Chapter Four: Footage

The office was silent except for the low hum of the monitor and the scratchy playback of the grainy video.

Ava stood frozen, eyes locked on the screen.

There she was.

Younger. Barely eighteen.

Tears streaked her face as she looked into the camera like someone was forcing her to speak.

“I didn’t know,” her younger self whispered. “I didn’t know it would happen. I just said it was part of the program”

The sound is distorted. A loud click, then static.

Then another voice cut in.

Male. Calm. Measured.

“You’ll forget this ever happened. It’s not your business anymore.”

The video cut to black.

Ava’s hands went cold.

“What the hell was that?”

Luca didn’t answer.

He stood still, his jaw locked, eyes dark.

“You recognized that voice,” she said, stepping toward him.

He didn’t speak.

“Luca,” she pushed, “who was that?”

He didn’t look at her. “My father.”

Ava blinked. “What?”

“That voice,” he said, his tone low and even, “was Gabriel Hart.”

“As in”

“Yes. The founder of Hart & Co. The man who built the empire I run now.”

Ava stared at the blank screen. “Your father was in that video talking to me?”

“You were just a kid,” Luca said. “And he” He broke off, looking away. “He did a lot of things that don’t belong on record.”

Ava’s mind raced. “What was he talking about? What did I not know?”

Luca ran a hand through his hair, and for the first time, she saw itreal hesitation. Not calculated. Not cool. But shaken.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But whatever happened that night you weren’t supposed to remember. Someone made sure of it.”

Ava’s knees almost buckled. She sat down slowly in her desk chair.

“Why me?” she asked quietly. “Why would your father care about some teenage volunteer at a charity event?”

Luca didn’t answer.

Not because he didn’t want to.

Because he didn’t know.

But something deep in his gut told him this wasn’t random. Ava had been dragged into the orbit of a powerful man who never left loose ends. And now, years later, someone was tearing that history open like an old wound.

“I’m going to find out what he did,” Luca said. “And why were you there? Every record. Every file. He had secret contracts, payments, and off-the-books operations. I’ll find them.”

Ava looked up at him. “And if what we find changes everything?”

He didn’t blink. “Then it does.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “And you? What happens when your family name is tied to something criminal? Something that involved me?”

Luca took a step forward. “I don’t care about the name. I care about you.”

The words hit hard so sudden, so raw she almost flinched.

“I didn’t choose any of this,” she said. “And now it’s like someone ripped a hole in my life, and I’m the only one who didn’t know it was already bleeding.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But you’re not alone in this.”

She stared up at him, breathing hard.

“Then prove it.”

He looked at her for a long moment. Then nodded once. “I will.”

Back at the penthouse later that night, Luca received a private file.

Encrypted. Anonymous.

Inside: a folder labeled “Sinclair Classified Access Only.”

He clicked it open.

The first document was a medical record.

The second was a payment.

The third signed an NDA.

All are linked to Ava’s mother.

And one signature at the bottom of every file:

Gabriel Hart.

Luca stared at the files on his screen, hands still, breath slow.

Sinclair  Classified Access Only.

His encryption team had managed to scrape this from one of his father’s off-grid servers, buried under layers of dummy corporations and firewall traps. Gabriel Hart had made a career out of building things no one could traceand now it was unraveling.

He opened the medical file first.

Patient: Naomi Sinclair

Date: April 9th, 2006

Facility: Hart Private Wellness Center

Status: Confidential Treatment Admission – Psychiatric Observation

Notes: Condition tied to trauma involving minor. Further details under NDA.

Luca’s stomach turned.

He opened the next file.

Transaction Record

Recipient: Naomi Sinclair

Amount: $300,000

Memo: Program Closure – Final Compensation

And then the last file NDA.

Signed by: Gabriel Hart

Signed by: Naomi Sinclair

Effective: Immediate

There was no mention of Ava. But the timeline lined up. And so did the location.

He leaned back slowly, mind spinning.

Her mother had been paid to keep quiet about something.

Something that happened when Ava was just a teenager on Hart's property.

And whatever it was, it was buried under money, silence, and fear.

Across the apartment, Ava stared out over the city skyline. Her mind hadn’t slowed since the moment she saw her younger self on that screen. She could still hear her voice cracked, scared, like someone had taken all the strength she now carried and crushed it out of her.

But she couldn’t remember it.

Why couldn’t she remember it?

And why did Luca look like he was holding a landmine behind his eyes?

She turned when she heard him step into the room.

“You look like someone just pulled the floor out from under you,” she said.

He didn’t speak right away. Just stood there, conflicted.

“You found something,” she said, watching him.

“I did.”

“And?”

He hesitated. That hesitation told her everything.

“Say it,” she said.

Luca exhaled. “Your mother signed an NDA with my father. Seventeen years ago.”

Ava’s breath caught.

“No.”

