"Right?" He asked with a half-smile.

He pressed my thighs with his large hands while I enjoyed touching his chest with evident pleasure. I laughed and shook my head. "Never."

"Factionless ?" He raised an eyebrow, his face showing disgust.

"You're wasting your time, Eric. You won't know where I am," I laughed.

"I've searched all over damn Chicago. How is it that you suddenly appear and disappear without leaving a trace?" he whispered.

I bit my lip while making constant movements with my hips, his member inside me.

Three days had passed, I had returned, as expected, with the lame excuse of visiting Uriah. However, I found myself in the berry fields, in the lounge where Eric was, and, as expected, we indulged our carnal desires as if it were the last time.

"I have my tricks," I murmured. "But tell me, how is Horus?"

"Too fat, I tend to feed him too much," he replied.

Today, as soon as I saw him again, we talked whenever we could. We seized every second to be together; lying in the same bed wasn't enough. We needed to talk, to hear each other's voices, to catch up.

"Don't feed him so much, it'll harm him," I frowned.

He gave me a smile without showing his teeth. A lovely look, with a peculiar shine in his eyes, he seemed happy, and I was too.

We didn't care about discussing the harsh reality at that moment, the fact that he was still on Jeanine's side and I was a fugitive. We didn't care that our factions were enemies because, within this bed, under these sheets, we were not.

"Erudite?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his question filled with mockery.

I let out a laugh and shook my head. "Impossible," I murmured.

"I thought you'd be in Amity, it was the first place I looked."

I laughed and lied, shaking my head. Four should have anticipated it; if he wanted to take me with them, Amity would be the first place they would search. But Joana saved us from that, so while they searched among the rocks, we enjoyed a faction that had already been discarded.

"Well, no, I woke up somewhere else," I whispered. "But I got my revenge. I enjoyed every second of my life spent beating up Tris and Four."

He laughed, stopping my hip movements with his hands. Even though we wanted to continue, we had that need to talk. I lifted my hips, ending the connection, and tried to lean against his chest. However, he didn't allow it, not without first taking my chin to kiss my lips.

"So, you beat them up?" he asked mockingly.

"Yes, I think I broke a few bones."

He began to stroke my hair gently and lightly, shaping my natural curls with his fingers.

"I saw the footage," he whispered.

I immediately lifted my head, confused by his comment and somewhat frightened. "What footage?"

"There was a camera right in front of you. When the uptight guy and the others were fleeing, you ran into them," he said, making a face as he looked away at my hair while continuing to curl it with his fingers. "Hill was lowering the weapon," he nodded.

Hearing her name felt like a weight on my shoulders. I felt the burden of her life in my hands, and sadness overwhelmed me.

"She wasn't an angel, she killed many people, and probably most of them were innocent. But she didn't deserve to die like that." I said, looking down.

"No, she shouldn't have," he said as I rested my cheek on his chest again. "Just like they shouldn't have taken you after beating you."

"I think it was for the best," I whispered, still lying down. "A lot happened that neither of us could have forgiven. I suppose they gave us a second chance."

"For what?"

"At least for me. I'm going to achieve my freedom and do what's right." I lifted my torso, propping myself up with my elbow.

"And who decides what's right, Grace?" he murmured, frowning.

"I'm a fugitive because they don't accept my nature. In your government, I'm a plague destined to die, and not just me—every Divergent is denied the chance to show that we can be better, and what Jeanine is doing isn't right."

"The founders believe otherwise," he murmured. "They think it's the answer to our problems."

"And your problem is Divergents?" I raised an eyebrow, getting off him.

"That's what I was taught."

"So, if the answer is that I'm a threat and you need to exterminate us, will you do it?" I asked incredulously.

"No, not you," he said, shaking his head.

"Then why the others? Do you really think I'll sit by while you kill all the Divergents?" I laughed bitterly as I stood up. "This is what led us here. With you, I had everything—no one questioned me, and I loved that power. But I won't tolerate innocent people being killed. It's not worth having power if my hands are covered in blood."

"Look at where you are, Grace. Was it worth it? I had you at the highest rank of Dauntless, and now you have to watch your back all the time to avoid being followed. And for what?"

