"Ah, my head hurts," Victoria said as she struggled to rise from the comfort of her bed
The events of the previous night were unclear to her. It felt like a dream, but she didn't know that Anthony had injected something into her. A substance that blurred the lines between reality and fiction.
Gazing out of the ornate window of the opulent mansion, Victoria caught a fleeting glimpse of Anthony's retreating figure. She took her phone and turned it on. Victoria had placed a tracker on Anthony's motorcycle because he seemed like a mysterious person.
"This place..."
Tears started to fall as she remembered the place where painful memories, bitter and sweet, flooded her consciousness, each one had etched themselves into her heart.
Out of curiosity, Victoria planning to follow Anthony, hoping to see again the place she had left behind.
"Victoria, where are you going?" Mr. Jaxon's voice was stern, each word clipped with the weight of authority he rarely let slip.
Victoria turned slowly, already regretting her decision to leave the house without consulting him first. 
"Father, I just need to buy something outside. I won’t take long."
Mr. Jaxon's eyes narrowed. "Anthony isn’t here right now. He’ll be back later. What if something happens to you? Haven’t you learned from what happened before?"
The memory of the last time she had ventured out alone flashed in Victoria’s mind. She knew too well that in her father's eyes, she was a pawn, a tool to be used. Her feelings and desires were secondary, if considered at all.
Suppressing the swell of emotions threatening to overwhelm her, Victoria forced a bright smile.
"I will wear simple clothes, Father, so that everyone will think I am just an ordinary person. Besides, most people don’t know that I am your only daughter."
Mr. Jaxon's expression softened just a fraction, but the concern and frustration were still evident. "Victoria, it's not just about how you dress. It's about the risks, the dangers you face. You're not just anyone."
"I know, Father," she replied, her voice steady but soft. "But I promise I’ll be careful. I won’t be gone long. I just... I need to breathe, even if just for a moment."
Mr. Jaxon stood by the window, staring out at the bustling city below. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, but he knew there was nothing he could do. 
Frustration bubbled inside him, but he had no choice but to let it be. He had a crucial transaction to handle today, and there was no room for distractions.
"Call Anthony. Have him accompany you," he instructed, his voice cold and unwavering. "And make sure you're back before dark."
Victoria gave a small nod, her face a mask of obedience. Mr. Jaxon turned to leave. He clutched a sleek black case in one hand while his other hand quickly dialed a number on his phone.
Victoria was hesitant, wondering if this was an opportunity to enter the secret door in the library again or to go see Anthony. 
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when her phone rang, startling her so much that she nearly dropped it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she saw Anthony's name flashing on the screen.
"Gosh!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of annoyance and relief as she answered the call. "What? I thought you were on vacation, tsk, enjoying life, huh?"
"Come," Anthony's voice was curt and to the point.
"What?" Victoria's confusion was evident in her tone.
"Did you drop your ears? I said, come."
"Yeah, I heard that, but why?" she pressed, frustration creeping into her voice.
Anthony's chuckle was low and mocking. "Don't play dumb, Victoria. I know you placed a device to locate me. So come."
Her breath hitched. How did he know? Victoria's mind raced as she tried to come up with a response. She had thought her actions were discreet, but clearly, she had underestimated Anthony.
Victoria's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she maneuvered through the winding roads leading back to Willowridge. The GPS flickered in the corner of her vision, but her mind was elsewhere. It had been years since she last saw this town, a place that held more ghosts than memories.
The feeling that she was being watched was more than just a nagging thought, it was a presence.  
Her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, and there it was a motorcycle, following her at a disturbingly consistent distance. The rider, cloaked in black with a mask obscuring their face.
Her pulse quickened, but this was her reality now. Panic clawed at her chest, but she forced it down, focusing on the road ahead and the urgent need to reach Anthony.
Suddenly, a sharp, explosive sound pierced the silent atmosphere. Victoria’s heart leapt into her throat as the rear window of her car splintered into a cascade of glass.
A bullet embedding itself into the dashboard. Victoria screamed, swerving violently to avoid crashing. The masked rider was gaining on her, gun in hand.
In the chaos, she glimpsed the masked rider closing in, gun still raised. The intent was clear, and fear surged through her veins. Victoria fought to regain control of the car, her thoughts a frantic whirlwind. She couldn't let this be the end, not when she was so close to uncovering the truth that had dragged her back to this forsaken town.
