was only the tip of the iceberg. Patrick had been silenced, but whoever was behind the operation was still out there—watching.
Eloise sat at her desk, tapping her pen against her notebook, her thoughts spiraling as she tried to connect the dots. Her mind replayed the cryptic words of the man they had arrested:
"The truth dies with me."
But it hadn't died. Not yet.
"Rubio."
Her head snapped up, her eyes meeting Rios' sharp gaze. He stood in the doorway, coffee in one hand, a file in the other. His sleeves were pushed up, and his tie was loosened, giving him that effortlessly rugged look that Eloise was starting to find… distracting.
"You surely love daydreaming." he said, smirking.
"Thinking ahead," she replied smoothly, her expression neutral.
"Dangerous habit," Rios said, stepping inside and placing the file on her desk.
Eloise arched an eyebrow. "And what's this?"
"New case." His tone was clipped, his usual playfulness replaced with something more serious.
Eloise curiosity piqued. She opened the file, her eyes scanning the details.
Victim: Jaime Mercado. Age: 52. Cause of death: Blunt force trauma.
"Local businessman," Rios murmured, leaning against her desk. "Body was found in his house this morning."
Eloise brow furrowed. "Motive?"
"Nothing concrete," Rios replied, his jaw tightening. "But…"
Eloise looked up, noticing the shift in his demeanor. "What is it, Rios?"
He hesitated, then tapped a finger on the file.
"Look at the last transaction on his account last week."
Eloise flipped to the financial records and her stomach dropped.
A payment to Shadowline92.
Her eyes shot to Rios. "The same alias that lured Kristine."
"Yeah," Rios murmured, his expression grim.
"Whoever's behind this… they're still active," Eloise whispered, her mind racing.
Rios' jaw clenched. "And they're getting bolder."
"But... Kristine's abductor and the user of that account is already in custody. How the hell is it still operating?" Eloise looked so confused.
"It's common in underground operations. Accounts are passed on— used in different illegal transaction, to make sure that the police can't track who's using it." Helios scratched his head.
"One thing we know... that account is already completely useless."
☆☆☆
Rubio and Rios arrived at the crime scene, a small house on the outskirts of Pasig. The place reeked of damp concrete and rusted scent of blood. Yellow tape cordoned off the area, and officers milled about, collecting evidence.
"The neighbour reported the body," one of the officers briefed them. "No signs of forced entry, and according to the neighbour, they heard a noise inside. When they knocked and no one answered, so they entered, and saw the body."
Eloise eyes scanned the surroundings, her mind processing every detail. The place was ransacked, as if someone is trying to find something. The body had been found near the kitchen, slumped against the wall—just like Ramon Diaz.
"Position of the body," she murmured softly.
"Staged," Rios finished, his tone low.
Eloise nodded, her eyes narrowing. "This isn't a robbery gone wrong. It's a message."
Rios crouched beside the bloodstain on the ground, his brow furrowing. "Same M.O.," he murmured. "But why target Mercado?"
Eloise stood beside him, her eyes darting between the scene and the surrounding area. Something felt… off.
"The body was found here," she said softly, her gaze distant. "But he wasn't killed here."
Rios' head snapped up. "You're sure?"
"Look at the blood spatter," Eloise pointed out. "Minimal. If he'd been killed here, the pattern would be more chaotic. This was staged post-mortem."
Rios stood, his jaw tightening. "So where was he killed?"
"Somewhere nearby," Eloise murmured. "Somewhere secluded."
Rios' eyes scanned the house, then landed on a door partially concealed between bookselves.
"Back there," he murmured.
A wooden trap door welcomed them into a hidden room.
They approached cautiously, weapons drawn. The door creaked as Rios pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room. The air was stale, and the faint scent of bleach lingered.
"Jesus," Rios murmured as they stepped inside.
The room was bare except for a metal chair and bloodstains splattered across the floor.
"Torture room," Eloise whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
Rios' jaw clenched, his eyes darkening. "This wasn't random."
"No," Eloise murmured, her gaze sweeping the room. "Someone wanted him to suffer."
Her eyes landed on a symbol carved into the wall—a circle with a line through it.
"Hel," she called softly, pointing toward it.
His eyes narrowed. "I've seen this before."
☆☆☆
Back at the precinct, Eloise and Helios pored over old case files.
"Here," Rios murmured, pulling out a file.
A cold case from three years ago.
"Same symbol," Eloise murmured, her eyes scanning the details. "Victim was a whistleblower. Exposed corruption within a law firm."
Rios' jaw clenched. "They silenced him."
"And now they're doing it again," Eloise whispered.
Rios' expression hardened. "We're dealing with something bigger, El."
"Bigger and more dangerous," Eloise agreed, her eyes darkening.
☆☆☆
As they pieced together the clues, a name surfaced—Victor Soriano.
"Former CEO of a defunct shipping company," Eloise read aloud. "Connected to multiple shell companies."
"And linked to several of the victims," Rios added, his voice grim.
"He's the common denominator," Eloise murmured.
"Let's pay him a visit," Rios said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
☆☆☆
Victor Soriano's mansion was a fortress. Security cameras monitored every inch of the perimeter, and a wrought-iron gate stood between them and the truth.
"This guy doesn't play around," Rios muttered as they approached the intercom.
Eloise's jaw tightened. "Neither do we."
They were buzzed in after a brief pause, and a butler led them to Soriano's study.
The man who greeted them was in his late 50s, impeccably dressed, and oozing arrogance.
"Detectives," Soriano drawled, his smile polished but empty. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"We're looking into a series of murders," Rios said, his tone hard. "All linked back to you."
Soriano's smile didn't falter. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Eloise's eyes didn't miss the flicker of unease in his expression.
"But you do," she said softly, her gaze piercing. "And we're not leaving until we get answers."
Soriano's jaw clenched, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of fear.
"You have no idea what you're getting yourselves into," he murmured, his tone dropping.
"Try us," Rios growled.
Soriano leaned forward, his smile gone.
"You're digging into something that goes beyond what you can handle," he said softly, his eyes cold. "Walk away. Before it's too late."
Eloise's heart pounded, but her expression remained unreadable.
"Not gonna happen," Rios replied, his voice like steel.
Soriano's eyes locked onto Eloise's. "You don't know what's coming, detectives."
But Eloise did.
And for the first time, she felt the weight of what they were truly up against.
Because this was only the beginning.