"Yes, I was at the top, but that doesn't mean I wasn't alert. Even before, Max wanted me dead, and more than once he nearly succeeded," I said, angrily putting on my clothes. "And yes, it was totally worth it because even before I left, I saw the children I saved with smiles on their faces. A mother had just given birth, all because I went against your limits."

I stood up from the bed in my underwear, about to grab my clothes, but Eric stood in front of me.

"It hurt me to lie to you. It was heartbreaking to betray you like this," I continued. "And you would never have realized if it hadn't been for that useless Tris and Uriah, whom I couldn't hide. I almost died from depression because of what happened, but saving those people gave me the strength to offer them something better. Even if it means going over you."

"And all of it goes to hell just for a couple of kids?" he scoffed.

"This is the second chance. It had to be this way so you could choose. It's not just me; it's all the Divergents and Abnegation."

"Jeanine won't accept any deal; she'll kill you before you even get close to negotiating."

"I'll have to kill her before she does it. With you or without you," I said, pulling on my pants.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed him starting to dress as well, both of us with furrowed brows, frustrated and angry with each other. I finished putting on my pants and boots, exhaling with anger as I looked up at him. What does he intend with this? Does he think everything will return to normal? It's clear he doesn't have a plan; he's uncertain about being on my side because he has nothing guaranteed.

"You say you won't kill me; it's clear you plan to protect me. But the others you serve won't see it that way; they'll kill me. You can't choose both sides; it's time for you to pick a side," I exclaimed.

"I know that. Don't make me decide overnight. I want you, but..."

Several knocks on the door echoed through the room, and both of us opened our eyes wide in alarm. Eric walked toward the door, grabbed my shoulder, and pushed me behind him, placing himself between Max and me. I noticed how his lips tightened as he glanced around the room, assessing the situation.

"Eric! I know you're in there. I heard you," Max's unmistakable voice shouted. "Stop screwing the whore you traded for Alex and open up; this is more important," he continued knocking.

Eric immediately turned to look at me. I raised an eyebrow. "Alex?" I whispered.

The blonde opened his mouth, trying to speak, but all that came out were incoherent sounds. "Under the table, go!" he pushed me, and I noticed his lower lip trembling.

"Coulter, who the hell is Alex?" I murmured.

He grabbed me by the shoulders. "She's nobody, just hide."

If it weren't for Max impatiently rattling the doorknob, which was locked, I might have pressed him further. I quickly walked to the kitchen island and squeezed into the small space where the chairs were usually placed, hoping to stay out of sight.

Eric opened the door.

"Where is she? Is she prettier than the redhead?" Max taunted. "What? You're not going to let me in?"

"No, talk," Eric growled, probably blocking the doorway.

"I see, you're very possessive with the ones you really like," Max muttered with amusement.

*Redhead.* Her name is Alex, and I couldn't contain the venom and growing sense of betrayal and hatred in my chest. Edgar had warned me—Eric had returned as nothing more than a vile womanizer, disrespecting not only our relationship but also desecrating the room that once belonged to me.

And now that I think about it, all of that was the real reason I continued the purely physical relationship with Four, or why I kissed Edgar, and even Uriah. I was seeking revenge, but what good is it if he has no idea what I'm doing?

"One of Monica's daughters wants to see you. She's hysterical and talking about you like you're nothing," Max informed him. "She's still in Dauntless, but it won't take long for her to realize her mother is in the Baya."

"Enough time to make her talk. Has she said anything yet?" Eric asked.

"Not much. I'd recommend not dislocating her jaw next time; it's hard for her to articulate," Max sighed. "All I could make out was something about Amity, and then I think I caught Jeanine's name—or maybe it was Joana's. I'm not really sure."

"Amity?" Eric asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it surprised me too. But at least it's not Grace, so we can rule out an attack. She hasn't mentioned her. Although, if you hadn't dislocated her jaw, it'd be easier."

"You wanted a good incentive, right? Now you've got one."

"Yeah, next time, just cut off a finger," Max growled. "But it was too easy. She talked fast—either she's not very loyal, or you're just that good at your job."

"I'm incredible at my job, but she resisted. I wouldn't have gone that far if it wasn't necessary. She got on my nerves. I had to request truth serum before you came in. That's why it was so easy for you."

