7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Daniel
Earlier That Day
The doorbell rings in an irritating, repetitive pattern.
Daniel’s fingers hover near the empty beer bottle on the floor, his arm draped over the couch, completely numb.
The relentless ringing finally jolts him upright, a surge of adrenaline shooting straight to his system.
He instinctively reaches for his side where his holster used to be.
Barely finding his balance, Daniel gets on his feet, carefully maneuvering through the living room floor. The bottles clink against one another as he accidentally kicks one of them under the couch. He glances back at it, wondering if he’ll remember to pick it up later.
“What!” Daniel yells as he flings open the front door, instantly regretting the volume of his outburst. “What the hell, man?” He emphasizes each word, though his voice is noticeably quieter now.
Daniel’s former partner, Andreas, strolls past him into the house, completely unfazed. “You weren’t answering your phone,” he explains.
“And what do you think that means? An open invitation to barge into my place?” Daniel slams the door shut behind him and trails Andreas into the kitchen.
The room is a dark, chaotic mess. Dirty dishes clutter the counters and pile up in the sink.
Half-empty condiment bottles lie abandoned among scattered utensils.
The trash can is overflowing, with garbage spilling out from the top and onto the floor.
On the dining table, a mountain of crumpled papers and bills is sprawled out.
The room is permeated by a nauseating and suffocating odor, thick with a musty staleness that clings to every surface, assaulting their senses with its overpowering pungency.
“Holy shit,” Andreas says, opening the window above the sink. “It smells like death in here.” He pauses, breathing through his mouth to avoid the overpowering stench.
“Yeah, well…” Daniel replies flatly. He decides there’s no point in standing and sinks onto one of the kitchen stools.
“Sofia wants you over for lunch today,” Andreas announces and crosses his arms over his chest. “So, I’m here under strict instructions to haul your ass over to our place.”
Daniel is unfazed by Andreas’s pose and proceeds to mirror him. “I’m busy,” he replies, setting the stage for a standoff.
“Doing what?” Andreas retorts. “Drinking? Because it sure as hell isn’t cleaning.”
“I was planning on spending the morning deep-washing my hair,” Daniel says with a smirk. He knows the jibe about Andreas’s premature balding is cruel, but he finds himself unable to care.
“Asshole,” Andreas remarks, but it’s clear he’s unbothered by Daniel’s comment.
“Look, if I don’t drag you out of here, the next person through that door will be Sofia.
And trust me, she ain’t ringing the doorbell.
She’ll SWAT through that front door if she has to and drag you out by the”—Andreas clears his throat—“ears.”
In a tense silence, they lock eyes, each sizing up the other, waiting to see who will break first.
“Fine. I’ll come,” Daniel relents. “But I won’t be happy about it.”
“Excellent. Spoken like a real adult,” Andreas replies, adopting his best dad voice. “Now go shower. You stink.” He gestures toward the bathroom with a decisive nod.
“Thank you for coming,” Sofia says, drying the last plate with a kitchen towel draped over her shoulder before handing it to Andreas. Her blue overalls are complemented by a snug white sweater underneath, and her black hair, tied up in a high ponytail, cascades to her waist.
Andreas takes the plate from her and places it precisely in its spot, as chosen by Sofia herself.
Daniel, meanwhile, sits on the tall bar stool at the kitchen counter, having stayed longer than he initially planned.
“Thank you for having me,” he says, making a conscious effort to sound polite.
Sometimes, entire days go by without him speaking to anyone, and he finds himself struggling with social interactions.
He had hoped it would come back naturally, like playing a guitar, but he might need more time with his training wheels.
“I was hoping you could take a look at the Black King case. I’m stumped. He’s managing to transfer large quantities of money right under our noses, and I can’t figure out how he’s doing it,” Andreas says, walking to the small desk in the corner of the kitchen and picking up a thick file.
Daniel hangs his head, shaking it slightly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Andreas and Sofia exchange a knowing glance—a silent communication familiar to many long-term couples. One of them subtly nudges the other to speak up, while the other silently reassures that they haven’t forgotten the unspoken agreement.
