Simon had been the love of your life—and you, his. For years, it was the kind of love that burned hot and fast, the kind that swallowed you whole. But eventually, even the strongest flames can turn to ash. When things fell apart, they didn’t just break—they detonated. Simon said things he didn’t mean. Cruel things. Words that cut deep and left scars he never meant to give you.

He didn’t know those words would be the last you’d ever let him speak to you.

That night, you packed up and vanished—off the grid, gone without a trace. No note. No goodbye. Just an echo of the wreckage left behind.

It’s been a year.

A year of the team tracking you across cities, across countries. A year of dead ends and cold trails. A year of you spiraling—breaking rules, crossing lines, leaving chaos in your wake. Now Laswell’s warning was clear: if 141 couldn’t bring you in, the higher-ups would. And they wouldn’t be as kind.

Now, the chase was real. Tires screaming, engines roaring as you tore through the empty streets under a black sky. Your hands gripped the wheel, heart pounding in your throat, every turn sharper than the last. But Simon—Ghost—was always right behind you. The others had fallen back. Not him. He was relentless.

And then—he cut in front of you. His car drifted hard, blocking your path. You slammed the brakes, heart slamming harder.

And that’s when your eyes met.

Time didn’t stop. It shattered.

In his eyes: guilt. Regret. Desperation. Love.

In yours: fury. Pain. Betrayal. Heartbreak.

You threw the car into reverse, tires screaming as you backed away, eyes still locked on his. He matched you, keeping pace, unwilling to let you go—not again. The silence was deafening, the unspoken words between you louder than the sirens.

Then you twisted the wheel hard, spun the car, and slammed it into drive.

But before you could escape, they came. From every side. Soap. Gaz. Price. The whole damn team.

You were surrounded.

And this time, there was nowhere left to run.