Chapter 29- Tightening the net

The tension at the office had only grown since the threat on my apartment door. I didn’t return home—I couldn’t. Every breath I took outside the safety of William’s company felt like it came with a target painted on my back. I was done ignoring the signs. Done pretending this was all coincidence. Someone was orchestrating this.

And the alias "ML" kept echoing through my thoughts like a warning bell.

After grabbing a large black coffee, I sat at my desk and opened the HR portal. I tried a few access routes to search for “ML” or anything close. Nothing. Access restricted. Clearance required. Even with the CEO’s secretary tag, I couldn’t see upper-executive alias records.

I shot a message to Nany.

L: I can’t get into the HR archives. Blocked.

N: Give me ten minutes.

She was in another department, but her tech guy friends had proven resourceful more than once. While I waited, I went through the company-wide mail logs—at least what I had access to. The phrase “AtlasPhoenix” kept coming up in hidden meta tags within internal drafts, attached to files as invisible signatures.

It wasn’t just Kevin. Someone else had tried to clean these traces, but they’d missed a few.

“Hey, Lily,” Samantha’s voice floated over like cheap perfume.

I didn’t look up. “Busy.”

“Mr. William said you were supposed to send the client portfolio to CrestTech this morning. It’s noon.”

My stomach flipped. “I sent that yesterday.”

Her lips curved smugly. “Maybe double-check. Wouldn’t want William to think you’re losing your touch.”

I reopened the sent folder—and froze.

The email was gone.

Completely.

I opened my backups. Nothing. I had encrypted backups for most of my emails, but somehow, this one thread was missing.

“You—” I turned toward her, but she was already sashaying away.

Five minutes later, I was summoned.

William stood at the head of the conference table, a room full of mid-level executives watching him. And me.

“I trusted my secretary to handle a time-sensitive client,” he said, voice sharp but emotionless. “CrestTech just called. Furious.”

Everyone’s eyes were on me.

My hands balled at my sides. “I sent the mail. I have no idea how it vanished.”

William’s gaze didn’t flicker. “From now on, you’ll submit all client communications through Legal. Understood?”

My jaw tightened. “Yes, sir.”

The room dismissed.

I turned to leave when I heard him murmur just low enough for me to hear, “You’re being tested. Don’t break.”

Back at my desk, a message blinked from Nany.

N: I pulled executive ID logs. ‘ML’ is a hidden alias. Shows up linked to internal bank transfers five months ago. Used sparingly. Used from an old system. Deleted after Selena’s death.

L: Who is it?

N: Can’t say yet. But it’s someone still working here.

The floor beneath my feet felt unstable. Someone powerful. Hidden. Watching.

Another message popped up seconds later from a private line.

“Still curious? Ask Selena. She knew too much. So do you.”

I stood up and walked directly to the women’s restroom. Locked the door. Pressed my back to the wall.

I couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t paranoia.

It was real.

That evening, Nany took me to an address on the edge of the city—an old building where Selena had once lived.

We bribed the security guard. He didn’t care—just waved us in.

Inside, the apartment was musty. Abandoned. Cobwebbed corners, dust layering the shelves. But the space was untouched. Like it was waiting.

I ran my fingers along the edges of a dresser drawer. Empty. Then I noticed a scratch beneath it—tiny, almost invisible. I pulled the drawer out completely, flipped it.

A notebook was taped to the bottom.

Nany looked over my shoulder as I peeled it open.

Pages of confusion, fear, anxiety. Scribbled thoughts. A few pages were torn out. The rest looked like Selena had started writing poetry and ended with desperate, fragmented lines.

“I thought he was my ally. But he was always watching.”

“ML doesn’t care. They never did.”

“He watched me die. He knew what would happen.”

A chill crept over my spine.

“Who was she talking about?” I whispered.

Nany gently took the book. “Maybe William. Maybe someone else. We need more.”

The next day, HR was buzzing.

An anonymous report was filed against me.

Misconduct. Insubordination. Data theft.

I stormed into William’s office without knocking.

He barely glanced up. “You’re going to ask me to reverse it?”

“No. I’m going to ask if you planted it.”

He finally looked at me. His stare wasn’t cold. It was... worn.

“I’m not your enemy, Lily.”

“Then who is?”

“I’m still figuring that out.”

His voice broke slightly on that last line.

Before I could reply, a loud chime echoed through the office—an emergency company-wide meeting was announced for next week. Location: The Grand Event Hall.

I exhaled.

The corporate event.