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From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 131. The Arrest
As Cassie slowly made her way to Chris's place, she couldn't stop thinking about Ivy. She was pregnant. Ivy was pregnant. The image of the stripe kept popping up in her mind, no matter how hard she tried to forget. She remembered the amount of times she had purchased the same stripe from that same pharmacy and prayed for the same result Ivy got on a platter of gold. Why?Why was she always so unlucky in her life?No matter what she did, or tried to do, it never went her way. Right from her childhood days, everything had always been difficult for her. She always had to work hard for everything. She had to sacrifice a lot of things just to please others. Even after she grew up, she was still working like a dog just so she could wear nice things and live a life of comfort. Yet, it was an entirely different story for Ivy. Her life was utterly perfect. She had the best husband who was kind and affectionate to her. He patiently waited for her even after she left him because of Chris. I
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 132. The Community Station
"You told Cynthia to help you find them right? She came to me for help. And now I've found them for you." He said with pride. Ivy stayed still, she didn't shut the door but she didn't turn to Chris either. Her first instinct was to turn around and hear him out. But the rest of her wanted to tell Chris that she wouldn't fall for his tricks anymore and slam the door in his face. The chances that he was actually telling the truth was below ten percent, and she would be an idiot to risk her marriage again just for that. As much as she wanted to find her foster parents, Ivy had made a promise to herself that she wouldn't let it ruin her current life, her relationship with Van and her family. Without turning back, she shut the door and made her way to the station, ignoring Chris's calls for her. ★★★When Ivy arrived at the police station, Boyd was already there. She walked up to him and tapped his shoulder to let him know that she was behind him. "Oh hey, you're here." He said. "Yes.
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 133. Vindicated
After Ivy called Boyd, he suspected that it wouldn't be so easy to get Van out of the station even though he was innocent, so he decided to call his supervisor. "Welcome, Inspector Dan." He smiled. Inspector Daniel Thompson was a senior investigator at the station, even Chris didn't dare offend him because he was one of the very few who wouldn't hesitate to arrest him and have him face the law. The last time they met, Chris had tried to assault a young girl, and luckily for her, she was related to inspector Daniel, and he made sure that Chris was punished for it. Chris who believed that he was untouchable- especially at his father's place- was shocked to the max when the inspector marched into his father's mansion and placed him under arrest for attempted rape. At the sight of the inspector, the two officers who arrested Van couldn't help but to shiver. If, after the investigation was complete and Van was found innocent, they could receive huge penalties, or worse, they could los
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 134. Old Acquaintance
Ivy and Van headed out of the station and made their way to the bus stop, where they would take the bus back to their place. As they walked hand in hand, Ivy couldn't stop thinking about what happened at the station. The only way Chris would have known that she was pregnant was if someone told him, and asides from her, Van and Boyd, the only other person that knew she was pregnant was Cassie. Was she really that pissed that Ivy was pregnant that she had to tell Chris?, even though she knew that it would expose her connection with him. What was going on?"Hey, are you okay?" Van asked, squeezing her hand gently. "Yes." She said without looking at him. "Are you sure? You have that 'I'm worried about something' frown on your face. Talk to me." He urged with a smile. Ivy smiled at him. "It's Cassie.""What about her?""I wonder what possessed her to tell Chris about my baby. Does she hate it so much that she didn't mind me finding out that she was working with Chris? I don't understa
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 135. The Shot
Flashback.Jasper woke up with a splitting headache, he couldn't remember what had happened the night before, and he was having a hard time getting his bearings.He looked around and noticed that he was seated outside a bar. "Ugh my head," he groaned as he tried to get up. "What happened?" There was no one to answer his question, so he just managed to drag himself up to his feet and practically staggered back to the Airbnb he was staying at with Macy. As he walked through the reception, he noticed that the women there were staring at him awkwardly, but thinking it to be just in his head, Jasper didn't pay much attention to it. He got in the elevator and headed up to the floor their place was. He turned the knob and the door came open with ease. So Macy was inside, that was good. He slumped on the bed, feeling exhausted even when he hadn't done anything. "Macy? Where are you?"When he didn't get any reply, he sat up and called for her again. Same thing. He took out his phone to c
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 136. An Attack