“Actually, we’ve been talking about—” Andreas starts, his voice hesitant.
“Oh,” Daniel interjects, sensing the politeness evaporate from him.
“—maybe having you talk to Chief Warren again,” Andreas finishes.
Sofia’s eyes dart between the two men, like the ticks of a clock counting down before an impending explosion.
“I don’t see the point in that,” Daniel replies, his tone turning cold as he stands from the stool. He starts toward the front door, but Andreas and Sofia are quick to follow.
“I do. You need your job back,” Andreas continues.
“Well, my job doesn’t want me, and we’re never getting back together,” Daniel snaps, his voice sharp and final.
Sofia quickly slides the door shut to the children’s play area, where their twins are engrossed in a show on the tablet. Her eyes dart around as she turns to Daniel, placing a gentle hand on his arm.
“You can’t keep going like this,” she says, her voice trembling. “We’re so worried about you. Please. Please, just talk to Warren about coming back to the force.”
Sofia’s plea hits Daniel hard, and he curses himself for making her feel this way.
It’s rare for Daniel to witness this softer side of Sofia, her nurturing, gentle demeanor.
The sight of her treating him with such compassion, instead of expressing frustration or disappointment over the nights Andreas comes home late, stirs a deep pain in his chest.
He considers giving in to her request, but the stubborn asshole in him wins out.
“He made his decision clear,” Daniel says.
“You hit Sergei Chernov in front of dozens of people! VIPs, all of them, and it was caught on multiple cameras. What did you expect Warren to do? He had to suspend you. And instead of apologizing, you started stalking Sergei?” Sofia whisper-shouts.
“He killed her!” Daniel’s voice cracks with raw emotion, coming out louder than he intended.
Sofia’s face pales as she glances back to the children’s play area. She strides to the front door, flinging it open. “Too loud. Out,” she commands, leaving no room for argument.
“He killed her, Andreas,” Daniel says quieter, his annoyance boiling over as he strides out the front door. “I’m so tired of powerful people getting away with this. I’m exhausted from them hurting innocent people. And she was innocent! I know he killed her, and I’m going to prove it.”
“How?” Andreas asks, following his friend outside, his forehead creasing. “It was ruled a robbery—”
“That’s bullshit,” Daniel snaps, pointing a finger in his partner’s face.
“You have no evidence to support your theory,” Andreas says, taking a step forward. “Daniel, you need to listen to me. You need to drop this. You’re like a dog with a bone, but that bone is filled… with grapes and onions and smothered in chocolate.”
The absurdity of the analogy breaks through the tension, bringing a brief pause to their argument.
“Rafael?” Daniel chuckles, a hint of amusement flickering across his face.
“Yes,” Andreas says with a smirk. “That kid is determined to get a dog, so we get daily lectures about them. Today’s lesson was all about what foods are toxic for dogs.”
“Can you at least promise to be careful?” Sofia says softly as she steps closer to Daniel.
“Sergei doesn’t strike me as the type to ask questions first. If you’re going to continue investigating him,” Andreas glances at his wife, surprised by her deviation from their original plan, “please do so carefully and be smart.”
“I wish I could promise you that, Sof,” Daniel says with a weary sigh. “But we both know I’m not the smartest guy around.” He tucks his hands into his pockets and walks away.
Later that afternoon, Daniel parks his car outside the tall apartment building, lowering his cap to shield his face—a habit he’s developed over the past few months. As he rolls down the passenger window, the enticing aroma of street food drifts in, rich and savory, teasing his senses.
The loud chatter of a large family dressed in matching “I <3 Las Vegas” shirts and red pants fills the air as they pass by Daniel’s car.
The mother clutches a comically oversized map, while the father struggles to manage their three young children—two of whom are tethered to kid leashes, a concept Daniel, as a non-parent, finds perplexing.
The youngest child sits in a neon pink stroller, its blanket dragging on the ground.
The middle child darts toward the mother, knocking the map from her hands.
