after they met her

fiftythree

m a t t h e w

I stood in the dimly lit basement, staring through the one-way glass into the interrogation room.

Gray and Caelum were in there, working on the waitress who had served Ivana the orange juice.

Watching the two of them side by side felt strange. Caelum was calculated, cold, and methodical—Gray, on the other hand, was more prone to bursts of aggression. Still, despite their differences, they worked together like a well-oiled machine, especially when it came to getting answers.

It had been three days since we captured the woman at the airport. Asher's contacts pulled through, identifying her just in time. Caelum and Ethan both swore she wasn't part of the regular staff at the restaurant. That raised more questions than it answered—who the hell brought her in?

She had been recommended by another employee, one who conveniently passed away months ago.

Someone had placed her there deliberately, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath.

She sat slumped in a metal chair, wrists and ankles chained to the steel. Her face was pale, skin tight against her bones, exhaustion etched into every line.

We hadn't given her much in the way of food or water. Standard procedure. Break them down. Starve them. Exhaust them. Eventually, they'll talk.

Except she hadn't. Not yet.

Gray leaned in, his voice low and menacing, though I couldn't hear it from this side of the glass. Caelum stood behind him, arms crossed, watching like a predator sizing up its prey.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to pick up on something, anything that might give me an edge. I hadn't slept properly in days, and the exhaustion was starting to catch up with me. Rubbing my temples, I focused on the scene unfolding in front of me.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" the waitress croaked out, her voice barely audible. "I didn't poison anyone!"

Gray slammed his hand on the table, making her jump. "Bullshit! You think we're playing games here? We've been doing this for three days, and you're still feeding us the same crap."

Caelum, the calmer of the two, leaned forward, speaking in a tone so soft it sent a chill down my spine. "Here's the thing. We already know you did it. What we want to know is who sent you. That's the only reason you're still alive."

The woman's lip trembled, but she held her ground, shaking her head weakly. "I didn't... I swear to God, I didn't—"

"Don't fucking swear to God in here," Gray snarled, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "God ain't gonna save you now."

I clenched my fists, the frustration growing inside me. She was lying. She had to be. No way she got that job, served Ivana that drink, and just happened to be there when everything went down. No one in our business believed in coincidences.

Caelum shifted slightly, his eyes locking on her with a deadly focus. "You're at the end of the line. No food. No water. You'll die in this chair if you don't talk."

She let out a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I didn't know..."

I straightened, my pulse quickening. There it was—the crack.

Gray shot Caelum a look, and for once, they were perfectly in sync. Caelum took a step closer to the table, his tone even more chilling. "Didn't know what?"

Tears welled up in the woman's eyes. Her head hung low, and for a moment, I thought she might pass out. But then she spoke, her words slow, barely audible. "I didn't know what they were gonna do..."