While he was on his run, Van bumped into Cassie. She was dressed like she had also gone out for an evening stroll, but Van saw it a little too convenient to be just a coincidence. He had spotted her from afar and intentionally made a detour just so he could avoid her, but somehow she managed to catch up with him. Remembering Boyd's advice to stay clear from all of hem, Van increased his speed by a little but he didn't act like he saw her. To make sure he was passing his message clear enough to her, he took out his earpiece, even though he wasn't listening to any song. He kept on going at a steady pace, still aware that she was behind him. If he didn't say anything, maybe she would give up and just leave. He recalled that he had promised Ivy he wouldn't be gone long, and if he stuck to that strategy, he would have to run longer that he had promised. He came to a stop and started to stretch, and he noticed that just a few feet away, Cassie had done the same. He decided that he wo
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 137. The Plan
The next morning, after they had breakfast, Van and Ivy decided that it was time to start packing up. Judging by the way he handled the issue the last time, the couple guessed that it would take nothing more than two or three days to iron out the issue since they were getting inspector Dan involved, so hopefully by Friday or Saturday, they would hop on a plane and head back home. Van took Ivy to get checked at a hospital, she said she was feeling fine, but he just wanted to take extra measures. He explained what happened to the doctor about her attack, and how she felt. A proper test was conducted to determine the specific age of the baby, and how her body was reacting to it. All in all, Ivy was healthy, and so was the baby, but the result of the test would be out in a day, so they were to go back the next day. By the time they were done, it was already past twelve, so the couple decided to head to the police station. It was better to be early than to be late as Ivy had always sai
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 138. Victory
When Ivy and Van called Chris's cousin, she wasted no time in posting a video online. She apologized to her fans and all those who had been anticipating her visit. She said as much as she would love to come down to the town, she was feeling unsafe as a woman continued to threaten to harm her in many ways. She even went an extra mile and said that the woman, Cassandra M that lived in her hometown-which she had the plan of visiting that week- said she would make sure she regretted the day she was born if she stepped foot at the Hawaiian airport. So as much as she hated to disappoint her fans and family, she had to prioritize her safety. Sandra sat at the cafe, watching the news with gritted teeth. "That bitch!" She slammed her fist on the table. "How dare she? When did I ever threaten her safety?" She chugged down the rest of her coffee, thinking about how she was going to deal with the situation. She wanted to make her pay for saying such a thing on social media, and she didn't even
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220. The Raid
The black SUV tore through the city streets, weaving between cars and running red lights.Rain slapped against the windshield in heavy sheets, turning the world into a blur of lights and shadows.Van sat in the passenger seat, jaw tight, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on his knee.Beside him, Keller drove like a man possessed, silent and focused.Carla sat in the back, double-checking the blueprints of the warehouse on her tablet."Franklin and Third," she muttered."Two floors. Old textile plant. Abandoned for years. No security cameras, no neighbors — perfect place to stash someone."Van’s stomach twisted.It was too perfect.He kept flashing back to Vance’s words: If they think you’re coming, they’ll move her—or worse.He couldn't afford to think about what worse meant.Not now.Not when they were this close.They arrived in less than fifteen minutes.The warehouse loomed out of the mist like a dead thing — gray, crumbling, windows shattered, rust eating through the metal doors.
219. Confession
The air inside the van was thick with tension.Julian Vance sat slumped against the wall, wrists cuffed to a metal ring bolted to the floor.The blindfold was gone, but fear had carved deep lines into his face.Sweat soaked through his shirt despite the cold night air.Across from him, Van leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, studying him like a puzzle that needed solving.Keller sat beside Van, silent and looming, while Carla hovered near the door, tablet in hand, recording everything.No one spoke for a long moment.They let the fear do its work first.Vance fidgeted, his eyes darting from face to face, looking for a crack, a kindness.He found none.Finally, Keller broke the silence."You know who we are," he said calmly."You know why you’re here."Vance licked his lips."I—I’m just an accountant," he stammered."I don’t know anything."Keller smiled thinly."You know enough to get yourself killed. Or saved. Your choice."Vance’s hands twisted in the cuffs."I can’t," he whisper
218. The Aftermath
The night was soaked in the heavy stench of gunpowder and rain.Sirens howled in the distance — getting closer — but Agent Keller’s team moved fast.They swept the abandoned lot, securing what little evidence Moses had left behind: a few casings, tire tracks gouged deep into the mud, a broken phone.It wasn’t enough.Moses had disappeared like a phantom into the night, and worse — he had seen through the setup.Van had barely made it out alive.Inside the mobile command van, Keller slammed his fist against the table."Someone tipped him off," he growled."There’s no way he walked into that meeting with backup unless he knew we were coming."Carla sat beside Van, wrapping a makeshift bandage around his bleeding arm.Her hands were steady, but her face was grim.Van winced as the gauze tightened, but he barely felt the pain.His mind was somewhere else.A traitor.Someone inside their circle.Someone who had sold them out to Moses.Keller paced furiously, barking orders into his radio,
217. The Hunt
