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Chapter 24

last update Huling Na-update: 2025-05-17 16:44:45

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Chapter 24: Movement along the alley

The morning air hung heavy, tinged with the scent of rain on concrete and the faint aroma of brewing coffee from a nearby café. Isla stood on the penthouse balcony, the city sprawled beneath her like a living, breathing entity. Her fingers gripped the cold metal railing, the chill seeping into her bones, grounding her.

Last night had unraveled truths she wasn't prepared for. Christopher's confession wasn't just a fracture—it was a seismic shift. The man she trusted had been a shadow in her past, watching, waiting. Yet, amidst the betrayal, a new clarity emerged.

She was done running.

From behind, footsteps approached, soft against the hardwood floor.

"You didn't sleep," Christopher's voice was low, hesitant.

"I couldn't," she replied, eyes fixed on the horizon.

He joined her, silence stretching between them, filled only by the distant hum of the city waking up.

"We need to end this," she said finally.

He nodded. "Victor won't go down without a fight."

"Then we'll give him one."

---

By midday, they were deep into planning. Christopher unearthed a file from his encrypted drive, labeled simply with her name. Inside, a web of deceit: shell companies, offshore accounts, names she recognized from her father's world.

"This is the leverage we need," Christopher said.

Isla scanned the documents, her mind racing. "No. This is the bait."

He looked at her, puzzled.

"We leak this, he retreats. But if we dangle it, he chases."

A slow smile spread across his face. "Desperate men make mistakes."

"Exactly."

---

Tracking down Marcus Ete was no small feat. But with Christopher's network—ex-military contacts, informants, and a hacker named Vi—they traced him to a secluded village in Belize.

The air was thick with humidity as they approached a weathered fishing boat docked at the edge of a sleepy harbor. Marcus looked up, eyes widening in recognition.

"You," he whispered.

Isla stepped forward. "We need to talk."

He hesitated, then nodded, leading them aboard.

Inside, over the creak of the boat and the distant call of seabirds, Marcus unraveled the past. "Your father discovered Victor's operations—smuggling, trafficking. He planned to expose him."

"And you?" Isla pressed.

"I was sent to silence him. But I couldn't. I fled."

"Do you have proof?"

He nodded. "Files. Hidden in a vault. You'll need my help to access them."

---

Back in the city, the evidence was damning. Detailed records of Victor's crimes, names, dates, transactions. Isla felt a mix of vindication and sorrow.

One file caught her eye—a girl, sixteen, vanished from the foster system. A casualty of Victor's empire.

"This isn't just about revenge," she murmured. "It's about justice."

---

Three days later, Victor called.

His image flickered on the screen, composed, smug.

"Isla. Christopher. I see you've been busy."

"We have what we need," Isla said calmly.

"Hand it over, and this ends."

She leaned in. "No. This ends when you're exposed."

His smile faded. "You're making a mistake."

"No," she replied. "You did."

---

That night, on the rooftop, the city lights shimmered below. Christopher joined her, offering a silent presence.

"I don't know if I can trust you," she said.

"I understand."

"But I need you."

He reached for her hand, their fingers intertwining.

They sat in silence, the weight of the coming storm pressing down. But for now, they had each other.

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