A cold sweat prickled Rico's skin. He stole a glance at Bobby's back, the broad shoulders radiating a menacing aura. For the first time, the unwavering loyalty he'd held for his boss began to waver.

Was this twisted game worth the price he might have to pay? Was there a line he wouldn't cross, a point where even blind loyalty turned sour?


Rico forcefully swallowed, spreading a doubtful seed in the dark soil of his anxiety. He was aware that he needed to make a choice, and that choice was pressing down on him like a dense fog.

Bobby struck the dusty coffee table with his fist, causing the chipped mugs to rattle and his goons to shudder. "Empty!" he said, his voice resonating across the deserted room. "The place is deserted!"

"We searched everywhere, boss," Smash, his top enforcer, said, his voice dripping with a nervous sweat.


"Everywhere?" Bobby spat, his eyes narrowed. "Looked under the floorboards? Behind the drapes? This place is a dump, there can't be many hiding spots!"

Smash and his gang looked at each other anxiously. Like a hurricane, they had ravaged the flat, searching every nook and cranny. The eerie quiet taunted them, a reflection of Sarah's careful preparation.


"Maybe they got a tip," another goon, Rico, mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"A tip?" Bobby scoffed. "Who would tip them off? That old spook, Black?"

"Maybe the woman," Smash offered cautiously. "The one who spilled the beans about the emails."

Bobby's scowl deepened. "Emily? Ha! She's probably already singing like a canary to Ramirez. Useless!"

He slammed his fist down again, rattling the windows. The frustration was a bitter pill to swallow. He'd been so confident, so certain he'd find Sarah here, a sitting duck for his revenge. Now, she was gone, vanished like a wisp of smoke.

"Find them," Bobby growled, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "I want them all. Sarah, the kids, Black... anyone who's helping them. Leave no stone unturned."

Smash and his men gulped. This wasn't just about silencing Sarah anymore. This was about absolute domination, about crushing anyone who dared to oppose him. The air crackled with a sense of impending violence, a storm brewing in Bobby's dark eyes.

"And that damn spy," Bobby added, a new thought seemingly striking him. "Find out who it is. Someone tipped me off that Sarah was alive. Someone wants to play both sides. I'll have their head on a silver platter."

The goons nodded fervently, the threat hanging heavy in the air. They knew Bobby wouldn't hesitate to make good on his promise. Leaving the ransacked apartment behind, they filed out, a dark cloud of purpose hanging over them.

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

Meanwhile, miles away, Sarah and Derrick huddled in the abandoned cabin, the sound of the wind whistling through the trees their only companion. The weight of their situation pressed down on them, the silence punctuated only by the ragged gasps of their shared anxiety.

"Do you think they found anything?" Sarah whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Derrick pulled her close, his arms offering a small measure of comfort. "We don't know," he admitted, his voice gruff. "But Mr. Black said they wouldn't expect us to stay put. Hopefully, they'll draw a blank."

Sarah felt a tear escape from her eye and run a warm trail down her cheek. Her heart hurt all the time thinking about their children, who were secure yet far away.

Sarah and Derrick were crowded around a burner phone, their expressions etched with dread as the flickering gaslight cast an uneven hue on their faces. The silence stretched until it felt deafening as Sarah gripped the worn device in her quivering hands.

"Come on," Derrick murmured, his voice rough with unspoken fear.

A faint crackle finally broke the silence, followed by a cheerful chirp. Sarah's heart leaped into her throat. It was Margaret, the woman from the safe house, answering with her usual calm demeanor.

"Hello?" Margaret's voice filled the room.

"Margaret, it's Sarah," Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible. "Is everything alright?"

"Sarah! It's good to hear from you," Margaret replied, her voice a soothing balm. "The boys are doing well. A little cranky this morning, missing their bedtime routine, but overall healthy and safe."

Relief washed over Sarah in a wave. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. "How are they eating?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

"Like little piglets," Margaret chuckled. "Leo's discovered a newfound fascination with throwing his spoon across the room, but they're both getting a good amount of food."

