Power doesn’t go quietly.
It screams. It claws.
And it starts burning bridges no one thought were flammable.
The first hit came before dawn.
A warehouse under Eve’s protection in Flushing went up in flames.
No warning. No bodies.
Just ash — and a message carved into the steel door that didn’t melt:
“GHOSTS DON’T RULE.”
Vasha reported it. Calm. Professional.
But Eve saw the edge in her voice.
“They’re not scared anymore,” Vasha said. “They’re testing us.”
Eve didn’t blink.
“Then they’re about to learn what fear really feels like.”
Nathan woke to find someone had broken into his backup apartment.
Nothing taken.
Nothing left behind — except a chess rook on his pillow.
Different piece. Different threat.
He checked the surveillance feed. Blacked out.
He checked the safety deposit box. Untouched.
Still — someone knew. Someone wanted him to know.
And the question wasn’t if Harper was behind it.
It was whether Harper was still playing to contain Eve…
Or to take her down.
Harper met with a man named Strauss.
Former National Intelligence. Now private sector.
Rumored ties to Krane — and other, older names.
“This thing’s metastasizing,” she said. “I need options that don’t involve courtrooms.”
Strauss smirked. “You’re finally ready to drop the badge.”
“I’m ready to win.”
He passed her a file.
“She’s got a man close to her. Loyal. Too loyal. Crack him, you crack her.”
Harper opened the folder.
Marco’s face stared back.
Marco returned to the safehouse and found Eve waiting.
Her expression unreadable. Her voice quieter than usual.
“There’s a leak.”
Marco tensed. “Where?”
“Close.”
He nodded. “You want me to find them?”
She paused.
“No. I already did.”
She pushed a small device across the table. A listening bug — cracked open, dissected.
“It was in your room.”
He didn’t move.
“Do you think it’s me?” he asked, voice low.
Eve didn’t answer right away. Her silence cut.
“I think someone close to you thinks they can use you.”
Marco’s hands clenched. “I’ll handle it.”
Eve nodded. “You better. Before I do.”
Harper’s trap was already being set.
A woman named Lyra — former Mossad, current ghost — was en route to Marco’s known haunts.
Her assignment: turn him.
By leverage. Or seduction. Or if need be, by breaking him.
Harper watched her plane’s path light up on the screen.
And whispered, “Let’s see how loyal the dog really is.”
Eve stood alone later that night, watching footage loop.
Marco with the courier boy.
Nathan stepping out of the safe building.
Harper handing off files to Strauss.
Everyone playing their part.
The camera cut.
Black screen.
And then something unexpected — a man she didn’t recognize stepping out of the shadows… and into Eve’s safehouse two nights ago.
She leaned in.
Paused.
Rewound.
His face wasn’t in the system. No record. No trail.
But he’d been in her house.
That made him a ghost.
And Eve hunted ghosts.
Baawa Unfiltered 