June and I sat out for lunch. She had not been happy with what had happened the other day at Marvin's office and wanted to free her thoughts from what she thought was a lack of respect for Marvin.

“I am sorry you feel that way, June, but what I know is that Marvin was protecting everyone there and that includes you,” I said.

“Why did he have to call me back into the room the second time just to humiliate me? I was truly vexed and you are the only one I could relate with. That was why I called you to discuss it with you. Marvin should not have treated me the way he did. I am supposed to be his wife”, June said.

It is okay, hope you feel better,” I asked.

‘I don’t, I should not have signed that contract because right now I am feeling extremely useless and cheap,” June said.

“I understand how you feel but I would advise you not to feel that way because I should be feeling that way, my friend, but I am not,” I said.

“I am married to him, Cass,’ she said.

“I am in love with him, June,” I said.

“What! How have you managed this?” She asked.

“None of us can have him, June, it is that complicated,” I said.

“I am so sorry I did not see that coming,” June said.

We need to keep him alive. He is a good man but his enemies want him dead because they want all he has. I was not ready to see another good man die because he had no allies. I told June that Marvin now has a lot of allies, which include brilliant people like her and me.

“If you want anything please let me know I will do my best to be there for you and be sincere,” I said.

I said this because I was tired of the lies and the web of deception that had gone all around me in the past six months. Someone I can truly give an honest report of what is going on without trying to hide something.

“Thank you so much Cass,” She said.

“And for starters, my name is Cassie, please call me Cassie any time,” I said.

We hugged and said goodbyes.

I went to the hotel to check on Larry who was resting due to the cut he sustained during the attack on the Martinez Gang. He was sleeping but by the time I got in he woke up and tried to smile, but you could see he was in pain.

"How are you holding up?" I asked, concern etching my voice.

Larry rubbed his temples, exhaustion was evident in every line of his face. "I'm fine, Cassie. But I do think we can't afford to rest. The Contractor will strike again, and we need to be ready."

I took a seat across from him, the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders. "I agree. We can't wait for the contractor to make the next move. We have to draw him out of hiding, but I'm not sure how we could do that or do you have any suggestions? I would gladly listen." I said.

Larry tried smiling again, “ Do we even know his location? We do have his contact but we need his location,” Larry said.

“Sometimes the best way to get these kinds of people is to patiently wait for them to make mistakes and use that mistake against them,” I said.

Larry leaned back, his gaze fixed on a point beyond the walls of the safehouse. "We need to be one step ahead. Anticipate his moves before he makes them. It's the only way to catch them off guard," he said.

As the discussion shifted to the intricacies of our plan, Larry and I delved into the specifics of how to outsmart an adversary who operated from the shadows. No one had ever seen him. No one claims they know him. He was like a ghost who could hurt you if he didn’t like you.

In the midst of strategic discussions, the topic turned to the Martinez gang. Larry, leaning forward with a sense of determination, spoke up.

"We need the Martinez gang to be more professional. No more reckless moves that put everyone in danger. They need to learn how to defend themselves. We will not be there to save them always," said Larry.

I nodded in agreement.

"We can't afford any more loose ends. We need them to operate with precision and discretion. We also need to recruit new hires to help us get new contracts," I said.

The conversation took a turn as I asked Larry about the training he had promised. "When do we start, Larry? We need to be prepared for whatever comes our way. Please, I know you cannot start now until you get completely healed."

Larry, a glint of excitement in his eyes, responded, "We'll start soon. I'll make sure you're ready for anything. The Contractor won't know what hit them."

A call interrupted our deliberations, and I answered to hear Shantel's voice on the other end. "Cassie, my dad, and I have decided. We want to leave. It's too dangerous, and we don't want to put anyone else at risk," Shantel said.

Understanding the gravity of their decision, I agreed to meet them at their hotel. As I drove through the city, the night seemed to stretch on forever, each passing moment laden with the weight of uncertainty.

Shantel and Mr. Ross, as I met them in their hotel room, expressed their gratitude for the protection they had received. Shantel, her gaze unwavering, spoke with a sense of resolve.

"Cassie, whenever you need us, we'll be there. This investigation into Uncle Jonah isn't over, and we want to see it through," Shantel said.

I nodded, acknowledging the unspoken alliance we had formed in the face of shared adversity. As I left the hotel room, the door closing behind me, the city's lights flickered in the distance, mirroring the uncertainty that shrouded our collective destinies.

Shantel and Mr. Ross were ready to leave. I placed a call to Marvin. "Is your jet ready? Shantel and her dad need a safe way out." I said.

Marvin assured me that arrangements had been made. The jet would be ready to depart as soon as Shantel and her father were prepared.

As I relayed the information to them, Shantel and Mr. Ross gathered their belongings. They were ready to leave and I was happy for them and what they had archived in the United Kingdom. I thanked them for coming.

Marvin's voice crackled through the phone, he called to confirm their departure. A sense of relief washed over me, knowing that, at least for now, they were out of immediate danger.

However, that relief was short-lived.

The news hit me like a punch to the gut—Marvin's jet had exploded. Panic seized my chest as I tried to comprehend the magnitude of the tragedy. The details were sketchy, and the uncertainty of whether Shantel and her father had survived hung in the air like a shroud.

I called Marvin back, desperation in my voice. "What happened? Are they okay?" I said.

Marvin, his voice strained, could only offer assurances that emergency services were on the scene. The fate of Shantel and Mr. Ross remained unknown.

As I stood in the darkness of the night, the weight of the unknown pressing upon me, the echoes of the explosion reverberated through the corridors of my mind. I could not believe that this just happened to us. Who is responsible for this?