Chapter Thirty-Eight: Trust Me Once

The whisper refused to leave my mind.

Don't trust Ronan.

I kept walking.

One step.

Then another.

The emergency stairwell echoed with our footsteps as we descended toward the shareholder vault.

No one spoke for nearly a minute.

Marcus wasn't with us.

Inspector Voss had taken him to secure the boardroom records.

Now it was only four of us.

Ronan.

Daniel.

Mr. Rowan.

Me.

I could feel Ronan watching me.

Not suspiciously.

Patiently.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"Someone said something."

It wasn't a question.

I looked at him.

"What makes you think that?"

"You looked at me differently."

Daniel quietly glanced between us but wisely stayed silent.

Mr. Rowan did the same.

I considered lying.

Instead...

"Someone whispered."

Ronan waited.

"They told me not to trust you."

Silence.

Not awkward.

Heavy.

Ronan didn't look offended.

He almost looked... unsurprised.

"What did you tell them?"

"I didn't answer."

"You should have."

His response caught me off guard.

"What?"

"You should've asked why."

I frowned.

"And if they answered?"

"I'd know what lie they chose."

We resumed walking.

The conversation wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

"You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not."

"Why?"

"Because if I wanted to destroy you..."

He looked straight ahead.

"...I'd start by making you doubt the only person standing beside you."

The words settled inside me.

Simple.

Logical.

Dangerously true.

Daniel finally spoke.

"He's right."

I looked at him.

"The Vanguard used that tactic."

"What tactic?"

"They never attacked partnerships."

"They attacked trust."

He looked down the dark stairwell.

"If two people stopped believing each other..."

"They did the rest themselves."

Another piece of the puzzle.

Another reminder that every move against us had been psychological as much as physical.

We reached the forty-sixth floor.

The fire door opened into a service corridor running behind the executive banking suite.

Unlike the rest of the building, this hallway was completely dark.

No emergency lighting.

No alarms.

Only silence.

Mr. Rowan stopped immediately.

"Something's wrong."

Ronan crouched near the floor.

"What do you see?"

"No dust."

I blinked.

"What?"

"Maintenance corridors collect dust."

He swept his flashlight across the polished concrete.

The floor was spotless.

Someone had cleaned it.

Recently.

Daniel slowly removed his pistol.

"They've been waiting."

A faint metallic click echoed somewhere ahead.

Not loud.

Just enough.

Ronan instantly grabbed my shoulder.

"Down!"

I dropped without thinking.

The corridor exploded with gunfire.

Bullets tore through the wall where my head had been less than a second earlier.

Concrete sprayed across the hallway.

Daniel fired once toward the muzzle flashes.

The attackers immediately fell back.

"Move!"

We sprinted toward a steel maintenance door.

Another burst of gunfire followed us.

One bullet struck the pipe above our heads.

Water erupted into the corridor.

Steam filled the air.

Visibility vanished.

Perfect.

Ronan grabbed my wrist.

"This way!"

"I can't see!"

"You don't need to."

His grip never loosened.

He pulled me through the white cloud with complete confidence.

Behind us, boots splashed through the flooding corridor.

"They're following!"

Daniel shouted.

Mr. Rowan slammed another maintenance door behind us.

Heavy bolts engaged automatically.

Three impacts shook the metal.

Then four.

The attackers had reached it.

"They'll get through," Daniel said.

"They're professionals."

Ronan was already studying the room.

An old electrical maintenance station.

Generator controls.

Emergency building schematics.

My eyes stopped on the wall.

A blueprint of Silverfang Tower.

Every floor.

Every maintenance shaft.

Every hidden utility route.

Except...

Someone had circled one location in fresh red ink.

Level Forty-Six.

Our position.

"They knew we'd come here," I whispered.

"No," Ronan replied.

He pointed to another circle.

Then another.

Level Forty-Eight.

The boardroom.

Level Fifty.

My office.

Three circles.

Three targets.

"They're hunting us."

Mr. Rowan shook his head.

"Worse."

He pointed to the center of the blueprint.

"They're herding us."

The realization struck all of us at once.

Every escape route.

Every attack.

Every locked corridor.

Someone wasn't trying to kill us.

Someone was forcing us toward one specific place inside the building.

The phone inside the maintenance room suddenly rang.

An old rotary telephone.

One that shouldn't have been connected to anything.

No one moved.

It rang again.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Ronan looked at me.

"This one's for you."

I slowly lifted the receiver.

Before I could speak, my father's voice filled the line.

Clear.

Urgent.

Real.

"Adrian."

Every muscle in my body froze.

"Listen to me carefully."

I couldn't breathe.

"Father?"

"You have less than ten minutes."

His voice was strained, as though he were running.

"They're trying to force you into the shareholder vault."

I looked at Ronan.

He'd already guessed as much.

My father continued.

"Don't go inside."

The line crackled.

"No matter what happens..."

Another burst of interference.

"...don't let them close the door."

A loud crash echoed somewhere behind him.

Then another voice shouted.

"Sebastian!"

My father's breathing became ragged.

"They found me."

The line filled with static.

"Father!"

Only one sentence made it through before the connection died.

Three words that turned everything we thought we knew upside down.

Hale was right.