Not really.
The warehouse encounter replayed in his mind — every movement, every calculated strike, every near-miss with Su’s life.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming on the table.
They’re escalating faster than I thought, he muttered.
The black envelope lay open. Tomorrow’s coordinates glowed on the screen.
He didn’t like it.
Morning came too fast.
Su appeared outside his dorm, her expression hesitant.
“Sid… are you going to the coordinates today?”
“Yes,” he said.
Her brows knitted.
“You shouldn’t,” she said quietly.
“I have to,” he replied.
Her lips pressed together.
“You don’t even know what’s waiting there,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer.
Because he did.
And that was the problem.
At school, whispers followed them everywhere.
The smear campaign had mutated. Now students avoided them — some out of fear, others out of curiosity.
Sid ignored it all.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Every step he took was precise. Every glance calculated.
But he couldn’t shake the subtle pull he felt when Su walked beside him.
Her hand brushed his twice. He didn’t pull away.
Focus, he reminded himself.
The coordinates led to an abandoned mansion on the outskirts of the city.
The place was silent.
Too silent.
Sid crouched near the entrance, scanning. Shadows stretched across broken windows, the wind whistling through missing panels.
Then he saw movement.
Three men approached from the left.
Two from the right.
And someone… above.
He didn’t have time to react.
A voice cut through the stillness.
“Welcome, Mr. Sid.”
Lee’s son stepped out from the shadows, sleek suit, calm expression.
“You’ve been busy.”
Sid’s eyes narrowed.
“You’ve been using the school’s system,” Lee’s son continued, almost admiringly. “Manipulating things. Clever.”
Sid said nothing.
The men advanced.
A sudden flash from the balcony.
Su.
She had climbed without telling him.
Sid’s heart skipped a beat.
“Get down!” he shouted.
But she didn’t move.
The attackers lunged simultaneously.
Sid reacted instinctively.
Every strike was precise, every movement efficient. He fought like he’d trained all his life.
But the numbers were against him.
One man slipped past, grabbing Su’s arm.
Sid’s stomach dropped.
“Let her go!” he yelled, sprinting.
The man twisted her body.
Sid reached her just in time, shoving the attacker aside.
Su collapsed into his arms, trembling.
“Sid… I…” she whispered.
“I know,” he said quietly.
He didn’t allow himself to think beyond the moment.
The fight ended, but the damage was done.
Sid and Su were unharmed physically. But the message was clear: Lee’s son wasn’t playing.
He was sending a warning.
A promise.
Sid clenched his fists.
He would respond.
But he knew it wouldn’t be clean.
Not anymore.
Back at their dorm, the night was heavy.
Sid didn’t sleep. Su sat beside him, quiet.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to.
Her presence was enough.
He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay.
He wanted to tell her he’d keep her safe.
But he couldn’t.
Not yet.
Because he knew this war was only beginning.
The next morning, a new envelope arrived.
White. No seal this time.
Inside:
“You’ve protected her once. Next time, you won’t be fast enough.”
Sid stared at it.
The room was silent except for his ragged breathing.
He knew one thing.
Tomorrow would be worse.
And there was no guarantee anyone would make it out unscathed.
Outside, Su watched him from her window.
He didn’t notice.
But she did.
She felt it — the pull between them, the tension, the danger.
She wanted to reach him.
But she didn’t.
Because some things… you couldn’t change.
And Sid?
He was already planning the next move.