"Excellent," Max said with pride. "But I'll need more information. Jeanine already knows about her and wants to come personally to interrogate her."

"She'll kill her before she even gets the chance to talk," Eric warned. "We need to reset her jaw and wait for it to heal."

"I don't have time to wait," Max declared, his voice firm. "Find another way. I don't want Jeanine meddling in my affairs or thinking she has the right to interfere in my faction."

"You gave her the authorization to do so," Eric reminded him.

"Don't even remind me," Max huffed in frustration. "I don't want another intervention from Erudite, so let that girl return to her damned post and fix what you did."

He was probably talking about me, but not as Grace—rather as the "whore" who replaced Alex.

The door closed, and Eric let out a heavy sigh. I emerged from my hiding spot, standing up with a face full of seriousness. I felt pathetic. I was Grace, the girl who tamed the feared Eric. But now, I'm nothing, and the Dauntless know it. Max knows it. Now it's Alex—whoever she is—probably the woman he was with the longest.

I walked over to the bed, picked up my blouse, the last piece of clothing I needed to put on, and silently slipped it over my head, feeling Eric's eyes on me the entire time.

Joana had an informant, Four told me that. Could this Monica be the girl? I can't afford to act rashly—I need to think with a clear mind and figure out if this woman is Joana's informant. But I also don't have the luxury of time. After this conversation, Eric will go after her, and he'll extract the information in his way. The girl is suffering; she can barely speak, and her death is the only certain outcome for her.

"Monica, huh? How could Amity have an informant?" I muttered, giving a quick glance at Eric, who was standing there with slumped shoulders, his face practically screaming, 'I messed up'

"That's what she said, before she collapsed," he replied. "What are you doing, Grace?" he whispered.

I loaded my only weapon, a gun with a 9-bullet magazine and a 12-round spare. I also secured my knives and a combat blade.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm leaving," I said, exhaling in frustration. "You're so happy being a leader, and soon you'll be the leader of all Dauntless. It hasn't taken you any effort to forget about me. I don't know who she is, and I don't care to know. Your priorities are crystal clear."

"Alex was nobody, Grace. She's nothing. I left her as soon as I got back to Dauntless last time."

"That's not the point, damn it, Eric. Listen to yourself: you have a plan A, a plan B, and a plan C. And that's fine—until you start using them on me. After the attack, there was no 'you and me,' and your plan B became the girls in Dauntless. But when plan A came back, you discarded B. And that's not even the worst part. Your obsession with being the damn king of the city destroys any chance of there being an 'us,' so plan C comes into play. Explain this to me—am I involved in this plan C?" I was too angry to let him speak, so I continued, not without letting out a bitter laugh first. "No, of course not. Because your plan A, which is me, isn't accepted by the genocidal maniacs you call your colleagues."

"Do you think it's easy for me?" he asked in desperation, his voice heavy with a weight I had never heard in him before. "I want it all, that's what I was taught, and I embraced it. I was raised to hate the Divergents, trained to kill them, and to take pleasure in doing it. And now that I've met you, I fell in love with you, and damn it, I still love you. I want you, I need you, but if I abandon everything I was taught, then I'm nothing."

"I understand you. But I ask you to look at me,  I come from Amity, I'm Divergent, and I hate injustice. I abhor the suffering of the innocent, and yet, I enabled the massacre of the Abnegation—for you, because I love you. I set aside my beliefs, even though I still see my hands covered in blood, but I didn't care because I was doing it for you." My eyes began to sting, my vision blurred despite my efforts to hold back the tears. "I'm going to do what I believe is right, and I've been delaying it for you, hoping you'd change your mind and come to my side, because I won't go to yours again. It's time for me to think about myself." Before the tears could fall, I wiped them away. "I'll let you think about it."

He remained silent, not uttering a single word, which was all the encouragement I needed to try to slip past him and out the door. The hiding spot Eric had shown me was quick, safe, and something I never would have imagined, but to get to the laundry room, I would have to pass through several far-off rooms.

However, Eric grabbed my arm, preventing me from moving forward. Despite my constant struggles, he was stronger and held me firmly.

