By the time night fell, I was standing in front of the gates of the Ashbourne Estate—my family’s former home.The place looked smaller now. Older. The paint was chipped, the garden overrun. It had been sold after my parents’ deaths, passed from one private owner to another, but Leon’s team had pulled strings, and the current occupant was conveniently out of the country.Still, stepping onto the grounds felt like walking through a graveyard.Leon followed silently behind me, flashlight in hand. “You sure you want to do this tonight?”I nodded. “If Elise’s father ever came back here… if he left something, it’s going to be hidden. I’ll know where to look.”And I did.The moment I stepped into the dusty main hall, memories hit me like a tidal wave. Laughter. The scent of my mother’s perfume. My father’s voice calling me to dinner. I paused, closing my eyes for a long moment, then moved deeper into the house.We headed toward the study.The one room always locked when I was a child. My fat
The sound of my own heartbeat roared in my ears as I stared at the woman lying in the medical pod. The resemblance was uncanny. Her face—older, lined with time, but unmistakably hers. The woman who tucked me in at night. Who gave me the locket. Who kissed my forehead the day before she… died.“Margarette,” Leon said softly behind me. “You need to breathe.”“I am,” I whispered. But I wasn’t. Not really.Dorian moved around the pod, checking the monitors. “She’s alive. Vitals are steady. Whatever system is running this pod—it’s kept her in stasis.”“Why?” I rasped. “Why fake her death? Why let me think she was gone all these years?”Leon reached out, brushing a trembling strand of hair from my cheek. “This… changes everything.”I stepped closer, laying a hand on the cold glass of the pod. “If my mother is here… maybe my father—”“We’ll check every room,” Dorian said firmly.We moved through the bunker quickly now, opening doors that led to dusty offices, sealed storage units, and a surv
The emergency lights strobed red across the corridor walls as we sprinted down the sterile passage. My heart pounded in rhythm with the alarm, the locket around my neck thumping against my chest like a second pulse.Leon held tight to the drive, his jaw set, every muscle in his body coiled for a fight. Dorian moved ahead, gun drawn, scanning each turn. Behind us, the footsteps were getting louder—boots, multiple, synchronized.“They’re trained,” Dorian muttered. “Probably private security. Not Elise’s father’s usual crew.”“He brought in outsiders,” Leon said grimly. “He doesn’t care who dies as long as he gets what he came for.”I stopped short at a T-junction. The hallway split—one side dark and narrow, the other marked with a glowing Emergency Exit sign.“Which way?” I asked, breathless.Dorian checked the map on his device, then cursed. “They’re blocking both exit tunnels.”“We can’t let them corner us,” Leon said. “We need a choke point.”“There’s an archive vault,” I said, memor
The rain came in sheets as night fell, battering the windows of the cabin like an angry warning. We were sitting ducks. I could feel it in my bones—this silence wasn’t safety. It was the kind of stillness that comes before a storm.Dorian had posted motion sensors around the perimeter, but even he looked tense. Leon sat near the hearth, sharpening a combat knife with short, clean strokes. Every rasp of metal against stone made my skin tighten.I sat on the floor near the fire, cross-legged, the flash drive in my hands. I hadn’t let go of it since we left the estate. I’d memorized every file already, every horrible detail Elise’s father had recorded. But there was one name that kept haunting me. One connection I still didn’t understand.“Victor Chandler – Surveillance: 8/13/2006”I didn’t know who Victor Chandler was, but that date—August 13, 2006—was the night my parents died.“Leon,” I said quietly, “do you recognize this name?” I handed him the drive.He took it without hesitation,
The storage facility looked almost exactly as I remembered it—though older now, more worn around the edges. Rows of beige units lined the gravel path, each padlocked and still in the steady drizzle of dawn.Unit C-113 sat in the middle of the third row. My heart pounded as we approached, the key slick with rain in my hand. It slid into the lock with an unnerving ease.The door creaked open slowly, revealing the interior cloaked in shadows and dust. Stacks of boxes, covered furniture, and a rusted file cabinet filled the space. I stepped inside, the smell of mildew and time washing over me.Dorian stayed at the entrance, scanning the perimeter. Leon followed me, flashlight beam sweeping the room.“This could take hours,” he murmured.I didn’t care. I needed to see.We sifted through boxes labeled with old handwriting—“Wedding China”, “1989–1995 Taxes”, “Holiday Ornaments”—until Leon stopped suddenly.“Margarette,” he called, pulling aside a tarp.Behind it sat a small, locked safe—bolt
Dawn came in silver slivers through the cracks in the window. I hadn’t slept—not really. My mind was too loud, looping the footage over and over like a broken reel.Leon sat across from me at the table, sipping his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Neither of us had said much since the footage. We didn’t need to. The truth had cut so deep, it didn’t leave room for small talk.But I had questions.And I needed answers.“How long do you think he’s known I survived?” I finally asked, voice hoarse.Leon didn’t look away from his mug. “Long enough to start covering his tracks. But he didn’t expect the locket to resurface.”My hand instinctively reached for it. The locket was warm now, like it had absorbed my grief and fury. Inside was a picture of my mother and me—her arm around my tiny shoulders, her smile soft but tired. A photo I hadn’t even remembered until last night.“He killed her,” I whispered. “He killed my father. For what? A project?”“Not just a project,”
