"YOU'RE STILL BEING NOSEY?"

I looked up to the sound of a voice from the doorway of my office. Ghost stood there arms folded, with a frown on his face.

"Adonis Romano," I said, looking for a reaction.

Apart from the tightening of his jaw, he remained impassive and simply glanced at folders I had been going through. "I'm pretty sure you got fired."

"Thanks for that," I replied sarcastically.

"Maybe you need to get better at your job."

Shame and frustration painted my cheeks red. I didn't need the reminder. "F*ck you."

Finally, he walked into my office until he stood beside me and turned the chair I was sitting in. He gently lifted my chin so I was looking up at him and leaned in towards me as if to press a kiss to my mouth. "I really don't want to threaten you but you're not listening. Stop being curious about me," he demanded in a low whisper.

"Or what?"

The metal on a gun pressed against my temple.

"I'm serious, Angel. Focus on Santan or Lucio."

"Why can't I be curious?"

"Because that person is dead."

I glared at him. "Pretty sure he's in front of me."

Ghost responded with an exasperated sigh. Suddenly, his phone started to ring, and without breaking eye contact, he pulled it out of his pocket and answered. "Hello?" I could barely hear the voice on the other end, but what was being said was not good news. "Agents are snooping around? Move the important cargo. I'll be there in the morning."

"You shouldn't be here," I reminded him once he hung up.

"Neither should you," he smirked.

"I hope you're ready to go back to prison."

Mockingly, Ghost put his hand on his heart. "It's so sweet that you believe that. I don't have long so here." He glanced at the clock behind me before pressing a piece of paper in my hand. "This man has what you need to put my brother and his dad in prison for a long time. Also, your office is bugged."

My eyes widened at the last part. "You say that now?"

Winking, he walks out of the door. "You better start investigating," he calls back.

***

After finding five microphones, I stormed into the director's office with them in hand and slammed them on his desk. "I don't even want an explanation, and I'm sure you heard my conversation with Ghost. So here's my offer. Give me 48 hours, and I will have Ghost arrested."

He crossed his arms calmly. "You had weeks, and you couldn't do it."

Fair point.

"You don't plan on completely stopping Sinners, right?" An eyebrow raised at my statement, letting me know I had guessed correctly. "You just don't want the illegal market to be mainly controlled by international organizations, and that's Ghost's plan."

"I have people arresting his members as we speak."

"That doesn't mean you'll find him guilty of anything."

"And what crime will you find find?"

"Murder."

There was a heavy pause as he stared at me in disbelief. "You would need indisputable proof. We know he's killed people, but Sinners' lawyers are hard to fight against."

Maybe it was the fact I had nothing to lose, or I had gone crazy as the following words out of my mouth put the final nail in my coffin. "All I need is a warrant, a body cam and a plane ticket."

"You will be fired immediately if you fail," the director warned.

"I'll quit regardless."

"48 hours."

I grinned. "72."

All I received in response was a nod which was the go ahead I needed and an hour later, I was standing outside the address Ghost had given to me. Bags of spilled trash littered the ground and there was an eerie silence surrounding the apartment complex as if it was holding its breath for something to happen. I pulled my baseball cap lower on my face and entered the building taking notes of the exits and headed to the first floor. Unfortunately, the elevator was out of service forcing me to take the stairs where the lights were flickering like a beginning of a predictable horror movie.

"All that's missing is the creepy music," I muttered, as I finally reached the floor. The hallway stretched on either sides, lined with doors which made me tense. With the number of flats in the complex, I should've seen someone but there was not even a sound meaning it was abandoned or something was waiting for me.

Flat 116. I stared at the rusting number on the door and exhaled, stretching my arms. Now or never. I kicked the door which flew open, revealing a man huddled in the corner, shaking. I raised an eyebrow, confused. This was not what I expected.

"Maxwell Wallace?"

His eyes finally turned to my direction. "Who are you?" His voice was barely above a whisper as if to prevent anyone eavesdropping.

Ignoring his question, I stepped into the room closing the door behind me. Newspapers were stacked to the ceiling with electronics scattered around the room. It seemed like he was either a hoarder or someone with an unhealthy hobby. I turned back to him and noticed the flash drive in his hands. "What is that?"

"They said he'd come and kill me. Who are you?" Maxwell repeated.

"Who's coming to kill you?"

His eyes widened in panic. "You don't know? He's coming. He emptied the building to kill me."

Fuck. This now became a rescue mission with a killer on the loose. "I won't let that happen. What's on the drive?"

"I was the accountant." Tears streamed down his face as he spoke, hysteria leaking in. "I just wanted a job. He ruined it. He ruined me. Now, they want no traces to them."

I clicked my fingers in his face. "If you want to live, I need names."

He paused and an unsettling calmness veiled over his face. He smiled, a haunting expression. "Live? We're both dying here."

I narrowed my eyes. "Speak for yourself. Now, what's on the drive?"

"Nothing, it's empty."

He's insane. "You're holding an empty drive?"

"Yes."

"Okay... Next question, do you have something Ghost would want?"

Maxwell froze and suddenly started sobbing. "He's coming to kill me. They told me not to give it to him."

"Where is it?"

Finally, he stood and frantically began grabbing newspapers around him. "I've got to go. He's coming to-" he started before my fist collided with his jaw. My patience was low.

"What is going on, Maxwell? Don't make me ask again."

"They made me in charge of De Vil's weapons and he betrayed them. They want everything. Even the blackmail he had on them but it's inside me."

"Inside?"

He shakily lifted his shirt revealing a long scar going down his abdomen. "Ghost works for them. I've been hiding for a year. He's found me and he's going to get it out."

Ghost wasn't coming. He sent me but the fear that rolled off Maxwell was genuine so I didn't doubt that someone would cut him open to retrieve what was stashed inside his body. Then who was?

In that moment, the sound of the elevator moving made us both turn our heads towards the door. Maxwell began shaking, silently crying. His tears dropped onto the carpet in time with the thud of boots that came closer and closer towards the flat. There were no exits, nowhere to run and no weapons to use. And just like the building, we held our breath.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.