His voice carried faintly through the decoy’s concealed microphone — low, strained, vibrating with something far more dangerous than anger.
“So you thought you could hide,” he said, words dragged out slowly, each one steeped in contempt. “You thought a new name, a new house, a new life would erase what you did, you f*****g cunt.”
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Agents held position — waiting for confirmation, waiting for certainty, waiting for the exact threshold where intervention would be undeniable and decisive.
Ben’s breathing grew heavier, erratic, charged with obsession sharpened by days of pursuit.
“You destroyed everything, you b***h,” he continued, voice rising, bitterness spilling unchecked. “You walked into my life pretending to be weak, pretending to be scared, and then you
