After Jillian, Dante, and Leo returned to their hideout, they were in high spirits. Victor had taken the bait, and that was a major step forward. The trap was set, and all they had to do now was wait for it to snap shut. But they couldn't afford to sit idle. There was still unfinished business—resolving the case from the night Jillian was nearly kidnapped by Camilla's man.
Sitting around a dimly lit table in the warehouse, Jillian spread out notes, old messages, and any clues they had gathered. "We need to backtrack. That night, Camilla's man was following me. He wasn't working alone. Someone else gave the order," she said, tapping a pen against the table.
Dante leaned back, arms crossed. "We never saw his face clearly. He vanished before we could get a good look."
Leo nodded. "But we know it wasn't a random attack. Camilla wanted you gone. If we dig deeper, we might find out who she's still working with."
Jillian's eyes darkened. "Then we make them talk."
They were done playing defense. It was time to go on the offensive.
After Jillian, Dante, and Leo returned to their hideout, the air buzzed with renewed determination. Victor had taken the bait, and that alone was a huge win for them. But they weren't done yet. While Victor unknowingly followed the false trail Jillian had set for him, they needed to deal with another loose end—resolving the mystery of the night Jillian was nearly kidnapped by Camilla's man.
Jillian sat on an old wooden crate, tapping her fingers restlessly on the surface. "Dante, we need your help figuring out who that man was. The problem is… Leo and I never saw his face clearly," she admitted, frustration lacing her tone.
Leo leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "It all happened too fast. We barely had time to react before he disappeared into the night. He knew what he was doing."
Dante exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "That's a problem, but not an impossible one to solve. If this guy was working for Camilla, there has to be a trail. No one moves in this town without leaving a trace." He stood up and started pacing. "We need to think—where did he come from? What was his escape route? Someone had to see him."
Jillian nodded. "Then let's start digging. If we can find even one person who saw him that night, we might just get the lead we need."
They had come too far to let an unknown threat linger in the shadows. This time, they would be the ones hunting him down.
As the night deepened, Jillian, Dante, and Leo remained gathered around their makeshift meeting spot in the abandoned warehouse, going over every possible lead they could think of. The dim glow of a single hanging bulb flickered above them, casting long shadows as they pieced together the events of the night Jillian was nearly kidnapped.
Dante leaned against a rusted metal shelf, deep in thought. "If we don't have a face, we need to focus on the little details. His build, his voice, anything at all. Did he have an accent? A limp? A scar?"
Jillian closed her eyes, trying to replay the events in her mind. "He was fast. Strong. He knew how to move in the dark, like he had done this before. But his grip… it wasn't as firm as I expected. He struggled when I fought back."
Leo snapped his fingers. "That's something. Maybe he's not as experienced as we thought. Or maybe he was injured before that night?"
Dante smirked. "Now we're thinking. If Camilla hired him, there's a chance he's been seen with her before. We just need to ask the right people."
Jillian's eyes sharpened with determination. "Then we start with the people closest to her. Servants, guards, anyone who's been around her for long enough to notice if she had a new… associate."
Leo crossed his arms. "I know a guy who keeps track of hired hands in town. He doesn't talk for free, though."
Jillian smirked. "Good thing we're not asking."
Dante chuckled. "That's my kind of plan."
With their next steps clear, the trio left the warehouse, moving like shadows in the night. They weren't just looking for answers anymore. They were hunting down a ghost from Jillian's past, and this time, they wouldn't stop until they uncovered the truth.
The streets were quiet, the only sounds being the distant barking of stray dogs and the occasional hum of passing cars. Jillian, Dante, and Leo kept to the darker alleys, their movements calculated, their minds sharp. This wasn't just another lead to follow—it was a step toward unraveling the twisted web Camilla had spun around them.
Dante led them toward an old bar on the outskirts of town, a place known for housing those who dealt in secrets and information. The wooden sign above the entrance creaked in the wind, the faint smell of alcohol and smoke lingering in the air.
Inside, the bar was dimly lit, filled with a few scattered figures hunched over drinks, whispering in hushed tones. Dante spotted a familiar face at the corner table—a man named Rocco, an informant with ties to various underground networks.
As they approached, Rocco eyed them warily. "Didn't expect to see you here, Dante. And with company?"
"We're looking for someone," Dante said, sliding into the seat across from him. Jillian and Leo followed. "A man who works for Camilla Robbinson. Someone she sent to take care of a loose end."
Rocco took a slow sip of his drink before smirking. "You're talking about a ghost, Dante. That kind of man doesn't leave trails."
Jillian leaned forward, her eyes cold. "Then we make him leave one."
Rocco chuckled, tapping his fingers against the rim of his glass. "You've got guts, kid. But ghosts don't scare easily, and they sure as hell don't come when called."
Jillian's expression remained unreadable, but Leo could see the fire burning in her eyes. "Everyone has a weakness," she said evenly. "Even ghosts."
Dante leaned back in his seat, studying Rocco. "You know something," he said. "Or at least, you know where to start looking."
Rocco sighed, setting his drink down with a soft thud. "I might have heard whispers," he admitted. "But if you go digging in the wrong places, you'll end up buried before you get your answers."
Jillian wasn't deterred. "Give us a name," she pressed.
Rocco shook his head. "Not a name. But a place." He scribbled something on a napkin and slid it across the table. "The warehouse on Hollow Creek. If you're lucky, you'll find someone who knows more."
Dante picked up the napkin, reading the words carefully before slipping it into his pocket. "Appreciate the tip," he said, standing up.
Rocco gave them a knowing look. "Watch your backs. If you poke a ghost too hard, sometimes they poke back."
Jillian, Dante, and Leo left the bar, stepping into the cold night air. The next step was clear. If the man who tried to kidnap Jillian was truly a ghost, then it was time to pull him out of the shadows.