Watching Eyes
Later that day, Jack stumbled upon a small, cluttered room filled with cables and flickering screens. His stomach dropped when one monitor showed a live feed of his car parked outside his home. He wasn’t just tracked—he was being watched in real time. Panic clawed at him, but anger burned hotter. He slammed his fist against the desk. Whoever was behind this wanted him scared, but Jack refused to crumble.
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