Chapter 4 The Scent Gave Her Away

Her head was pounding. Echo slowly came to, feeling a dull ache in her knees from the cold, hard floor.

She groped around and felt something soft behind her head—a sofa. With a groan, she rubbed her temples and pushed herself up onto the warm, comfortable surface.

"You've got some nerve." A commanding voice pierced the air beside her.

Echo rubbed her eyes, trying to place where she'd heard that voice before. She grimaced and looked towards the source.

Well, damn. A face as sharp as a blade, and eyes that were a striking mix of blue and a hint of purple, stunning enough to make anyone take notice. But the piercing gaze in those eyes shattered any sense of beauty, making them instead terrifyingly intense. A straight nose, thin lips, and a perfectly sculpted face didn't exude charm or coolness, but rather an air of utter arrogance, a kind of superiority that felt deadly, like the presence of the god of death.

Echo found herself staring at the face inches away from hers and was momentarily stunned. The sedative was still clouding her mind, so she didn't react much, just glanced around the room.

It was a large space with sofas and a long table—it looked more like an office than a bedroom, and definitely not a prison cell.

Echo rubbed her temples again, thinking, Has prison hospitality gotten this fancy?

A cough drew her attention. She looked towards the sound and saw another person standing next to the sofa, watching her with a mix of surprise and curiosity, as if trying to figure her out.

Echo squinted, and her eyes widened in recognition. "You're Hawk! I know you."

Hawk raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

The moment Echo recognized Hawk, something clicked. Hawk was with the Dark family, and if he was here, then this must be the Dark Family's territory. The thought sent her heart racing. She nervously shifted, trying to put some distance between herself and Hawk.

Something felt off under her. The sight of Hawk had jolted her mind awake, and Echo glanced down at the sofa.

Oh no. It wasn't just a sofa—it was a pair of legs.

Her mouth twitched in disbelief. If Hawk was standing and this guy was sitting, then Echo had a pretty good idea of who he was.

Echo turned to face that cold, unforgiving expression and gave a sheepish grin.

"Uh, sorry about that," she said, nodding as she casually stood up and put some distance between them.

This guy was the head of the Dark family, Ryan Dark, a notorious crime lord known for his arrogance and unpredictable temper.

Silence hung in the air. Echo would've loved to keep it that way, but the intense stare that felt like it could bore holes through stone made her realize that staying silent wasn't an option.

She cleared her throat, glancing over at Hawk. "What's this all about? You promised me last time you wouldn't cause any more trouble, and now you go and kidnap me? What's the deal? Or is the Dark family, kings of the underworld, now in the habit of breaking promises?" If she had to talk, she might as well take the offensive.

Hawk raised an eyebrow. This woman had guts. Before he could respond, Ryan, still sitting on the couch with that icy demeanor, spoke up in a cold tone, "Echo, you dared to mess with my stuff."

Echo watched as he adjusted his posture, his tall frame leaning back against the couch, legs casually crossed. He didn't have to do anything, and yet the air around him was suffocating, heavy with an unspoken threat.

She couldn't help but twitch slightly, though she kept her face calm, pretending to be confused. "Mess with your stuff? Mr. Ryan, even if you gave me ten lives, I wouldn't dare touch your things. I was the one who first spotted the thief today. Shouldn't you be rewarding me instead of accusing me?"

Hawk couldn't help but smirk at Echo's exaggerated look of innocence. She was really putting on a show.

Echo noticed Hawk's amused expression but pretended not to see it, lifting her chin defiantly. She didn't have anything incriminating on her, so they couldn't pin this on her easily. Messing with the Dark family's belongings? She wasn't ready to die just yet.

Mr. Ryan's gaze grew colder as he stared at her. He reached to the side and picked up a yellow silk scarf.

Echo's eyes narrowed slightly. She recognized that scarf—it was the one she'd lost to the wind.

"The ruby is mine."

The chilling, matter-of-fact tone made Echo's heart skip a beat. That ruby... she couldn't forget it even if she tried. It was the last piece she'd stolen before retiring. But no one had mentioned it belonged to the Dark family back then, or she would've thought twice—maybe even three times—before taking it.

After a brief silence, Echo raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Ryan, don't go blaming the wrong person." She quickly ran through her mental checklist. She hadn't left any traceable evidence behind, so pinning this on her wouldn't be easy.

Mr. Ryan just let out a cold snort, not bothering to respond.

Hawk picked up where he left off, saying, "There were no traces left at the exhibition site, but a very distinctive scent was. And, unfortunately for the thief, the scarf they wore ended up in our hands. Echo, one of the top thieves in the organization, your little visit today confirmed your identity beyond a doubt."

As Echo listened to Hawk's flat, emotionless words, she felt her teeth grind in frustration. Just her luck—the scarf had to land in their car. If she remembered correctly, those cold eyes that day belonged to Mr. Ryan.

Damn it, she should've never picked that sunshine-scented perfume; it got her into this mess, and now the scent was giving her away.

She was also furious with herself. Her concern for Skye had gotten her into this situation. Skye was fine, but Echo had ended up walking right into a trap. The Theft Organization was the mantis, and Mr. Ryan turned out to be the oriole. The Theft Organization thought they were smart, using the Dark family's possessions to lure her out. But Mr. Ryan was even smarter, using his own belongings to draw out the whole Theft Organization—and her. It was one big trap, and she was smack in the middle of it.

Echo's mind raced as she tried to come up with an excuse, but Mr. Ryan suddenly stood up and started walking toward her. Her eyes filled with caution, and she began backing away, frantically trying to come up with a plan.

At nearly six-foot-five, Mr. Ryan loomed over her like a mountain, radiating menace. She kept retreating until her foot hit the coffee table with a loud thud.

Losing her balance, she started to fall backward, but before she could hit the ground, something tightened around her neck. A powerful hand yanked her up, and for a moment, Echo felt like her throat was caught in a vice, the pain shooting straight to her core.

"I don't like people who lie. You better remember that," Mr. Ryan said coldly, his hand still gripping her neck with terrifying strength.