"Dawn has broken, Grace. Wait," he murmured. "You can't go out there without being seen; the guards have already changed shifts."

I had to rest my hands on his bare chest—he was only wearing his pants. His arms wrapped around me, and it was clear he didn't want to let go. Deep down, I didn't want him to either. I looked up and saw how he was looking at me.

"It's not easy. Give me time," Eric whispered.

I nodded, understanding what he meant, and it wasn't just about the plan to get me out of here.

"Fine," I agreed, swallowing hard and averting my gaze. "Will I see you again in three days?"

"I don't know, I'm still angry," I admitted.

He let out a quiet, nasal laugh. "I'll get you out of here. I just want one last kiss."

"No."

"You leave me no choice."

And without warning, he lowered his face to mine, stealing a kiss. With a certain urgency, he moved his lips against mine, refusing to let me go until I responded. And because I'm weak, I gave in.

            ****************************

I still couldn't understand how he was doing it. Only Eric could manage to stop all of Dauntless and make them ignore things at his convenience.

I was still in the room, alone, waiting for his signal, which would be a brief two-minute blackout. According to him, that was enough time to escape. It was easy for him—he was incredibly smart and had exceptional skills that could lead to great achievements if only he used them for good.

And then it happened. The lights went out, and with them, the red emergency light flickered on, signaling a blackout. However, the alarms didn't go off, so I simply stepped out into a dark, solitary, and eerie hallway.

I jogged toward the laundry room, standing in front of the door. My hand gripped the doorknob, but my body and conscience refused to let me enter. I pressed my lips together tightly, feeling the turmoil raging in my head, and the flickering red lights didn't help. I turned toward the end of the hallway and saw the dark silhouette of a man.

Thanks to the dim lights, I could tell it was Eric, watching me, waiting for me to make my escape.

I have to go, but I can't.

How can I leave when Joana's informant is in the same place as I am? I can't just walk away and pretend this isn't happening. Even if she can't speak or mention my name, she's probably tied up in a small, dark room, surrounded by dried blood, in a gloomy, filthy environment. That girl is suffering, her jaw likely hanging loose, unable to close her mouth, crying, begging for death, while her daughter is on the brink of collapse, worried sick about her mother.

If it were Freya being tortured, I wouldn't wait for Eric to explain what was happening. I'd already be killing everyone to get my mother back.

And it only took comparing that woman to Freya to realize that I couldn't leave her to her fate.

Forgive me, Eric, I thought, grimacing.

Without giving him a chance to anticipate my move, I sprinted in the opposite direction from where he was. I could almost swear I heard him sigh, as if he had expected this from me, and I could hear his footsteps following close behind.

I'd only toured the Bay once, guided by Mike, who explained the layout. But during the journey, there was no mention of a cell, which made it clear that the holding area must be underground, just like in Dauntless.

The darkness helped me remain unnoticed as I ran, passing a couple of girls heading in the opposite direction, with Eric just a few meters behind me. But then, the lights flicked back on, flooding my eyes with brightness. I pushed myself to run faster, realizing I'd already left the Amity sector behind.

Acting on impulse, I darted through a door, hoping Eric would pass by and lose track of me. I nearly stumbled, but managed to stay on my feet and shut the heavy door behind me.

As I closed it, I noticed something different about this door. A set of underground stairs led into complete darkness. Something inside me urged me to follow them. If I were Max and Eric, I'd place my victims in a dark, isolated area too.

I didn't know if I was lucky or cursed; at this point, nothing the universe threw at me could surprise me anymore. I carefully descended the spiral staircase, gripping the walls as I went, shrouded in pitch-black darkness. It felt like I had gone down two floors. Finally, when I reached the bottom, as soon as my right foot hit the ground, the lights came on.

A narrow, almost insignificant hallway stretched out in front of me, with only two doors at the end. In the corner sat a bench, a radio, and a bottle of water. There had been a guard here, but they must have left during the blackout.

A thin red line of light ran across the floor, from wall to wall, and my heel disrupted its path. I let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that my presence had triggered the lights.

I stood between the two doors, grappling with which one to open. My curiosity was a relentless force, pushing me to explore every avenue, even when it led to dangerous or unsettling places. I couldn't just stand still or ignore the unknown, it was in my nature to seek out the answers.

