The address came through a single text.
An old industrial yard on the edge of the city, long abandoned, wrapped in rust and time. No street lights, no cameras. Just shadows and the faint hum of wind scraping across broken glass.
Siena stood in front of the warehouse gate, the air thick around her. Alexander had argued with her for half an hour about coming alone. But in the end, he let her go—with a small tracker tucked into the lining of her coat and a promise that he'd be watching from just far enough away.
She took a breath and pushed the gate open.
It groaned like it hadn't moved in years.
Inside, the warehouse was silent. Dust floated in streaks of dying light from the shattered skylights. Siena moved slowly, her boots echoing on the concrete.
Then a cough. Rough, strained.
A man stepped out from behind a rusted crate, coat-tattered, eyes sunken, skin pale.
Curtis Vale.
He looked like a man who hadn't slept in years.
"You came," he said, voice hoarse.
Siena nodded once. "You said you had answers."
He looked around nervously before motioning her forward. "We have to be quick. If they trace this—"
"I need the truth, Curtis," she cut in. "I don't care about the risk anymore."
Curtis held up a small hard drive. "This has everything. Copies of Dael's investigation with your father. Evidence of off-shore accounts. Documents Withers didn't want seen. Blackmail files. Names."
Siena took the drive, clutching it like it was made of gold.
Curtis wasn't finished.
"They were close. Your father and Dael. She respected him. And he trusted her more than most. That's why she helped him dig."
Siena's throat tightened. "What happened to her?"
Curtis glanced at the shadows. "She was getting close to something big. Something she wouldn't even put in writing. The last message I got from her was a warning—someone inside Hartline was leaking to Withers. Days later, she vanished."
Siena froze. "Someone inside?"
Curtis nodded grimly. "A name she mentioned once. Quietly. 'Elan'… or 'Elaine.' Something close to that."
A chill went down Siena's spine.
Elaine was her father's former executive assistant. She'd retired suddenly after his death, claiming stress and burnout. Siena had never questioned it.
Curtis moved closer. "Withers buried every trail. But he missed me. And I've been hiding ever since."
"You should go to the authorities," Siena said.
Curtis laughed bitterly. "I've tried. But someone always gets the message first. Do you think Trent Caldwell went down that easily? They let him."
Siena's blood ran cold.
Before she could respond, the warehouse filled with the sound of screeching tires.
Curtis grabbed her arm. "Run."
"No, we need to—"
"Run!"
She turned and bolted, just as two masked men stormed in from the side entrance. Curtis threw a metal rod at one of them, giving her a few seconds.
Siena sprinted for the door, heart in her throat.
Then—gunshot.
She flinched but kept running. Behind her, she heard a cry. Curtis had been hit.
She reached the gate and burst out into the open, where headlights blinded her.
The black SUV slammed to a stop.
Alexander jumped out before the engine even cooled, gun in hand.
"What happened?"
"They're inside," she gasped, clutching the hard drive. "Curtis—he's hit. We have to go!"
Alexander didn't hesitate. He motioned to his driver. "Call Reeve. Send backup. Now."
He wrapped an arm around Siena and pulled her into the vehicle.
"Hold on," he said as the SUV sped away.
---
Back at the penthouse, Siena sat trembling on the couch.
Alexander paced the room, phone to his ear, barking orders. "I want our full cyber team on that drive. Secure server. Air-gapped system. No cloud backup."
He hung up and knelt in front of her. "Are you okay?"
Siena nodded shakily. "He gave me everything. This… this could bring it all down."
Alexander gently took her hand. "Then we're going to finish what your father started."
She looked down at the drive. "Curtis said someone inside Hartline tipped Withers off years ago. The name sounded like Elaine."
Alexander frowned. "Elaine Hoster? The one who left after your dad died?"
Siena nodded. "We need to find her. She might be the missing link."
"Already on it," Alexander said. "Reeve's team picked her up in the system ten minutes ago. She's been living under a new name in a private condo in East Ridge."
Siena stood, steel returning to her spine. "Then we talk to her."
---
The next day, Siena and Alexander arrived at the East Ridge apartment.
The woman who opened the door was older, her hair dyed a bright auburn that didn't quite hide the gray. Her eyes widened when she saw Siena.
"I was wondering when you'd find me."
"You knew we'd come?" Siena asked, stepping inside.
Elaine closed the door quietly. "Your father was a good man. I failed him. I didn't want to, but I did."
Alexander remained near the door, watchful.
Siena moved closer. "You leaked information to Withers."
Elaine didn't deny it. She just nodded slowly. "I didn't know what he planned. Not at first. Harold made it sound like it was all internal. That Jonathan was losing control. That the board needed stability."
Siena's stomach twisted.
"By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. Your father was dead. Dael was missing. And I'd helped pave the way for it."
"Why did you leave?" Siena asked.
Elaine swallowed hard. "Because I couldn't live with it. And because someone sent me a message—a photo of my granddaughter's school. No note. Just the photo. I took the deal and disappeared."
Siena could hardly breathe.
Elaine looked at her with watery eyes. "I'm so sorry, Siena. I never meant for it to go this far."
Alexander stepped forward. "We need everything you have. Emails. Notes. Anything you kept."
Elaine nodded. "Give me an hour."
---
Back at Hartline, Siena stood in front of the board once again.
She didn't bring papers this time.
She brought the truth.
"Harold Withers orchestrated a cover-up that led to my father's death. He's behind Dael's disappearance. And for years, he's been using this company as a front for his empire."
She paused.
"No more."
She laid down the evidence—Curtis's drive, Elaine's statement, and financial records cross-verified by Alexander's cyber team.
The room was silent.
Then Granger stood. "I move that we terminate all contracts, consulting or otherwise, with Harold Withers immediately."
The board voted.
Unanimous.
---
That night, Siena stood on the rooftop of her penthouse with Alexander. The city stretched before them like a living map—streets, people, stories.
"Do you think this is over?" she asked quietly.
Alexander shook his head. "No. But we've lit the match."
She leaned into him.
"We've come so far," she whispered.
"And we're not done yet," he said, his voice steady. "But this time, we're not running. We're fighting back."
She looked up at him, eyes tired but resolute.
"Together?"
"Always."
The wind picked up, brushing hair across her face.
In the silence that followed, the city pulsed beneath them—and somewhere in the darkness, the man they hadn't yet seen was watching.
But they were ready now.
This time, they wouldn't be blindsided.
This time, they would burn the whole web down.