Page 222 of Nemesync
Nikolai leaned forward, gazing at me. “We need more information. We can’t keep playing this guessing game. We have to find out who she is.”
“I’m working on that. I’ll dig deeper with Brian.”
Pacing nervously in the penthouse, my mind raced with thoughts of the mysterious woman, I knew I needed more information.
I picked up my phone and dialed Brian’s number. After a few rings, Brian answered.
“Hey, Huntress. Feeling better?”
“Yeah, Brian. And thank you again. I owe you one. Marcelo didn’t spill much about the woman, but he hinted that she might have associates. I need to know who they are, where they operate, anything that can help us track her down.”
“Alright, let me dig into this. If they left any digital traces or appeared in the background of photos, I’ll find them.”
“Look for any connections to Marcelo or to her. If we can’t find anything about her, we’ll find her contacts one by one.”
“I’ll text you once I have something concrete. Stay safe.”
I hung up the phone and let out a long breath. The mission was in a few days, and I needed to make up my mind, my thoughts were all over the place.
Two days have passed, and a routine has settled in. I push myself to the limit during training with Elijah and Niko until exhaustion, and then Eli takes care of me—washing me, feeding me, and sleeping by my side.
I didn’t know how exhausting our bodies could relax our minds, but since I’ve been doing it, I no longer have time to think.
I hate thinking.
I hate silence too.
So, I try to make the two disappear when I’m awake.
There are moments when I wake up in the middle of the night because of nightmares, my heart pounding, cold sweats. Elijah always wakes up at the same time, as if he senses that something’s off. He usually sleeps with his hand on my heart or wrist, feeling my heartbeat. But he always manages to reassure me and lull me back to sleep.
One evening, Brian’s message finally arrived.
She discovered connections and identified potential allies associated with the woman and the organization.
Anxiety and anticipation filled my chest reading through the files. She’s a fucking genius. She had managed to trace digital footprints, cross-referencing data, and linking the ghost woman to a network of individuals with questioning backgrounds, some of whom are powerful judges, commandants, deputies—it’s insane.
They all turn to this organization to clean up their secrets, their shame, their problems.
There were names, faces that, until now, had remained hidden in the shadows. All these names were intertwined with the mob industry. So much information that we had never found before.
I knew it was time to take the lead, so I gathered the information Brian provided and began delving into everyconnection and picture. I knew I was close; while some names posed more challenges in analysis, much of it started to fall into place.
The patterns were clear—vendettas and conflicts among clans and gangs or powerful families. She consistently aligned herself with the leader, and oddly it was the leader she wasn’t with who endured a living nightmare. Daughters, wives, mothers, or even sisters were tragically murdered. Not many men were murdered, but it made sense considering that most of those seeking vengeance were fathers, brothers, or husbands.
This irregularity couldn’t be some kind of coincidence.
She was like a death incarnate.
Wherever she was, bodies were found—violated,lifeless.
I found Elijah and Nikolai in their office, and with my smile and a folder of info about the ghost woman, I entered, “Hey, you,” I greeted them.
Elijah looked up from his desk.
“Milaya, what’s going on?”
Taking a deep breath, I walked over to their desks and placed the folder in front of them. “I’ve got something important to share. Sit down and listen to me.”