A light gust of wind sweeps it away before she has the chance to grab it.
Daniel quickly rolls up the window to avoid getting roped into helping them with directions.
In stark contrast, a stream of businessmen across the street navigates the crowded sidewalk with a synchronized grace that feels almost choreographed. Daniel absent-mindedly checks his phone, and his heart skips a beat when he looks back up.
What the hell is she doing here?
He pinches the bridge of his nose and rubs his eyes with his thumb and index finger to make sure his eyes still function.
There’s no way she could be here.
Despite the passage of over five months and the brevity of their encounter, Daniel remembers her distinctly.
Aurora.
He straightens in his seat, his heart pounding fast as he grabs his camera. His hands shake as he adjusts the lens, trying to steady the camera for a clearer shot. Click. Click. Click. Each shutter sound amplifies his growing unease. He zooms in and takes a few more photos. Click. Click. Click.
His eyes confirm what his mind is struggling to accept. Aurora is here.
But why?
Daniel’s mind races through possible explanations. Could it be a coincidence? After all, there are countless apartments in this building. She could be visiting someone else.
Yet, something deep inside him—his detective instincts, perhaps—whispers that this isn’t just chance. She’s here for him.
For the next few hours, Daniel trails Aurora and Misha around the neighborhood, keeping a safe distance.
When they enter the ice cream shop, he crosses to the other side of the street, positioning himself near the bus stop.
From there, he has a clear line of sight on them while remaining inconspicuous.
When they reach the park, he leans against a tree, pretending to be on his phone to avoid alarming anyone with his presence.
A single man in a park full of children isn’t the best look.
Daniel attentively watches Aurora. She doesn’t take her eyes off Misha for a second. When Misha trips and falls while pretending to be a dinosaur, he barely has time to crumple his face before she scoops him up, tickling him and earning a smile.
Given Sergei’s reputation for cycling through nannies so quickly, Daniel isn’t surprised that Misha has a new one. Just two weeks ago, he saw Misha with a stern older woman who had dark, heavily painted eyebrows. Even from a distance, Daniel could tell she was constantly annoyed with Misha.
But what he can’t shake is the fact that the new nanny is Aurora.
The coincidence doesn’t sit right with him.
Daniel’s thoughts spiral, the endless possibilities of the future unfolding one by one like scenes in an uncharted narrative.
An idea begins to take shape, one he knows could very well end in disaster.
He’ll have to get creative, push the boundaries of what’s right and legal, and ensure Sergei pays for his crime.
Stealing a glance at Aurora, he recognizes her as the missing piece, the means he needs to get what he wants.
When Aurora drops Misha off at the apartment, Daniel waits for her to exit the building. He taps his foot repeatedly, then moves to stand by a streetlight, keeping his eyes fixed on the entrance. When she finally steps out, he gives in to his recklessness and begins following her once more.
He moves when she moves. He stops when she stops. Once, she glances back, nearly spotting him, but he ducks into a nearby alley to avoid being seen.
After turning the corner, Aurora slips into the pharmacy.
Daniel considers his options for a moment, then pushes through the sliding doors after her.
A soft chime sounds above him, and a young girl mumbles, “Welcome,” without looking up from her phone.
His heart races, escalating with each second he can’t see Aurora.
He walks past the aisle she’s in, and when he spots her, he lets out a quiet breath and grabs a bag of Doritos to hold in front of his face.
He shouldn’t be this nervous. Perhaps his time away from the job has left his skills rusty, like a rookie drawing his weapon at the sound of a backfiring car.
He pulls his cap lower over his face, rubbing the back of his neck as he walks down an aisle perpendicular to the one Aurora is in.
She moves steadily between the long rows of products, pausing periodically to pick up an item.
Before Daniel can talk himself out of this truly horrible idea, before he can hear the warnings of Andreas—or, worse, Sofia—echoing in his mind about the potential consequences, he steps into Aurora’s aisle.
He has no other option. Aurora doesn’t deserve this, but he has to try. He has to. There’s no other way.
In a deliberate move, he bumps into her.