The plan was simple on paper.Simple, but dangerous.Van stood at the cracked concrete window of a forgotten motel room on the edge of the city, watching the rain smear the world into gray blurs.Inside the room, Agent Keller was setting up equipment — laptops, burner phones, tiny recorders the size of coins — while Carla scribbled notes furiously into a weathered notebook.Van’s nerves hummed under his skin.He wasn’t a cop.He wasn’t a spy.He was just a man trying to survive.And now, somehow, he was about to help bring down one of the most powerful men in the city."Here’s the plan," Keller said, pulling Van’s attention back.He laid out a rough blueprint of the next 48 hours:Van would reach out to Moses — casual, non-threatening — suggest a meeting under the pretense of "burying the hatchet."Offer him information.Play on his paranoia.The idea was to draw Moses out.Get him somewhere isolated.Somewhere they could grab him without witnesses.If they could catch Moses talking —
216. Warehouse Meeting
Van’s mind was spinning as he approached the dilapidated warehouse by the docks.The wind whipped at his coat, the sound of waves crashing against the concrete pier mixing with the distant hum of city traffic.This place had once been a hub of activity, a center of trade and industry.Now, it was just a hollow skeleton, abandoned and forgotten.Perfect.It was the kind of place where you could disappear without a trace.Van approached cautiously, his footsteps echoing in the empty street.The docks were deserted at this hour, save for a few stray cats rummaging through trash.No sign of anyone watching.But he knew better than to assume that meant safety.They were out there.Someone was always watching.His fingers brushed against the rough stone of the warehouse’s exterior as he rounded the corner.A single light flickered above the entrance, casting long, crooked shadows.A thick metal door was ajar, just enough to let him slip inside.Van hesitated for a moment, then pushed it ope
215. Late Warning
The city looked different in the dead of night.From the back of the taxi, Van saw it all pass in a blur — the glimmering skyline, the fog rolling across the river, the endless rows of apartments stacked up like cheap cardboard boxes.But it was the shadows he saw most clearly.The places where people hid their sins.Van rubbed his fingers over the cracked screen of Bianca’s phone.The evidence was still fresh in his mind — too fresh. The videos, the photos, the recordings.He hadn’t even begun to process it all.But he couldn’t stop now.He couldn’t let them win.The taxi rolled to a stop at the airport’s long-term parking lot.Van didn’t get out.Instead, he stared through the windshield at the flickering terminal lights, his thoughts spiraling.Was this it?Was he about to leave everything behind?Ivy, the kids, his life as he knew it?He couldn’t.He wouldn’t.But he also couldn’t stay.He needed allies.Van stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver in cash before walking throug
214. Secrets
Van didn’t go straight home. He knew better. If they were watching him — and after tonight, he was sure of it — bringing danger to Ivy and the kids would be unforgivable. Instead, he drove to a cheap motel on the edge of town, the kind of place nobody asked questions and the cameras were either broken or faked. The neon VACANCY sign buzzed weakly against the rain-soaked sky as Van pulled into the lot. Room 12 smelled like mold and old cigarettes, but it had a lock on the door and curtains thick enough to block the world out. For now, that was enough. He locked the door, jammed a chair under the knob, and dumped the soaked backpack on the stained mattress. He pulled out Bianca’s phone with trembling hands. Still wet. Still cracked. Still hers. Van sat down heavily and got to work. First step: dry the phone. He stripped it carefully, removing the battered SIM card and the microSD tucked into the side. Both small enough to fit in his wallet. He left the phone shell near
213. Hidden Tunnels
The marina was deserted. The storm had driven everyone indoors, and the usual hum of yacht engines and tourist chatter was replaced by the howl of the wind against steel masts. Boats bobbed violently in the dark water, their ropes creaking like dying animals. Van parked three blocks away and approached on foot, keeping to the shadows. The piece of paper with the coordinates was damp in his pocket, but he had already memorized them. The entrance to the old service tunnels wasn’t easy to find. Most people didn’t even know they existed — relics from when the marina had been part of a naval shipyard decades ago. Now, the city had simply built over them, sealing the past under concrete and forgetting. But Van remembered. His father had worked the shipyards once, before everything went wrong. He found the access point tucked behind a rusted utility shed — a heavy steel hatch, half-hidden by tangled vines. He tugged at the handle. Locked. Van gritted his teeth, pulled a crowbar
212. Meeting In The Rain
The storm didn’t let up.It pounded the city in thick, angry sheets, flooding gutters, choking the storm drains, turning alleyways into rivers of filth.Van watched it from the living room window, one hand curled around a cold cup of coffee.He hadn’t slept.He couldn’t.Not with the bloody scrap locked away in his desk drawer.Not with Ivy pretending everything was fine for the kids’ sake.At 2:37 a.m., his phone buzzed again.Unknown Number.Van snatched it up.A text this time.MEET ME.PARKER’S GARAGE. 4AM. COME ALONE.No signature.No instructions.But Van already knew he was going.★★★Parker’s Garage was an old, abandoned auto shop on the east side, gutted years ago after a fire.Van remembered it from his teenage years — a place where kids would go to drink, fight, and hide from the world.He drove through the drowned streets, headlights cutting through the rain like a blade.The city felt deserted, haunted.Every instinct told him this was a trap.He went anyway.He pulled up