The sound of footsteps pounding in the hallway was the last thing I heard before the door slammed open.I barely had time to react before a rush of armed men poured into the room, their eyes scanning every corner, landing finally on me. There was no mistaking the intent behind their cold stares.“Get down!” Leon’s voice crackled through the earpiece again, but there was no time to obey. I couldn’t allow myself to hesitate—not now, not when the truth was within reach.I raised my gun, my hands steady despite the chaos unfolding around me. I wasn’t going down without a fight, not after everything I had lost. Not after everything Elise’s father had taken from me.Before the first man could react, I fired. The sound of the shot echoed in the confined space, the bullet finding its mark in the man’s chest. His body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, but the others didn’t hesitate. They moved in faster, their guns drawn, but I was ready.I ducked behind the desk, using it as cover
MARGARETTE'S POVBefore we could react, the door behind us burst open.Three armed men rushed in, dressed in black, their movements precise and rehearsed. Leon shoved me behind him, drawing his gun up in an instant. Dorian, who had been lingering near the entrance, took cover behind a cabinet, gun already out.“Elise’s father wasn’t bluffing,” I breathed, my heart hammering. “He had backup ready.”Leon fired the first shot, catching one of the intruders in the shoulder and sending him crashing to the floor. Chaos erupted. Dorian ducked low and returned fire, narrowly missing another attacker who retaliated with a spray of bullets that shattered the windows.I crouched behind an overturned table, the sound of gunfire drowning out my thoughts. The locket in my palm dug into my skin, its edges sharp—a painful reminder that I couldn’t afford to lose control now.“Elise’s father!” I shouted to Leon. “He’s escaping!”Through the haze of smoke and broken glass, I saw the man slinking toward
The rain was falling again.It always did on days like this—days that felt like endings.I stood on the edge of the cliffs overlooking the stormy waters of Anacortes, my coat pulled tightly around me, the hood shielding my face from the wind that carried the scent of salt and something older—something like goodbye.Leon stood behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to feel him there. His presence was familiar now, carved into my skin like muscle memory. He’d been my gravity, my storm, my salvation, and my ruin—sometimes all at once.“It’s really over, isn’t it?” I whispered, more to the wind than to him.He didn’t answer right away. His silence was as heavy as the stormclouds above us.“I wanted to fix everything for you,” he said finally, his voice hoarse, like it had been dragged across a battlefield. “I wanted to give you a life that didn’t hurt.”I closed my eyes. The ache in my chest pulsed with every beat of my heart. “You did,” I said. “For a while, you did.”I heard the crunch
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m not the same person I was before,” I said, my voice firm, unwavering. “And I’m not walking away this time.”The man’s eyes flickered with a moment of doubt, just enough for me to catch. And then, before I could even register what had happened, Leon moved.Faster than I could blink, Leon was in front of me, his hand grabbing the gun and twisting it out of the man’s grasp. The force of it sent the man stumbling back, but he didn’t go down easily. His bodyguards rushed in, but Leon was already a step ahead, disarming one of them with a swift, calculated move.I stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what I was witnessing. Leon—always so calm, always so careful—was ruthless. He was like a force of nature, determined to protect me at all costs.But the fight wasn’t over yet. The man recovered, his eyes burning with rage. “You really think you’ve won?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re nothing but a pawn in a game you can’t ev
The sound of boots drew closer, pounding the floor with an urgency that echoed through the cavernous halls of the estate. My heart raced as the reality of what I had just heard crashed into me like a tidal wave. The man who had once been a part of my life—my family’s betrayer, the one who had orchestrated their deaths—stood there, calmly, as if this was just another night for him.Leon’s grip on my hand tightened, but I didn’t let him pull me away. I could feel the air thickening with tension, the walls pressing in as everything I thought I knew began to crumble.The intruders were only moments away.The man—he—smirked, watching us. “You think this will end well? You’ve no idea what you’re up against. My people are everywhere.”I took a step forward, ignoring Leon’s silent plea to retreat. “You killed them. And you thought I would be the next one to fall in line?” My voice was a whisper, but it held a power I hadn’t realized I had. “You were wrong.”The man’s face faltered, just for a