“I don’t know what it was about yet,” he continued. “But she received a large payout. It was labeled as compensation tied to a program likely involving minors. The same kind your after-school group would’ve been part of.”

Ava sank into the nearest chair, her legs suddenly too weak to support her.

“My mom never told me. She never told me anything about that time.”

“She couldn’t,” Luca said quietly. “She signed her silence away.”

Ava’s throat felt tight. “She knew something happened. And she kept it from me.”

“She thought she was protecting you.”

“No,” Ava whispered. “She was protecting herself. Or maybe both of us. But now I don’t even know what I’m trying to remember.”

The silence between them thickened. Ava didn’t look up.

Thensoftlyshe asked, “Did your father hurt me?”

Luca flinched. Not visibly. But enough.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I’m going to find out.”

Behind them, Luca’s phone buzzed with a new message.

Another anonymous file.

No text. No greeting. Just a video.

He tapped it.

A new image appeared:

A hospital room.

A young girl restrained.

A nurse speaking quietly off camera:

“She’s starting to forget.”

Then the girl turned her head toward the lens

And it was Ava.

Eyes wide.

Silent.

Already fading.

Luca’s grip tightened around the phone as the video ended.

Ava. Younger. Silent. Strapped to a hospital bed like she was something to contain, not comfort.

His blood ran cold.

Whoever was behind this wasn’t just unearthing the past, they were weaponizing it.

He backed out of the video, saved a secure copy to his private server, and crossed the apartment toward Ava, who still hadn’t moved from the chair.

She didn’t look up. She was staring at the skyline like the lights outside might give her answers she couldn’t find inside herself.

“Ava,” he said gently.

She turned. “You found more.”

He gave a short nod, then crouched in front of her so they were eye to eye.

“I have to show you something,” he said, “but only if you’re sure you want to see it.”

“Luca.” Her voice was steel under glass. “Don’t protect me. Not now.”

He unlocked the phone and handed it to her.

The moment the video started, she didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Her younger self blinked slowly on the screen. The girl looked confused, scared, and sedated. A nurse’s voice echoed off-camera, talking about memory loss like it was no bigger than a prescription refill.

Ava’s face went pale.

“That’s that’s me.”

She didn’t recognize the room. She didn’t remember the restraints. But she knew that face. That blank, dazed version of herself.

“I was drugged,” she whispered.

Luca nodded. “Someone wanted you to forget something. Whatever happened back then it wasn’t just wrong. It was dangerous.”

Ava sat in silence, trying to slow the spiral in her chest. Her thoughts felt slippery like she was chasing shadows inside her mind.

“Do you know what this means?” she asked finally.

“Yes,” Luca said. “It means this goes deeper than either of us thought.”

“No,” she said quietly. “It means someone didn’t just hide the truth from me.”

She looked up at him.

“They took it.”

The apartment was still. Luca wanted to say something but for once, there was nothing he could offer that didn’t sound hollow.

Ava stood slowly, walking to the window again. Her reflection stared backolder, stronger, angrier.

“I need to talk to my mother,” she said.

“She signed an NDA. She may not be able to”

“She will,” Ava snapped. “Because this is about me.”

Luca stepped forward. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

Ava turned. “Then come with me.”

Outside, on the balcony of the next building over, a shadow moved.

Someone stood in the dark, watching through a scope.

Phone to ear.

“Target is reacting. Subject Hart is involved. We move to phase two.”

A pause.

Then

“Activate the mother.”

Luca’s jaw tightened as he watched her pace the room, fire starting to edge out the fear in her.

He’d seen her sharp before. I saw her challenge, push, resist. But this?

This was different.

Ava wasn’t just reacting.

She was preparing for war.

“Do you trust her?” Luca asked carefully.

Ava looked at him. “My mom?”

He nodded.

Ava hesitated. “She raised me alone. Sacrificed everything. But there were always blanks. Gaps in stories. Memories that felt off. She was protective. But sometimes too much. I never knew why.”

She rubbed her arms like a chill had crept under her skin.

“And now I’m starting to think it wasn’t just overprotection,” she said. “It was guilt.”

Luca took a slow step closer. “Then it’s time to ask her what she’s been hiding.”

Ava turned to face him, expression firm. “No more half-truths. No more protecting me from the past. I need everything. Raw. Unfiltered.”

He nodded. “Then we go in prepared.”

“For what?”

He looked at her without blinking.

“For answers that hurt.”

She met his gaze. “I’d rather hurt with the truth than live with someone else’s lie.”

Luca reached for his coat. Ava grabbed her bag.

The air between them had shifted again not as enemies, not as allies, but as two people suddenly tied together by a past neither of them fully understood.

As they stepped into the elevator, Ava’s phone buzzed again.

A single word on the screen:

“Ready?”

She didn’t answer.

She just looked at Luca.

And he nodded.