To Start Over (Book 1)

Wanted

Olivia's POV

Vince stood in front of us: me, Luke, Eve, and Sebastian. His face gave nothing away, set in that tense, quiet look I'd learned to dread.

"We're going underground," he said. "Immediately."

No one asked why. We didn't need to.

"They've issued a BOLO," Vince went on. "National. Your faces are all over every agency list, especially Olivia and Sebastian. CCTV footage from that alley near the train station caught you with Anika."

My stomach twisted, cold and sharp.

"They're saying we kidnapped her," Vince said. "Disappeared her after using her to stage the leaks. It's all over the networks. And with Cole's financial records exposed, they're trying to flip the narrative, call it a coordinated political hit job."

Luke let out a bitter scoff. "So now we're the criminals."

"Exactly," Vince said. "They're twisting the truth into knots. They're telling everyone we faked the evidence, framed Cole, and kidnapped a mentally unstable woman for sympathy. And the worst part is, people believe it."

I could feel the pulse in my neck. A tight heat built behind my eyes, but I forced it down. If I let myself cry every time the truth got twisted, I wouldn't have anything left.

"Even with the financial data?" Eve asked, voice tense.

"They're saying it was fabricated," Vince said. "That it came from a corrupted whistleblower pipeline. That it was revenge for Cole voting against a surveillance bill."

He ran a hand through his hair and looked more tired than I'd seen him in days. "It doesn't matter that it's true. It doesn't matter that we traced offshore wire transfers and dark money straight to Peterson's old PAC. They're burying the truth in noise."

I glanced toward Sebastian.

He stood near the window, fists clenched so tight I could see the tremble in his arms. His jaw was locked, his eyes staring through the glass like he could set the world on fire if he looked hard enough.

"We hurt them," Vince said. "Peterson's losing control. But now he's fully involved. And when he takes over, it's not about politics anymore. It's about making us disappear."

"Permanently," I said, my voice quieter than I expected.

But Vince heard me. He nodded.

He pulled a burner phone from his jacket and placed it on the table as if it weighed a ton. "This is our last contact line. We shut everything down after tonight. No more phones. No messages. No digital traces."

He looked around the room at all of us, and his voice dropped. "We vanish. We wait. Then we hit back."

He paused at the door, one hand on the knob. His eyes met mine for just a second longer than the rest.

"Be ready," he said. "They won't stop now."

And then he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed felt sharper. It was like everything was holding its breath again, as if the whole house knew we were about to disappear.

At night, I'd gone into the kitchen for some water, but found myself drifting toward the faint glow coming from the living room. Some part of me already knew who I'd find there.

Luke was on the couch, curled slightly forward, arms resting on his knees, staring into space. No screen. No music. Just him, surrounded by shadows.

I stopped in the doorway, breath hitching.