Next Morning at the Estate Archives. The basement was cold and damp, and the air smelled of mildew and secrets. Old boxes lined the walls, labeled in my father’s tidy script. Financial records. Land deeds. Correspondence.Leon sifted through a crate of documents while I dug through another.Then something caught my eye.A faded folder labeled: Project Thornfield.I opened it slowly.Inside were blueprints—plans for development across coastal land that was supposed to be protected forest. There were signatures from multiple board members, including names I recognized.And then, one I didn’t.N. Vallis.Leon leaned over. “You know that name?”I shook my head. “No. But look here—he signed off on the project two weeks before my parents died.”Leon pulled out his phone. “I’ll run a background check.”I kept flipping through the documents—and found something that made my blood run cold.An aerial photo.Of the cliffside. Our property.With a giant red X drawn over the coordinates where my p
THREE WEEKS LATER...The investigation moved faster than I’d expected. With the board fully on our side now, the paper trail unraveled like a thread pulled from an old sweater—each piece of evidence exposing the next. Shell companies. Forged contracts. Witnesses who had remained silent out of fear but were finally coming forward.Still, no one had seen him since the day of the summit. He had vanished without a trace. No flights. No offshore activity. No messages. It was like he’d disappeared into smoke.But Dorian didn’t believe in ghosts. “He’s hiding,” he said as he handed me a thick folder. “And this—this will force him out.”I flipped through the documents. Bank records. A property registered under an alias. Hidden deep in the woods outside of Anacortes. I felt my stomach twist.Leon stepped up behind me, his hand grazing my shoulder. “Let’s pay him a visit.”The cabin was barely more than a shadow tucked between trees. No lights. No car. Just silence and the thrum of insects in t
Sunlight crept cautiously through the cracks in the blinds, casting golden slivers across the hardwood floor of the safe house bedroom. I sat curled up on the edge of the bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders and the journal heavy in my lap. The cover was cracked, worn with age and secrets. My fingers hovered over the first page for what felt like an eternity.Leon was nearby—he hadn’t slept much, either. He stood at the window with a mug of black coffee, watching the world outside with quiet alertness. When I finally opened the journal, he turned slightly but didn’t speak. He knew I needed silence for this.The first entry was dated nearly two decades ago.July 14th. We signed the contract today. Two families, one future. The woman from Delmar Holdings is more cunning than I expected. She knows we’re desperate—and she used it. I told Mariana to trust me. That this was the only way. God help me, I hope I’m right.My breath hitched. Mariana—that was my mother’s name.I flipped thro
MARGARETTE'S POVBefore we could react, the door behind us burst open.Three armed men rushed in, dressed in black, their movements precise and rehearsed. Leon shoved me behind him, drawing his gun up in an instant. Dorian, who had been lingering near the entrance, took cover behind a cabinet, gun already out.“Elise’s father wasn’t bluffing,” I breathed, my heart hammering. “He had backup ready.”Leon fired the first shot, catching one of the intruders in the shoulder and sending him crashing to the floor. Chaos erupted. Dorian ducked low and returned fire, narrowly missing another attacker who retaliated with a spray of bullets that shattered the windows.I crouched behind an overturned table, the sound of gunfire drowning out my thoughts. The locket in my palm dug into my skin, its edges sharp—a painful reminder that I couldn’t afford to lose control now.“Elise’s father!” I shouted to Leon. “He’s escaping!”Through the haze of smoke and broken glass, I saw the man slinking toward
The sound of footsteps pounding in the hallway was the last thing I heard before the door slammed open.I barely had time to react before a rush of armed men poured into the room, their eyes scanning every corner, landing finally on me. There was no mistaking the intent behind their cold stares.“Get down!” Leon’s voice crackled through the earpiece again, but there was no time to obey. I couldn’t allow myself to hesitate—not now, not when the truth was within reach.I raised my gun, my hands steady despite the chaos unfolding around me. I wasn’t going down without a fight, not after everything I had lost. Not after everything Elise’s father had taken from me.Before the first man could react, I fired. The sound of the shot echoed in the confined space, the bullet finding its mark in the man’s chest. His body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, but the others didn’t hesitate. They moved in faster, their guns drawn, but I was ready.I ducked behind the desk, using it as cover
Dawn came in silver slivers through the cracks in the window. I hadn’t slept—not really. My mind was too loud, looping the footage over and over like a broken reel.Leon sat across from me at the table, sipping his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Neither of us had said much since the footage. We didn’t need to. The truth had cut so deep, it didn’t leave room for small talk.But I had questions.And I needed answers.“How long do you think he’s known I survived?” I finally asked, voice hoarse.Leon didn’t look away from his mug. “Long enough to start covering his tracks. But he didn’t expect the locket to resurface.”My hand instinctively reached for it. The locket was warm now, like it had absorbed my grief and fury. Inside was a picture of my mother and me—her arm around my tiny shoulders, her smile soft but tired. A photo I hadn’t even remembered until last night.“He killed her,” I whispered. “He killed my father. For what? A project?”“Not just a project,”