?Chapter 1489:
Outside, the roady deserted, a gray ribbon abandoned in the quiet. Maia’s stare hardened, cold as ice.
She didn’t rush out blindly. She knew she couldn’t catch up with the convoy now, nor would she pursue someone who had already nned an escape route. Her top priority was to leverage every resource at her disposal andunch a targeted counterstrike.
Maia pulled out her phone and quickly sent a message to Pris’s lead hacker. “Initiate a live track on a convoy of approximately five vehicles. Theirst confirmed location was the intersection of Forest Road and South Suburb Main Road, approximately five minutes ago.”
Gripping her phone, she nced back at the stove, still warm from recent use. The timing was impossibly precise, and the logic of it clicked into ce with cold rity.
It was too coincidental.
The lingering warmth meant their departure had been within a ten-minute window — and she hadn’t been dyed. They hadn’t simply left. They had timed their exit to coincide with her arrival. It was a deliberate maneuver, a calcted retreat designed to avoid her.
But how? The timing had been wless.
Maia’s eyes narrowed, her focus turning razor-sharp. Her hand moved instinctively to the car keys on the counter as a cold certainty settled in her gut. The only exnation was that she had been under constant surveince — every turn, every eleration monitored and fed into a system predicting her arrival to the minute.
A sneer tugged at her lips. She had thought herself the hunter. In reality, she had been the prey.
But if they wanted to y this game, she would change the rules.
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She immediately dialed Zoey’s encrypted line. It connected instantly.
“Maia? Did you arrive safely?” Zoey’s voice was calm.
“Yes,” Maia replied evenly. She gave a quick, clinical summary — the warm stove, the passing convoy, the calcted timing. “Zoey, I’m being tracked. They have a live feed of my location.”
A brief silence, then Zoey’s voice turned serious. “What’s your n?”
“We y their game and flip the board,” Maia said, her gaze fixed on the dense woods beyond the window. “If they want to stay hidden, we’ll force them into the light. Send Siena with a team — have them infiltrate the perimeter woods, not approach directly. I’ll create an opening, stage a disturbance, fake a departure. When the watcher moves, Siena closes the trap.”
She needed that watcher. It was the only thread leading back to the convoy — back to Chris.
“Understood.” Zoey’s reply was immediate, her voice firm. “Siena’s unit is elite. They’ll be in position within thirty minutes. Be careful, Maia. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”
“I won’t.” Maia ended the call.
She drew a steadying breath, walked to the kitchen ind, and tore open the bag of bread. She forced herself to eat. It was tasteless — a mechanical act of fueling her body — but she needed her strength. The real fight was just beginning.
She washed the dry mouthfuls down with cold water, then pressed her palms to her cheeks, sharpening her focus.
While she waited for Siena, she wouldn’t be idle. This vi was Chris’s father’s legacy. If Chris had used it as a refuge, it held significance — and perhaps it also held clues.
Maia began a systematic, inch-by-inch search of the vi.
On the first floor, shebed through the living room, kitchen, and guest room with methodical precision. Beyond the residual warmth and a few forgotten scraps, she found nothing of consequence.
She moved upstairs, focusing on the master bedroom and the study.
.
.
.