Shedrack's Apartment – 1:00 A.M.

The rain still hadn't shown any sign of stopping. Thunder boomed in the distance and lightning flashed, the brief lighting spreading over the landscape in front of his window.

Shedrack sat on the edge of the couch, his rum bottle clutched in his hand, still unopened. He stared into the dark TV screen, his own face distant and empty. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't let go of what happened.

His head still hurt from where Simeon had struck him with the chair, and the stitched-up wound from a splinter of wood hurt like hell.

Grunting, he popped off the bottle's cork before bringing the tip slowly to his lips. With one quick swerve, he tipped the bottle, closing his eyes shut as the rum poured down his throat. “Arrgh,"

Shedrack groaned as he brought down the bottle, dropping it on the table. His throat burned as the hot liquid swept into his stomach.

His grip on the bottle's neck tightened as he turned his head towards the door where a knock came from.

“It's Simeon, Shedrack" the voice from the other side called as another knock came again.

"Could you open the door?”

"It's open, dumb *ss,” Shedrack answered as he took another swerve of his bottle. Simeon mumbled something from the other side before twisting the doorknob and pushing it open.

“Your guards refused to let me in when I asked to come in," he said as he walked in before closing the door shut behind him.

“They still don't know bout me?"

"Why are you coming for a visit by this time?” Shedrack asked, acting oblivious to his previous question. He dropped the bottle and dropped his eyes to the watch on his wrist.

"It's almost two in the morning. What the hell are you doing here?”

"I cannot stand staying in that freaking hell of a building any longer," Simeon said with a soft sigh as he dropped down on the couch next to Shed rack.

“That girl, Maya, just… I can't just freaking stand her.”

Shedrack took a glance at Simeon and frowned. The guy was dripping wet, his brown hair matted to his forehead as though they were glued there.

He had a bead of water hanging on his nose and the sight made him really uncomfortable. Ignoring his look, Shedrack returned his attention back to his blank television as he grabbed his bottle again.

"How's that any of my business?” He asked, more to himself in frustration than to Simeon as he laid back against the backrest of his couch.

A long silence ensued after Shedrack's question and he couldn't be any more happier. His joy was short-lived though as Simeon suddenly spoke up again.

"She's not cracking," he mumbled. Shedrack shifted his gaze to the window where the rain had begun to go down.

"Who’s not cracking?"

"Maya," Simeon replied.

"She's not falling apart like you said she would."

Shedrack let out a rough laugh that surprised even himself. He could tell from.his blurry vision that the run effects were beginning to kick in. He was already getting drunk.

“Everyone breaks sometime,” he said with a small shrug.

“All we need is just more stress and time."

"I don't know," Simeon replied, speaking to himself.

"She's... changing. She's… kind of different now." Shedrack paused as he was about to take a small sip, his face squeezing into a light frown as Simeon's words hit him.

"What are you saying?" he asked as he turned. Simeon looked away but did not reply.

Rickey's Study – 1:45 A.M.

“Get to see if you can station more guards at the front entrance,” Rickey said to the young man standing beside him. “And tell Simeon that every recording from the CCTV cameras must be sent to me personally from now henceforth.”

The guard nodded as Rickey finished talking. The false accusation towards Maya still bothered him. If there was something he hated greatly, that would be people traitors.

He just couldn't wrap his mind around why someone would try to frame her. Maybe it was to get him mad at her, but to what end? Rickey grunted softly as he rubbed his temples.

He could feel a headache brewing up and the effects of the drink he had earlier had begun to kick in. The headache was only going to grow worse.

“What… what did I say last?” he asked, more to himself than the man as he looked up from his desk.

"Oh, you… you asked that I tell Simeon to direct all recordings from the CCTV surveillance–” "--directly to me, yes,” Rickey completed as he nodded slowly.

A small frown formed on his face as he looked around the room. Where the hell was Simeon even? The door to his study suddenly burst open and Rickey turned swiftly to the sound. He was about shouting curses when he suddenly realized it was Maya.

She rushed into the room, her face stern, her hands curled into fists at her sides. She walked towards Rickey's desk without a word and slammed the flash drive onto his desk.

Rickey's frown deepened as he stared at the flash drive before looking back up at Maya. Clenching his teeth, he looked at the young guy before nodding towards the exit. Taking the hint, he gave Rickey a quick nod before turning and walking out the room.

“Talk," Rickey said curtly as he rested his back against the backrest of his seat and clasped his hands.

“What's this?"

"You have to be careful, Rickey," Maya said with an icy voice as he placed a hand on the flash drive and slid it towards him.

"And again, tell me who you believe is your enemy."

Rickey stared at the drive for some seconds before sighing. Grabbing it, he plugged it into the laptop on his desk and opened the video on it. It took some seconds to load but after some seconds, it finally did.

The room fell into silence as he watched it. The air between them thickened by the second. When it was finished, Rickey sat back in his chair, slowly.

"Well," he growled."

They certainly went to a lot of trouble to make you look guilty." Maya said nothing.

"You weren't lying," he said, not taking his eyes off of her, the expression on his face unfamiliar, calculating.

"Guess I owe you an apology." Maya did not smile.

"Save it,” she grumbled.

"I don't want any of it. I want answers instead." Rickey searched around in his mind, then stood up and went over to a cabinet with a locked door. He opened it, pulled out a leather-covered file, and slammed it down in front of her.

"I've seen this woman in this photograph before. Years ago. She vanished in mysterious circumstances. Her case never made the headlines, but I did some searching. One name kept popping up. Over and over."

Maya's eyes widened as she flipped through the file. Then she went rigid at the final page. One name leaped out in black and white.

"Harold?" she asked as she turned to him. “Who the hell is Harold?"

"A mafia Underlord who's known for dealing in trafficking and organ selling,” Rickey said, his voice expressionless as he closed the file and shoved it back into the drawer. Maya backed away, heart racing with anticipation.

“A… trafficker?”