Ethan's POV
Her breath stopped the second she read the phone screen.
The encrypted message glowed coldly between us:
"They know she still has it."
Her fingers tightened around her sleeves.
Her throat bobbed once.
Her eyes..already swollen from crying..went wide and glassy.
"Ethan…" she whispered.
Barely a sound.
Barely breathing.
I didn't comfort her.
I couldn't.
Not for this.
Not now.
She looked at the message again, her pulse visibly hammering at her neck.
The panic rolled through her body like a wave she couldn't climb out of.
And just like I knew she would…
Her hand moved.
Slowly.
Shaking.
She reached into the lining of her sweater...
a hidden pocket sewn so carefully I never would have found it..
and pulled out the velvet pouch.
The real one.
Her fingers trembled as she held it out.
She didn't speak.
She didn't ask questions.
She didn't demand answers.
She was reacting purely on fear…
the same fear that had kept her alive all this time.
I didn't rush forward.
I simply extended my hand.
She placed the necklace into my palm with a softness that broke something in me.
A little gasp escaped her as she let go...like she had released her last tether to safety.
Still, I said nothing.
No explanation.
No excuse.
No reassurance.
Words wouldn't change anything anymore.
I turned away from her...
from her panic,
from her trembling,
from the way she looked at me like I was the only thing keeping her upright...
and walked out of the panic room.
The door sealed behind me with a hiss.
The sound felt final.
I didn't stop walking until I reached my office.
My Office... Quiet. Ivory Walls. Cold Light.
The room smelled faintly of printer ink and old leather.
Mike was already there.
One arm in a sling.
Face tense.
Eyes sharp.
He stood when I entered
then sat back down when he saw the velvet pouch in my hand.
"You got it," he muttered.
I didn't respond.
I placed the necklace on the center of the ivory desk.
Even under soft, indirect light, it glowed unnaturally.
Too bright.
Too clean.
Too innocent looking for what it carried.
Mike leaned in, brows furrowed.
"Looks normal," he murmured.
"It isn't," I said.
He nodded once, understanding the weight behind my voice.
He pulled out thin gloves and a jeweler's loupe.
The chain clicked against the marble surface of the table,
Every sound felt louder in the silence.
Mike inspected the clasp.
The underside.
The gem setting.
The weight.
The symmetry.
The interior seam.
He frowned.
"Whatever's inside," he said, "it's microscopic. Or hidden in the metal or daimonds. It has to be fully open like may be even if we have to break the daimonds that could also be a possiblity Or encrypted in a way we've never seen."
I didn't answer.
My eyes weren't even on Mike.
They were on the necklace.
This stupid, delicate, deadly object that had ruined so much.
And now..
Now I had touched it again.
After years.
A silent, invisible thread pulled tight across time.
College.
My ex-best friend.
The promise he forced on me.
The voice that answered with "Da."
A promise made in a winter I had never spoken about.
A promise buried until tonight.
A promise that said:
"If you ever call… you will belong to me one day."
Mike didn't know the details.
He didn't need to.
He glanced up at me, studying my face.
"You look like you saw a ghost."
I didn't look away from the necklace.
"No," I said quietly.
"A ghost saw me."
The room was silent for a moment.
Too silent.
Then Mike spoke again, softer now.
"What do we do next?"
I exhaled slowly.
Carefully.
Because the truth was bigger than either of us.
And the truth was..
I was no longer just protecting Raina.
By calling that number,
by hearing that "Da",
by invoking the promise…
I had chained myself to something darker than any mafia on this coast.
Something that would come calling.
Soon.
But not yet.
Not tonight.
I stood up slowly.
"We need to find out what's inside it," I said.
"And we do it fast."
Mike nodded.
"What about her?"
I didn't answer at first.
I didn't need to.
The fear in her eyes when she gave me the necklace…
the trust she didn't want to give…
the kiss she couldn't forget…
the truth she was afraid of knowing…
"She's safer without knowing anything," I finally said.
Mike stared at me a long moment.
Then he whispered:
"Is she though?" mike definitely sounded sceptical,
I didn't respond.
Because the real question wasn't whether she was safe.
It was whether I was still capable of keeping her safe...
now that the world behind "Da" was watching.
And waiting.