OLIVIA’S POV


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    <b>93 </b>


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    A small, cold smile tugged at my lips as the final pieces slid into ce. The puzzle that had nagged at me for years suddenly resolved into a picture I recognized. It was uglier than I’d imagined, but at least it was whole. I had to give her credit, the woman was a master at moving strings. She’d stitched people and events together so neatly that even I had been woven into her tapestry without noticing. For years we had all been pawns on her chessboard, and she had been ying three moves ahead.


    They had mentioned my unborn child, a detail that had felt like a threat and a promise at once and though I’d never seen those men before, their words had lodged in me like a splinter. Back then, I’d believed the obvious lie, I’d believed it was Adrian behind everything because their mouths had shaped his name. I had let the thought rot and fester into a thousand bitter assumptions.


    Now I saw the pattern. She had known. She’d known I was pregnant before I told anyone. She’d orchestrated the revtion, timed it with cruel precision waiting until I was close enough to overhear when she told Adrian that she was carrying his child. Not a coincidence. Not a frightened confession. A deliberate broadcast meant to wound. She’d wanted me to hear her triumph, to feel the floor drop away beneath me. And when she sent her men, she made sure they dropped Adrian’s name into the chaos, a breadcrumb trail pointing at him


    The anger that rose then was calmer, clearer. It wasn’t the frantic, animal fury of someone who panics, it was a calcted, bone–deep resolve. To think part of the reason I’de here at all was to get revenge. For a long time that revenge had been raw and unshaped, a thing that could have swallowed me whole. She had tried to kill me twice, she had attempted to erase me, but this wasn’t about breaking her the way she’d broken me. It was about setting things right.


    I would have my revenge, yes but I would take it the right way. The justice way.


    “Hey, are you okay?” Adrian’s voice asked softly from my right. He came closer, the residue of the interrogation room’s fluorescent re catching at the bandage near his ribs. Even now, even after he’d bled for me for my son the sight of him grounded me more than I wanted to admit.


    “I’m perfectly fine,” I said, though inside I felt anything but relief and rage warred for dominance until my chest felt too tight. “In fact, I feel better now that we finally know.”


    The officer who had been facilitating the rey of the robbers‘ statements left us. Themissioner remained, pragmatic and alert, he folded his hands on the table as though to contain the situation in neat, legal lines.


    “So, themissioner prompted, “you both know this woman then, Mr Westwood?”


    Adrian’s jaw tightened. “It’s a long story. Not one I’m eager to relive. Let’s focus on the facts.”


    Themissioner nodded, ustomed to the brittle edges of people’s frailty when their histories were dragged under brightmps. “Very well. We can issue arrest warrants. We can publish her face, put out an APB, coordinate with airports, and borders making it difficult for her to leave the country. Once she’s identified publicly, it’s a matter of time.”


    I almostughed aloud again, but it would have been the wrong sound in that room. Instead, I let the idea hang there for a heartbeat, then shook my head.


    10:57 Wed, Sep <b>24 </b>


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    “No,” I said, the single word making both men look at me like I’d offered them a strange coin. “That’s not a good move.”


    Adrian blinked, incredulous. “You don’t want her arrested?”


    “I do,” I said, “but not like that.” Themissioner adjusted his tie, waiting, professional patience folded around the moment. “If you post her image, publish a warrant, broadcast that you’re closing in, she’ll run. She’s not a random thug, she’s clever, and she has awork. If she gets wind that you’ve put resources behind a public manhunt, she won’t just go quietly. She’ll disappear somewhere I’ll never find her, and if she cannot be easily caught, she can still strike in other ways. She could move, and while the police chase shadows she might orchestrate another attack. We need her in a ce where a trap can be sprung.”


    Adrian’s brows drew together. “You want us to bait her?”


    “In a manner of speaking.” the words tumbling out now that the n had taken form in my mind. “Everything Isadora did, she did to get closer to you. Even during the robbery, the robbers deliberately avoided harming you. That was on purpose. She wanted you alive and visible, essible because her obsession runs on proximity and spectacle. So here’s what I propose: instead of screaming <i>to </i>the country that we’re after her, we invite her toe to you.”


    Both men searched my face. There’s always a tiny moment when people weigh the speaker’s sanity against their own willingness to y along with a dangerous suggestion. It’s a knife–edge I know well.


    “Call her,” I said. “Tell her you want to talk. Tell her you’ll meet her at your house or your office. Make it personal. Make it something only she would bite on. The moment shees, we have officers staged wearing inclothes, undercover waiting to pick her up. No rm bell, no chance to slip away. We don’t re around the city that we’reing for her, we make here to us because she can’t resist the lure of you.”


    Adrian was quiet for a measure of time. The wound along his ribs was a dull ache under his shirt, every motion pulled at him, but the steel in his eyes was back, the same dangerous determination I’d once loved and hated in equal measure.


    “You want me to call her myself?” he asked.


    “Yes.” My voice was firm. “She expects everything to be public and blunt. She’d n for it. But she won’t expect you to invite her privately. She’s reckless, that’s how she operates. She can’t help herself. Make it sound like you want closure. Make it sound soft, personal, a weakness she’ll prey on. But under the surface, she’ll be walking right into the.”


    Themissioner’s posture softened slightly; his fingers tapped on the table as he calcted logistics. “We’d have to coordinate surveince, confirm she’s the one before she arrives, and ensure there’s no secondary n in ce.”


    “Of course,” I said. “I don’t expect anything sloppy. We’ll stage a controlled environment, Officers will be in adjacent rooms, on phones, ready, the team will be prepped to move, but not until she’s in position. No rash public notices. No media leaks. We only want her to step into a ce where there’s nowhere to hide.”


    Adrian rubbed his hand over his face, then set his jaw. He was always good at cold strategy when his instincts were turned from violence to nning. “We’ll need to ensure there’s no escape, double–check exits, confirm she’s alone, and ensure any aplices are contained.”


    “You’ll need a usible reason to get her toe,” I added. “Something that will worm under her skin and


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    make her believe you’re offering what matters most to her: time with you, the chance to ‘exin‘ everything, the promise of something only she thinks she can possess.”


    Themissioner leaned forward, his interest sharpened. “Do you have something specific in mind? Anything you’ve noticed Isadora reacts to — threats, ttery, certain words?”


    I let a breath out between my teeth. We all knew her obsessions, I knew them because they’d shaped thest five years of my life. “She craves validation and dominance. She’s vtile when she feels ignored. Tell her you want to meet to reconcile, or confess something you’ve been thinking, make it sound like you might be vulnerable to her charms again. That’s the bait. She’lle thinking she’s won.”