Buried Echoes

later.

blic records, no photos, nothing. It's like he was never born." A ghost. Just like me. "How the hell did we miss this?" My voice is low, cold. Why was he hidden? Silence lingers, thick and heavy, before Mabel finally speaks. "Because someone wanted us to." I inhale slowly. Exhale even slower. My voice drops even lower, laced with something lethal. "And who might that be?" That's a question neither of us can answer. Mabel hesitates. "I don't know yet. But I'll keep digging." I drag a hand down my face, forcing down the irritation simmering beneath my skin. I hate loose ends. And this? This is the kind that unravels everything. "Find out," I order. "I don't care how deep you have to go." A beat of silence. Then Mabel speaks again, her voice quieter. "There's something else." I don't like the way she says it. I grip the phone tighter. "Spit it out." She exhales sharply. "Whoever hid him... didn't just erase his existence. They buried it so deep it's like he was never meant to be found." Something twists in my gut. A hidden son. A secret so well-kept, even I, with all my resources, didn't see it. And if someone went through that much trouble to erase him- Then he's either a threat. Or a weapon. Either way, I need to find him first. "I need eyes on the governor," gripping the phone tightly, I continue. "Now. I want to know who comes in and out of his house. I want cameras hacked, schedules disrupted, every single gap in his security exposed." "Will do so, ghost." "Good." The line goes dead ________________ The air inside the Bratva's meeting hall is thick with smoke and tension. The scent of cigars lingers, mixing with the faint burn of vodka. Dim chandeliers cast flickering shadows over the long, polished mahogany table where the highest-ranking men of the organization sit in silence. The Pakhan at the head, Sergei to his right. And me, the enforcer, across from them. I step in, my boots echoing against the marble floor, my coat still heavy with the stench of blood and gasoline. A reminder of the night's events. I feel their eyes on me. Some indifferent. Some waiting. And then there's him_Viktor popov "Look who finally decides to grace us with her presence" his voice is smooth laced with amusement. A sly smirk spreads across his face "Our little krovavaya printsessa finally returns." Blood princess. I don't react, denying him the pleasure of a reaction. "Men, pakhan." I greet, taking my seat "Report Diana" "You know I always get the job done pakhan, I lean forward, unrolling the details with practiced efficiency. "The target was silenced. No loose ends. No witnesses. Clean work." A few approving murmurs pass through the room. The older man chuckles, shaking his head. "Our princess works faster than most of the boys we've trained for so many years, you amaze me ghost." But then, viktor scoffs mockingly "Of course she does. Women are good at cleaning, aren't they?" He exhales smoke from his cigar, eyes glinting with amusement. The room stills. A low chuckle from one of the underbosses, but no one speaks. They're waiting. I tilt my head, letting the silence stretch. Lett