CHAPTER FIVE: THE MAN WHO DIDN’T LOOK AWAY

DAMIAN:

The final signature scratched across the paper, and I stood. The handshake that followed felt unnecessary.

I never shook hands for respect. I shook for results. And the result was done.

The boardroom filled with laughter and self-congratulations. Champagne was being poured like it was some royal coronation. I brushed past it all. My goal was simple, get out of the suit and out of the building.

“Mr. Cole,” my assistant Thomas trailed behind, breathless, “the press is waiting.”

“Email,” I said, not breaking stride.

I reached the elevator, hit the button, and stepped in when the doors glided open. I pressed G for ground floor.

But before I descended, I pressed 35.

I had one more stop.

The 35th floor housed the Data Forensics Unit. They had been working on something sensitive, a breach simulation tool for our Dubai division. It wasn’t the kind of file I trusted anyone else to pick up. No transfers. No downloads. Just a physical copy in a sealed case.

I would rather waste five minutes than risk five billion dollars.

When the elevator stopped at 35, I stepped out, received the briefcase from the secure vault, nodded once at the manager, who looked terrified to speak and headed back.

I pressed the elevator again.

The doors opened.

And I saw her.

She looked like a ghost from a horror movie.

Worse up close.

Eyes bloodshot. Makeup ruined. Dress wrinkled. Zipper halfway down her back. She looked like she hadn’t changed clothes or slept in days. Her body trembled as she clutched a phone like it was her lifeline.

Her presence offended me.

In my building, image mattered. Presentation mattered. I spent millions making sure the brand was perfect, organized, and professional and here she was, looking like she crawled out of a grave.

I stepped inside the elevator.

She pressed herself into the farthest corner, avoiding my eyes.

Still, I spoke.

“Are you a worker here?” My voice stayed even. Cold. “Tears aren’t allowed in this building.”

She didn’t respond. Just sniffled and wiped at her face like it would make a difference.

We reached the lobby.

She rushed out like the elevator doors had been choking her.

Good.

I was about to exit the elevator, head home, when my watch buzzed.

It was a message from Thomas:

“We need your override on the Dubai cybersecurity log. You took the physical, but the internal timestamp wasn’t logged. Please come back.”

I sighed. Always something.

I pressed the button again. The elevator doors closed.

But there lying on the floor was a phone.

I bent down and picked it up.

Probably hers.

I didn’t care. She could come back for it.

Immediately a message notification flashed and with it, the lock screen lit up.

It was her in the screen image.

Smiling beside a man.

Liam.

It took me a moment to recognize him.

Mid-level developer in our Tech Division. Not someone I interacted with directly. Talented, sure but not near executive level. Not in my line of sight unless there was a crisis.

He was on wedding leave. I remembered the email notification.

So… they were together?

Or they had been?

Didn’t matter.

I slid the phone into my pocket.

I got back to the top floor, handed off the briefcase again, signed the digital override, nodded at the still-nervous manager, and made my way to the parking lot.

I tossed my jacket into the back seat of my Porsche and placed the phone beside it.

I should’ve dropped it off with security.

But I didn’t.

Too much effort for a stranger.

Besides, Liam worked here. He would figure it out.

I started the engine and took the bridge route home. Less traffic. More quiet.

But halfway across, I slammed the brakes.

Because I saw her.

Standing on the edge of the slab, dress whipping in the wind. No shoes. Arms slightly open.

I could’ve kept driving.

Let her fall. Let her be a statistic.

The world was loud. Loud enough to kill people like her.

And honestly, I understood.

It suffocated you until silence seemed like mercy.

I glanced at the phone on my seat.

It would take more time to explain to the police how I ended up with it after her death than to just stop her.

I got out and sprinted.

“Hey!” I shouted.

She didn’t look.

She started to tip forward.

I ran faster.

Her foot slipped.

I grabbed her by the waist just in time, pulling her back hard against my chest. Her body fought me for a moment kicking, twisting, flailing.

“Let me go!” she sobbed and then collapsed.

I gently lowered her to the ground. Her breath was shallow. Her hands shook. Her lips moved as if forming words she didn’t have the strength to say.

Finally, her eyes fluttered open.

She saw me.

And barely whispered, “You… again?”

Then went still in my arms.