A watery smile graced Sarah's lips. Even amidst their desperate situation, the image of her mischievous son brought a flicker of normalcy to their world.

"Have they been asking about us?" Derrick asked, his voice gruff but laced with a hint of hope.

"Not in words, of course," Margaret explained, "but they do get a little fussy at bedtime. We sing them their favorite songs, and that seems to help."

Sarah closed her eyes, picturing Ethan and Leo in Margaret's care. The image was bittersweet, a comfort and a burden at the same time.

"Can I... can I talk to them?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Margaret said gently. "Just a moment, let me get them."

The sound of soft cooing filled the phone, followed by a giggle. Then, a familiar, high-pitched squeal pierced the air.

"Et! Et!" Sarah choked out, tears overflowing her eyes.

"A tiny, inquisitive voice cracked across the phone, "Mama?" Though the word wasn't very clear, the small voice's need was obvious.

Sarah murmured, "It's Mama, baby," her voice breaking with grief. "I love you so much. I really do miss you."

The phone let out a cry that broke Sarah's heart and filled it with an intense affection.

Derrick whispered, "We love you too, honey," his voice heavy with unseen tears. "We'll be back to you soon, I promise."

A few more minutes passed, during which time their children's babbling sounds, hushed sobbing, and whispered vows were all heard. Sarah finally hung up the phone with a sorrowful heart.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. Sarah slumped against Derrick, burying her face in his shoulder. The weight of their situation pressed down on them, the burden of their absence a tangible presence in the isolated cabin.

"They're okay," Derrick murmured, stroking her hair gently. "They're safe."

Sarah drew a trembling breath and nodded. She muttered, "They are," in a voice that was hardly a croak. "But for how long?"

The question lingered in the air, serving as a depressing reminder of how vulnerable their situation was. Their children's safety was in jeopardy while they were fleeing from a powerful adversary.

They did, however, cling to a glimmer of hope and a resolve to fight for their family and take back their lives in spite of their fear and uncertainty.

Her voice was choking with emotion as she asked, "How long can we stay here?"

Derrick sighed, the sound heavy with worry. 'Until things cool down," he said. "Mr. Black will keep us updated on Emily's testimony and Ramirez's investigation. Then, maybe, we can figure out a way to get the twins back."

Sarah nodded, burying her face in his chest. They were faced with a wide and terrible unknown that was full of uncertainties. However, while they huddled in the remote cabin, they held onto a glimmer of hope and vowed to uproot the guy who threatened their fragile existence and save their family.

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

Derrick heard the sharp sound of the burner phone buzzing in his pocket through the calm cabin. He excused himself from Sarah, who was lost in a book, a desperate attempt at normalcy amidst their chaotic situation. Stepping outside, he answered the call with a cautious, "Hello?"

"Derrick, it's Mr. Black," came the familiar voice through the scratchy speaker. "I have some news about Bobby."

Derrick's stomach clenched. News about Bobby rarely boded well. He leaned against the rough cabin wall, bracing himself for the impact. "What is it?"

"He's transferring ownership of T&T Group," Mr. Black said, his voice grave. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

Derrick's breath hitched. "Transferring? To whom?"

"Marshal Briggs," Mr. Black replied. "The CEO of Somech Ltd."

Recognition flickered across Derrick's mind. "Wait, isn't that... ?"

"Bobby's father," Mr. Black confirmed.

A cold dread seeped into Derrick's bones. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. This was a power play, a calculated move that sent shivers down his spine. Bobby, by transferring ownership, was distancing himself, making himself untouchable, at least legally.

"Why?" Derrick forced the question out, his voice tight.

"There can be several reasons," Mr. Black explained. "Perhaps Bobby anticipates legal trouble and wants to shield his assets. Maybe it's a way to consolidate power, to make himself untouchable while still pulling the strings behind the scenes. One thing's for sure, it complicates things."

Derrick rubbed a hand over his face, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He pictured Sarah's worried face, the uncertainty clouding her eyes. How would she take this news?

"I need to tell Sarah," Derrick finally said, his voice low.

"Of course," Mr. Black said. "But before you do, there's something else."