Chapter 14.

Melinda stood in front of the nondescript address the message had led her to an old warehouse tucked behind the rusted edge of the city’s forgotten district. No cameras, no streetlights, and no witnesses.

She checked her phone again.

8:03 PM.

Another message blinked on screen.

"You're late. Come to the back entrance. Alone."

She swallowed hard and pulled her coat tighter around her. The darkness behind the building felt alive, the kind that clung to your skin and whispered threats in your ear. But she kept going. She had to.

When she rounded the corner, a figure emerged from the shadows hooded, tall, male. But he didn’t move like someone who wanted to hurt her. He moved like someone who had been waiting.

“You came,” he said.

His voice was muffled but familiar. Her hand tightened around the pepper spray in her pocket, just in case.

“Who are you?” she asked, keeping her distance.

The man pulled his hood back slowly, revealing a face she hadn’t seen in years. Her knees nearly buckled.

“Noah?”

He gave a small nod, his jaw clenched. “Been a while.”

Noah. Her childhood friend. The boy who had disappeared without a word after her father’s funeral. The one person she once thought would never abandon her.

“What the hell how are you?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” he cut in. “I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” she echoed. “By disappearing?”

“Melinda,” he said, stepping forward. “Everything that’s happening to you now… James, Andrew, your mother’s death none of it was coincidence. They’ve been watching you for years. I found out too much, and I had to vanish.”

She blinked. “You think this is a game? You think you can vanish, reappear, and dump conspiracy theories on me like this?”

He handed her a folder worn, weathered, filled with documents and photos. Names. Transaction slips. Hidden property deeds.

And then she saw it.

James’ signature.

Attached to a transaction that happened a year before they ever met.

“What is this?” she whispered.

“It’s proof,” Noah said. “James knew who you were long before he ever laid eyes on you in that office.”

Her breath caught.

“No,” she said. “No, James he’s arrogant, possessive, maybe even manipulative. But he wouldn’t he couldn’t ”

“He’s not who you think he is,” Noah interrupted. “He’s been working with the same people Andrew did. And Andrew? He’s not as dead as everyone thinks.”

The world spun beneath her feet.

“What did you just say?” she choked.

Noah looked her square in the eye.

“I think Andrew faked his death. And I think James helped him do it.”

Melinda staggered back, the folder slipping from her fingers, scattering papers across the cold pavement. Her pulse throbbed in her ears, drowning out Noah’s words.

“I I saw the coffin,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I went to the funeral. I buried him.”

Noah crouched to gather the papers. “The body was never verified. Just a closed casket and a lot of orchestrated grief. You were grieving so hard, you didn’t question a thing. They counted on that.”

She could barely breathe. Her thoughts spiraled, crashing into memories she had buried long ago Andrew’s charm, his fake promises, his manipulations. And James. Mysterious, magnetic James.

The man who had promised to protect her. To fight for her.

But if what Noah said was true…

“I need proof,” she said hoarsely. “I can’t just accuse James without ”

Noah pulled a small flash drive from his coat. “There’s a video on here. From a hidden feed I tapped. You’ll want to watch it alone. But not tonight.”

Her hands trembled as she took the drive. “Why not?”

“Because James has someone watching your apartment. If he sees you this shaken, he’ll know something’s changed. You have to act normal.”

Melinda stared at him. “And what do you want from me? After all this time.”

He looked at her really looked and for a second, she saw the boy who once picked flowers with her in the old field behind her father’s estate.

“I want to make this right,” he said. “I should’ve told you years ago. But now? You're deeper than ever. And I’m not letting them take you too.”

Before she could reply, Noah was already backing away, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost.

She returned home in a daze, forcing herself to smile at the doorman, walk calmly through the lobby, and ignore the black SUV parked across the street. The moment her door shut behind her, she collapsed against it.

James was in the shower, humming softly unaware of the earthquake that had just ruptured the ground beneath her feet.

She slid the flash drive into her purse and quietly made her way to the guest bedroom. Her heart raced as she stared at the closed door, listening to the sound of water, his voice, his nearness.

Could it be true? Could he really have known her before their “accidental” meeting? Could he have lied about everything?

She didn’t want to believe it. But her gut twisted with unease.

Later that night, when James wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close in bed, she pretended to be asleep.

But her mind was wide awake.

Plotting.

Watching.

Waiting.

Because if James was hiding something…

She’d find it.

And if Andrew was still alive?

Then the real war was just beginning.