I chose the right door. It opened easily, but it turned out to be a regrettable decision. The room was a small, enclosed space with amber lighting in the ceiling and no windows, except for a small ventilation duct that barely seemed adequate.

The stench hit me immediately—pungent and foul. I nearly vomited on the spot, the smell was so overwhelming. The sight was just as horrifying: a decaying body in the center of the room, with limbs scattered and detached. The sight of flies buzzing around and the thought of worms made my stomach churn. I quickly shut the door, struggling to keep my breakfast down and trying to erase the gruesome image from my mind.

The noise above—the creaking of the door and the sound of footsteps on the stairs—brought me back to reality. Someone was coming down, likely the guard returning to their post. The lights being on and the disturbance would soon draw attention. My situation was worsening by the second.

I was trapped, and faced with the choice, I hoped the left room would be empty. As I entered, I avoided breathing in deeply until I confirmed that there was no corpse in sight.

The room wasn't empty, but at least the person tied up was still alive. I took a deep breath and shut the door, securing it as best as the room's mechanisms allowed.

I moved quickly to the table, which was covered in torture implements. My priority was clear: I needed to save this person and get out alive.

I grabbed a nearby chair and wedged it under the door handle to buy some time. I then hurried over to the woman, gently lifting her head to get a better look. Her face was badly bruised, and her right eye was swollen shut. While I didn't know Monica personally, it was clear that this was a dire situation. Her dislocated jaw was a particularly grim sign of the torture she had endured.

My touch stirred her, and she flinched in pain, her left eye opening with fear. I grimaced at the sight—Eric was a monster when he wanted to be. He was responsible for this.

"Don't try to speak, okay?" I said softly. "I'll get you out of here. Just stay still and quiet. I'm Grace, and I'm here to help."

She seemed to recognize my name and nodded in understanding, despite the blood trickling down from her eyebrow to her chin.

Turning quickly, I rushed to the set of keys hanging on the wall across the room. My hands were shaking as I fumbled with the keys, trying to unlock the chains restraining her.

Once her arms were free and she slumped weakly, I dropped the keys and helped her up, doing my best to support her fragile form as I prepared to get us both out of this hellhole.

The woman, with her short hair and a face marked by age—possibly around 30 or 35—had endured significant torture, evident from her battered face and dislocated jaw. As she stood up, I noticed that apart from her face, she was unharmed.

The pounding on the door made my blood run cold. My hands trembled as I heard the threatening voice from the other side, warning of dire consequences.

I couldn't just walk out; it would be foolish. Even if I could deal with him, there was no guarantee Max or Eric wouldn't be waiting outside. I looked around desperately; we were underground with no windows, but I spotted the air duct.

I pulled out my knife and began working on the vent cover. The banging on the door grew louder and more urgent.

"Get in first," I whispered to the woman, who winced in pain but managed to squeeze into the tight duct. Once she was in, I followed, unable to close the vent behind me.

The angry shouting I heard was unmistakably Eric's. He was not just a guard; he was now joining the search. As we crawled through the duct, I could hear the door being broken down and Eric's furious shouts—both at me and himself for letting me overhear critical information.

Eric had struggled to keep my name from escaping his lips, knowing full well the woman I was helping was the same one he had declared his love for just moments before. Despite everything, he was still protecting me.

The end of the duct led to a small drop into a sewer. The stench was overpowering as we landed in the grimy water. I quickly moved to help Mónica, supporting her weight as she struggled to walk.

The journey through the sewers was grueling. Mónica was weak and losing blood rapidly, and I feared for her survival. If Edgar were here, he would know what to do, and he'd probably mock me for not knowing these narrow escape routes.

After what felt like an eternity, we finally emerged from the sewers, far from the Baya, behind a hill several kilometers away from Amity.

We smelled terrible, that was certain, but it was preferable compared to the decaying corpse in the right-hand room.

I had no idea what awaited us next. We'd likely need to find refuge beneath buildings again since we would be hunted. Given that Monica had mumbled "Amity," it was clear that the faction now posed a threat to Jeanine.

At least I felt a sense of accomplishment knowing I had tried to save a life—one that Joana would probably appreciate.