They were supposed to die in that hospital.
Don Khan's men had swarmed the corridors, moving with the precision of trained killers. Kalisa had caught their reflection in the glass of the medicine cabinet..
Justin didn't think. He moved.
Kalisa was groggy and very weak, but Justin carried her out of the bed like a lifeless mannequin and whispered, "If you want to live, don't ask questions."
They'd used a fire drill to cover their escape. Justin had set off the alarm by jamming a fork into an outlet and tossing it into the linen closet. There was smoke, screams and chaos. The entire hospital erupted into a swarm of panicked nurses and stampeding patients, just enough confusion to slip past the goons.
Justin had stolen a wheelchair, shoved Kalisa into it, and wheeled her right past Don Khan's men like a concerned nurse without anyone noticing.
Once they hit the street behind the hospital, he ditched the chair, helped Kalisa limp into a stolen cab, and they didn't breathe again until the city swallowed them whole.
Kalisa barely made it through the front door before her mother's concerned voice reached her.
"Kal? What's happening?"
Her mother emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her brows furrowed in worry. The sharp eyes that had raised Kalisa alone didn't miss a thing.
Kalisa forced a smile. She had begun to regain her strength.
Lisa, Kalisa's mother, was a woman of quiet resilience. Life had not been kind to her, yet she faced every hardship with unwavering determination.
She had raised Kalisa alone, never once letting her daughter feel the weight of their struggles. A single mother in a ruthless city, Lisa has learned to navigate the harsh realities of life without losing the kindness in her heart.
She was a woman of simple joys. She found peace in cooking, in tending to the small potted plants by the window, in humming old lullabies when she thought no one was listening. But beneath that gentle exterior was a steel core.
One who is struggling to survive with a medical ailment. She was grateful because Kalisa had always been there. She often wonders if she would have lived this long without Kalisa.
Lisa never asked Kalisa too many questions, though she often wanted to. She saw the exhaustion in her daughter's eyes, the late nights, the bruises that Kalisa always had an excuse for. But Lisa knew better than to pry. She understood that Kalisa was trying to protect her, trying to keep the darkness of her world from creeping into their small home.
And so, Lisa did what she had always done, she loved Kalisa unconditionally.
She cooked for her, made sure she ate and made sure she had a home to return to, no matter how late.
But deep down, she knew something was coming.
A mother always knows.
And this time, she feared that whatever trouble Kalisa had found herself in… it was bigger than ever before.
Her mother's gaze lingered on her pale face, on the way she swayed slightly, exhausted. "Where have you been? You look like you haven't slept in days."
Kalisa grabbed the food her mother had prepared and clutched it like a lifeline. "I just need some rest, okay? I promise I'm fine."
Her mother sighed but didn't push. "Alright. Eat something, then sleep," she said as she watched her daughter, who was now walking in a slow but funny way.
"Are you hurt?"
Kalisa turned slowly but firmly. "Why did you say that?"
"Nothing, Kal, please try and rest," Lisa replied.
Kalisa nodded, already making her way to her room.
Once inside, she locked the door, set the plate of food down on her desk, and collapsed onto her bed.
Her mind was racing.
She needed to get back to the marketplace. The place where Don Khan's wallet was still hidden, where she had left it before she passed out. If anyone else found it first, she was dead.
But then her gaze flickered to her bag.
Slowly, she reached inside and pulled out the other wallet.
Detective Caleb's wallet. She had stolen it while he was with her in the hospital.
She didn't tell Justin because she was not sure of what to do. Justin looks like he was not going to pay her. She knew something was off with him.
She stared at it, her heartbeat steady but curious.
She hadn't meant to take it. It had just happened. A habit. A reflex.
She had told herself she wouldn't open it.
That was a lie.
Kalisa turned it over in her hands. It felt heavier than a normal wallet should.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she slowly unzipped it.
The moment she peeked inside, her breath caught in her throat.
Her stomach twisted.
Her hands clenched around the wallet.
