Mabel stepped out of MAD CLUB alone.

The music followed her through the doors before cutting off abruptly, leaving behind a ringing quiet that felt heavier than the noise. She paused near the entrance, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as the night air brushed against her skin.

She hadn't planned to leave so soon.

But waiting had begun to feel foolish.

She glanced back once, scanning the crowd spilling in and out of the club. Faces blurred together. Laughter. Movement. No sign of the man with the easy smile and the gentle voice.

Kelvin.

She hadn't even had her second drink.

Mabel shook her head softly and walked toward the road. Maybe she'd misread the moment. Maybe he'd simply lost interest. That happened. It wasn't new.

Still, disappointment settled quietly in her chest.

She flagged down a cab and slid into the back seat, giving the driver her address. As the car pulled away, the club lights faded into the distance, replaced by the calm rhythm of passing streetlights.

Her phone buzzed.

She looked at it instinctively-then stopped.

It was a text from her sister, Sylvia. She might probably be wondering where she was.

Mabel read the message and typed out a quick reply.

She leaned her head against the window, returning her gaze to the city passing by. She told herself it was nothing. A brief encounter. A stranger. A pleasant distraction that hadn't been meant to last.

Yet something lingered.

The way he'd listened. The way he hadn't rushed her words. The sense-however fleeting-that she'd been seen.

She smiled faintly at the thought, then let it go.

Some moments weren't meant to be kept.

The cab disappeared into the night, carrying her away from a man who would remember her longer than she would ever know.

***

The next day, evening found Kelvin making his way to the address in hand. He had intended to visit earlier that morning, but his day had been consumed by investigations he was running for Ben.

Now, with a few free hours in the evening, he decided to follow up on the address he had pulled from the system-the registered residence of the stranger he had collided with at the nightclub the other night. With any luck, it would lead him somewhere useful.

Instead, it led him to a quiet neighbourhood on the outskirts of the city.

Too quiet.

The street was lined with low, ageing buildings-paint peeling, gates rusted, windows watching without curiosity. It wasn't the kind of place that welcomed visitors, especially not at this hour.

Kelvin parked across the street and sat in the car for a moment, the engine ticking softly as it cooled. He scanned the area out of habit. No movement. No lingering silhouettes. Just the rustle of leaves and the occasional bark of a dog somewhere unseen.

He stepped out.

The building matched the description from the system-the registered residence of the SUV's owner. A modest two-storey structure with faded cream walls and iron balcony railings that looked recently repaired. No lights upstairs. One dim bulb flickered near the entrance, as if reconsidering its purpose.

Kelvin approached slowly. At the doorstep, he paused and surveyed his surroundings, checking for anyone approaching.

When the coast was clear, he moved to the window and peered inside.

Darkness.

Nothing.

He knocked on the door.

Once.

Then again-firmer.

Nothing.

He tried the handle. Locked.

Kelvin exhaled and stepped back, his gaze lifting to the upper windows. Curtains were drawn tight. No shadows shifted behind them. Either the place was empty, or whoever lived there knew better than to answer the door late in the evening.

He crouched near the entrance, examining the ground.

Tyre marks.

Fresh-not from tonight, but recent enough.

Someone still uses this place.

Kelvin straightened.

This wasn't a hideout.

It was a placeholder.

A registered address meant to exist on paper-nothing more.

He pulled out his phone and snapped a few discreet photos: the building, the door, the street sign. Every detail mattered now.

As he turned to leave, his gaze lingered on the darkened windows.

"You ran," he muttered under his breath. "But not far."

Kelvin returned to his car, already reorganising the case in his mind-the medal, the SUV, the false address.

This was a man with a lot to hide.

And uncovering what people tried to hide was Kelvin's forte.

He started the engine and drove off, the street sinking back into silence behind him.

The hunt had only just begun.

***

It had been weeks since Kelvin began scouting both the stranger's residence and MAD CLUB, hoping for even a glimpse of him.

Each night ended the same way-with Kelvin returning home empty-handed.

Until this particular evening.

Right at the entrance of MAD CLUB, Kelvin spotted him. The stranger stood with the medal hanging openly around his neck, a woman tucked comfortably against his arm. Moments later, they slid into his SUV.

Kelvin watched the vehicle merge into traffic before following discreetly, keeping a few cars' distance between them.

They drove toward the outskirts of the city.

Toward the same address, Kelvin had visited weeks earlier.

He remained parked across the street as the SUV pulled up in front of the worn-out house. The man and his companion stepped out, laughing flirtatiously as they headed inside.

Kelvin waited.

An hour passed.

When the light in the upstairs window finally went out, Kelvin exited his car. He surveyed his surroundings carefully before moving toward the house.

At the door, he tested the handle.

Unlocked.

He slipped inside, closing the door behind him without a sound.

The interior was dark.

Kelvin moved upstairs quietly, every step deliberate. As he neared the bedroom-certain his suspect was occupied with his guest-he pushed the door open gently, his gun already in hand.

On the bed lay the man known as John Oscar.

From the little information Kelvin had uncovered, John worked as a handler for one of the country's most notorious crime families.

John lay naked on the bed, his female companion sleeping beside him, both exhausted from their intimacy.

Kelvin's eyes moved to the scattered clothes on the floor. He nudged them aside with his foot until the man's gun came into view.

Slowly, Kelvin bent down, picked it up, and tucked it into the back of his trousers.

He stepped closer to the bed and pressed his own gun firmly against John's temple.

John's eyes flew open.

Shock froze his face as he slowly turned to look at Kelvin, confusion and fear flickering across his features as he stared at the gun aimed at his head.

Kelvin raised a finger to his lips, signalling silence.

Then, in one swift motion, he struck John with the butt of the gun.

John went limp.

The movement stirred the woman beside him. Her eyes snapped open, and she sucked in a sharp breath, ready to scream.

Kelvin turned his gun toward her.

"Quiet," he mouthed.

She froze.

Kelvin tossed her clothes onto the bed and gestured toward the door.

"Get dressed. Leave."

She didn't hesitate.

She knew the kind of man John Oscar was and had no intention of getting caught in whatever world he belonged to. She dressed quickly and fled the room without a word.

Moments later, she was gone.

Leaving John Oscar unconscious-and completely at Kelvin's mercy.