𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡✦𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐋𝐮 𝐒𝐢 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠

Chapter 22: Where is She?

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We do terrible things
for the people we love;
What are we?

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I didn't expect to spend the night at Nexus. Hell, I didn't plan on being here at all. But here I was, stretched out on the old leather couch, half awake and staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the city outside the windows. The only other sound was Rachel typing away, relentless as ever. She hadn't stopped since the moment we got here, and it was like she didn't even notice the time slipping away. —typical Rachel.
The soft glow of the lamp next to her desk flickered, casting shadows across the room. It made the space feel smaller, more intimate, though Rachel's presence had a way of making it feel bigger somehow—like everything was more important when she was around. I turned my head just enough to watch her, the way she worked with that single-minded focus, ignoring the world. Ignoring me.
She didn't even look up when I shifted on the couch. Her hair fell in messy strands around her face, her fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard like she was chasing down some invisible enemy in her mind. She was like this with everything—headstrong, determined, and utterly obsessed with the task in front of her. It was infuriating.
And captivating.
I rubbed my face with a sigh. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the weight of Yen's case, the pressure building around me, was exhausting. I closed my eyes again, the leather couch beneath me cold and stiff, but better than nothing. My thoughts wandered back to someone. In this underworld of crime, he was known as 'Cipher.' A true master of manipulation, his motives twisted and turned like a labyrinth, always just out of reach of comprehension.
Cipher had been reported as dead, almost —or at least that's what everyone thought. But something didn't sit right. A few days ago, I received a message, encrypted and barely traceable, yet unmistakably his work. He wasn't dead, or at least, not completely out of the game. Whether he was on my side or playing his hand, I couldn't tell yet.
It gnawed at me. Cipher was a wildcard. Brilliant but unpredictable. His recovery, if you could even call it that, was kept quiet. Not even his family knew. He'd made sure of it. But he was there, lurking in the shadows, playing whatever game he'd decided to join this time.
Rachel muttered something under her breath, pulling me back to the present. She was leaning over a stack of files, her brows knitted together in frustration. Even in the dim light, I could see the exhaustion etched into her features, but she wasn't about to let that stop her. I smirked to myself. Stubborn.
I sat up slowly, careful not to make any noise that would break the silence. The last thing I wanted was her attention on me right now. She was too good at reading people, too good at cutting through whatever mask I tried to put up. But damn, if I wasn't already caught up in her mess.
I leaned back onto the couch, watching her. Something about this—us, here in the quiet, the world shut out felt... different. Comfortable, in a way. Which was dangerous. I wasn't supposed to feel comfortable around her.
"Rachel," I said quietly, testing the waters.
She didn't answer, her focus still locked on whatever trail of breadcrumbs she was following in those files. I wasn't even sure she'd heard me. The dim light made her look softer, almost peaceful, though I knew better. She was probably wrestling with a dozen problems in her head, most of them more dangerous than she cared to admit.
I shifted again, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. Yen's case had been sitting on my chest like a weight for days. Something off about it—that I couldn't put my finger on. And Cipher's sudden reappearance only added another layer of complexity. I needed to figure out what side he was on.
But right now, sitting here in the dim quiet, all I could focus on was her. Rachel, hunched over her work, ignoring everything else in the world like she always did. Her shoulders tensed slightly, probably sensing me watching, but she didn't say anything. There was something in the air between us, something unspoken and heavy. I hated it. And I wanted more of it at the same time. I wasn't even sure when sleep finally pulled me under again, but as I drifted off, the last thing I saw was Rachel, still working, still fighting. Unstoppable.
Lidded.
The next time I opened my eyes, the faint light of morning was creeping through the windows. I shifted, my back aching from the uncomfortable position I'd been in for hours. Waking up in these old familiar places was nothing new to me, but this ime, it felt different. There was a moment; a quiet stretch where sleep still held me, where the lines between reality and the remnants of my dreams blurred. And then, the scent hit me. Faint but unmistakable—something floral, mixed with ink and... coffee. Rachel.
I blinked my eyes open slowly, the soft light of the early morning casting long shadows across the room. The first thing I saw was her. Not up close, but just close enough to catch the sharp edge of her focus. She sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a sea of papers, eyes glued to the mess she'd been buried in all night. There was a crease between her brows, one that hadn't softened since I met her.
She hadn't noticed I was awake. And I didn't move, didn't make a sound. Watching her was like looking at a storm from the inside—fascinating, dangerous, something you didn't walk away from unchanged.