This wasn't just a cop's wallet.
This was something much bigger.
And now… she was in even more trouble than she had realised.
Kalisa's fingers trembled slightly as she pried the wallet open, her breath shallow.
Inside, she found the usual things: cash, ID, and a couple of cards.
But then, nestled at the bottom, she found what had made the wallet feel heavier than it should.
A key. It wasn't just any key.
It was thick, gold, and old-fashioned, with strange markings along its shaft. The kind of key that didn't open an ordinary lock. The kind of key that meant something.
Kalisa's pulse quickened.
This was no accident. Caleb was a detective. Whatever this key opened, it wasn't just some apartment door.
She stared at it, her mind racing.
Should she give the wallet back?
Should she tell Justin and demand her payment?
The money. She needed the money.
Lisa's medication wasn't cheap. The hospital bills were stacking up. If she didn't come up with something soon, things would get worse.
She clenched the key in her fist, shutting her eyes.
She could return it. Walk up to Caleb, pretend she had found it, and play the innocent card. Of course, Detective Caleb would be happy and maybe forgive her for stealing his wallet.
Or she could go to Justin. Tell him what she had, let him handle it, and finally get paid.
But then again…
Would Justin even give her the money?
Or would he take the wallet and leave her with nothing?
She counted the money in the wallet of Detective Caleb, and it was about $2,500 and a little change.
Her mind was at war with itself.
Then, suddenly, her phone buzzed.
She flinched, snapping out of her thoughts.
A message from an unknown number.
"You have something that doesn't belong to you. Return it before it's too late."
Kalisa's blood ran cold.
She decided that she would have to deal with that the next day, as she needed to rest so that she could get back to work as quickly as possible.
That night, Kalisa lay in the quiet shadows of her room. She stared at the ceiling, but her mind wasn't there. It was still in the market, replaying the moment over and over, the moment Detective Caleb held her hand
His name echoed in her head like a secret she wasn't supposed to say aloud. There was something about the way he looked at her. Calculated. Curious.
Like he was peeling her open without even trying. And that smile, or rather, the lack of one, made her wonder more. He didn't flirt. He didn't chase. He observed. And somehow, that made her want him even more.
Her hand slipped beneath the sheets, not with urgency, but curiosity.
She imagined his voice, low and rough at the edge. The way he'd say her name when no one else could hear it. The brush of his stubble against her neck, his hands, firm, commanding, as if he already knew how to touch her without asking.
Kalisa wondered if he would be soft or hard, she wondered if he would be a boob sucker or a pussy eater.
Her hands carefully caressing every part of her including her wet pussy. Her nipples had become hard, and her throat was now very dry.
Kalisa bit her lip and closed her eyes.
She wasn't someone who gave in easily. She didn't trust men. And yet, in her fantasy, Caleb wasn't just someone she wanted; he was someone she challenged. She imagined herself pushing him against a wall, teasing him, testing his control. And he'd take it. Until he didn't.
She imagined him pinning her wrists, whispering that he knew she was dangerous but wanted her anyway. That he didn't care if she had blood on her hands, as long as she was his for a night.
Kalisa's breath hitched. Her body responded before her mind could catch up. And for a moment, in the safety of her fantasy, she allowed herself to fall into the idea of being with someone who could match her fire, someone who could destroy her, or save her. Or both.
She imagined Detective Caleb inside of her, making every right move. She wanted him more as she whispered his name… Caleb.
She was now naked, and the bedspread was on the floor. Kalisa could not stop herself as she reached climax.
And when it was over, she lay still, heart racing, skin tingling with a mix of regret and satisfaction.
"You're getting soft," she told herself. "Don't confuse lust for loyalty."
But deep down, Kalisa knew that Detective Caleb had already become more than a mark.
He had become her weakness.
And in her world… weaknesses could get you killed.
Sleep, Kal, you've got this," she smiled to herself.
Suddenly! There was a sharp knock on the door. Kalisa grabbed her pistol.