Just as Victoria thought she was out of options, the roar of another motorcycle echoed through the narrow streets.
A sleek, black motorcycle emerged from the shadows like a dark knight, speeding towards her pursuer. The new rider, clad in black leather, fired a shot that forced the masked attacker to retreat momentarily.
Victoria's car screeched to a halt at the side of the road, her breathing ragged and her heart racing. The black motorcycle pulled up beside her, and the rider swiftly removed his helmet. Anthony’s familiar face came into view, his eyes sharp and alert.
“Are you okay?” he asked urgently, scanning the surroundings for any further threats.
“Anthony, thank God! Someone’s trying to kill me!” she gasped, her voice trembling and her hands still shaking on the steering wheel.
“We need to move,” he said firmly, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos around them. His steady presence began to calm her nerves. “Follow me.”
Victoria looked at him skeptically, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she retorted, “Why should I?”
Anthony rolled his eyes, exasperation flickering across his face for a brief moment.
Realizing she had little choice, Victoria steeled herself and followed Anthony’s lead, her car surging forward as they sped through the winding streets of Willowridge.
They sped through the streets of Willowridge, Anthony taking the lead. The masked rider was back, and the chase resumed. Anthony weaved through narrow alleys and back roads, his knowledge of the town’s layout giving them a crucial advantage. Victoria followed closely, her heart pounding with adrenaline.
As they approached the outskirts of town, Anthony led them to an abandoned warehouse. They entered swiftly, the echo of their vehicles filling the empty space. The masked rider was still on their tail, relentless in pursuit.
Anthony dismounted his bike in one fluid motion, turning to Victoria with urgency. “Take cover!” he commanded, his voice low but firm.
Victoria hesitated, her breath catching in her throat as they locked eyes. The proximity of their faces, the intensity in his gaze, made her heart race even faster. She could feel the tension between them, electric and palpable, but there was no time to dwell on it.
She nodded, scrambling to find cover behind a stack of crates. Anthony positioned himself strategically, his gun drawn and ready. 
A tense standoff ensued, the silence punctuated only by the distant hum of cicadas outside. Then, without warning, the intruder fired first, bullets ricocheting off metal and concrete. 
Victoria flinched, the sound deafening in the confined space. Anthony’s return fire was swift and precise, each shot driving the attacker back, a deadly ballet of shadows and gunfire unfolding before her eyes.
The warehouse became a battlefield, Victoria’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched Anthony move with calculated precision, his focus unwavering.
Finally, with a well-aimed shot, Anthony hit the masked rider’s shoulder, causing their weapon to clatter to the ground. The attacker, realizing the fight was lost, made a swift exit, speeding off.
Victoria breathed a sigh of relief as the roar of the motorcycle faded into the distance. She stepped out from her hiding place, her legs shaky but her resolve firm. Anthony approached her, his expression a mix of concern and determination.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softening.
She nodded
“It’s over, for now,” he said, “But we need to find out who’s behind this and why.”
Victoria nodded, her fear melting into determination. “I’m just glad you were there. But please, don't tell my father about this. How did you know this was going to happen?”
Anthony clicked his tongue, a slay smile playing on his lips. “Tsk, of course. You're the queen of troubles.”
Victoria shot him a glare, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Ahh, and you're the king of liars."
Anthony looked genuinely puzzled. "What?"
"What?" she echoed, narrowing her eyes at him.
He shrugged it off. "Never mind. But seriously, why did you put a tracker on my motorcycle? Are you stalking me? Do you... like me?"
"Ask yourself!" she retorted, crossing her arms defensively.
Anthony didn’t bother responding. Instead, he turned and started walking, his steps echoing in the empty warehouse.
Victoria followed, her mind racing. The silence between them was thick with unspoken questions and lingering doubts. She couldn't shake the feeling that Willowridge was hiding something dark and sinister, something that had grown in the shadows since she left.
Finally, she broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "Anthony, tell me the truth. How did you know this would happen? Did my father talk to you in advance?"
Anthony glanced at her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Ask yourself, Victoria," he replied, throwing her earlier words back at her.
Frustration gnawed at her, but she held her tongue.