Chapter 12

The knock came at dawn, three sharp taps that rattled the hotel‑suite door.

Amy jolted awake, adrenaline burning away the last scraps of sleep. She opened the door a crack and found Bruce in the hallway, eyes bright, hair still damp from the shower.

“Package arrived,” he said. “Time to spring the trap.”

No coffee, no small talk.. just business. Amy liked that about him, even when it scared her.

Action moved fast. An hour later they sat in a borrowed office three floors below, the kind used for pop‑up war rooms and quiet takeovers. On the table lay a thin manila envelope. Inside: doctored financial statements Bruce's tech contact had whipped up overnight. They looked real.. enough to fool a bloodhound.

Bruce slid the pages toward the open laptop camera. “Our mole will pass these to Liam within the hour.”

Amy crossed her arms. “And you’ re sure the metadata points to only three people?”

“Positive.” He tapped the screen. “If it leaks, we trace the document signature. Whoever forwards it