“Hails,” Celia said quietly. “I think someone is following us.”
Haley glanced in the rearview mirror, and her expression changed. “How long have they followed us?”
“I am not sure.” Celia paused. “Can we ditch them?”
“I will try.” Haley tightened her hold on the wheel and pressed harder on the gas. She switched lanes in a sharp move and turned into a side road.
The black Mercedes behind followed.
“Damn it.” Haley’s teeth clenched. “Hold on tight.”
She cut the wheel hard, flew into another street, and then sped through a yellow light.
The black Mercedes got stuck in traffic for a second, but it caught up again fast.
“They are skilled.” Haley’s voice was tense. “Cece, who are these people? Reporters or Laylah’s men?”
Celia watched the car in the mirror. Her eyes were calm. “I do not know.”
Her phone vibrated. It was an encrypted text. [Turn right at the next two intersections and drive into the alley. We have people ready to stop them.]
Celia looked up. “Turn right at the next two intersections. Then go into the alley.”
“What?” Haley looked confused. “That alley is narrow. What if we get stuck?”
“Trust me. Turn right.”
Haley looked at Celia for a moment. She bit her lip and turned the steering wheel sharply. The car drove into a narrow alley.
The black Mercedes followed.
Just then, two motorcycles appeared in front of the alley. They stopped sideways, blocking the entire road.
Two riders sat on the motorcycles with their helmets covering their faces.
Haley slammed on the brakes. The car stopped a few feet from the motorcycles.
“What is happening?” She was shocked.
The black Mercedes also stopped. Two men in black suits got out and walked toward them.
“Cece.” Haley’s voice trembled.
Celia held her phone tightly.
Just as the two men reached the car, the motorcycle riders moved.
They got off their motorcycles and stood in front of the two men. One of them spoke in a low voice.
The two men stiffened at the sight. They exchanged a brief look, headed back to their vehicle, reversed away, and drove out of the alley.
One motorcycle rider walked to Celia’s car and knocked on the window.
Haley looked at Celia, nervous.
Celia rolled down the window.
The rider took off his helmet. He was a young man around thirty with an ordinary face but sharp eyes.
“Ms. Ross.” He handed her a card. “X asked me to tell you the pursuers are gone. You are safe now.”
The card only had an X symbol, no name or number.
“Who were those people?” Celia asked.
“People who should not be here.” The young man was polite but vague. “X said if you change your mind and need help, just contact us.”
“Pass along my thanks to X.”
“Of course.” The young man nodded. “Do you need an escort?”
“No, thanks,” Celia said. “We can continue on our own.”
“Okay.” The young man stepped back and signaled the other rider to move the motorcycle.
Haley took a deep breath and started driving again. They passed the motorcycles slowly.
In the rearview mirror, Celia saw the two riders still standing there, watching them leave.
When the car left the alley and merged into traffic, Haley finally exhaled.
“Cece, who were those people?” she asked in a trembling voice.
Celia looked at the card in her hand and spoke quietly, “People who help me fix my problems.”
“Fix your problems?” Haley was confused. “What problems?”
Celia did not explain. She put the card away. “Hails, take me to the old house. I need some peace.”
“Okay.”
The car continued driving. No one followed them this time.
Celia leaned back and closed her eyes.
Her phone vibrated again.
She opened her eyes and saw a new text.
It was not from the encrypted number or X’s men, but from a completely unknown number.
[Ms. Ross, if you want to keep your position as Mrs. Lucero, we should talk. I know who Ricardo’s real father is. I ask for a fair price. No tricks.]
Celia stared at the text. Her finger hovered over the screen before she deleted it with one tap.
Meanwhile, at the Lucero family’s suburban villa in the west of the city, Laylah stood by the window in her second-floor bedroom. She held a glass of red wine and scrolled through comments on the news. A satisfied smile curled on her lips.
Everything was going according to plan.
Her phone vibrated. An encrypted number was calling.
Laylah answered with a light voice. “How did it go? Did you succeed?”
The other end was quiet for a few seconds before a low voice spoke, “It failed.”
Zoie turned and walked downstairs. Her footsteps faded away.
Laylah stood in the doorway holding the medicine bowl. She waited until she was sure Zoie was gone. The smile on her face dropped immediately.
She walked back to her bedroom and slammed the bowl down on the vanity. A few drops of the liquid splashed over the edge.
Ricardo was still crying.
“Stop crying.” Laylah walked into the child’s room and picked him up. “I’m here. Stop crying.”
Her harsh voice scared him. He cried less but still sobbed.
Laylah walked around the room holding him, her mind racing.
“She has powerful people on her side.”
“Someone serious.”
“Some people are not to be messed with.”
The words echoed in her head.
She wondered, ‘Who does Celia have on her side? Who can make those greedy private detectives so scared?
‘Can the Ross family have a secret weapon?
‘No. The Ross family lost their power years ago. If they had real power, they would not need the Lucero family’s help to survive.
‘So what the hell is going on?’
Laylah’s thoughts raced faster. The child in her arms started crying again.
“Alright, stop crying.” She forced her voice to be soft and patted his back gently. “I’m here. Don’t cry.”
Ricardo gradually calmed down. He leaned on her shoulder, his small hand grabbing her collar.
Laylah walked to the window and looked out at the dark villa neighborhood.
This villa was one of the Lucero family’s properties, rarely used. Beckham arranged for her and Ricardo to stay here, saying it was quiet and good for rest.
But she knew the truth. This was the Lucero family stalling.
Tanner did not trust her. Emily supported her but had no real power in the family.
So Beckham had to put her here for now.
But that was acceptable.
As long as Ricardo was here and the news kept spreading, she had a plan. Step by step, she would marry into the Lucero family.
But now, Celia escaped.
And someone helped her escape.
Laylah stared into the night, her voice low. “You got lucky this time, Celia. But it won’t happen again.”
Dex Morgan works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.

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