CHAPTER SIX The Breach

Valerie did not ask questions. She moved.

The moment Vivian spoke the words, something ancient and feral woke inside Valerie’s chest. The air seemed to thin. Her mind snapped into clarity with brutal precision.

Where, Valerie demanded.

Vivian swallowed hard. The penthouse. The east service entrance. Security intercepted them before they got in. But Valerie… they knew your name.

Ethan was already reaching for his jacket.

We are going. Now.

Valerie turned on him sharply. No.

His gaze held hers without yielding. This is no longer about your pride.

Her eyes flashed. You do not give me orders.

I do when your life is being threatened.

The room vibrated with tension. Vivian stood between them, breathing unevenly, hands clenched so tightly her knuckles had gone white.

Valerie, Vivian whispered. Please.

That single word cut deeper than any argument. Valerie looked at her sister and saw it. The fear. Not corporate panic. Not public image anxiety. Real fear. The kind rooted in memory.

Fine, Valerie said coldly. We go. But I lead.

They moved fast.

The elevator ride was silent except for the steady hum of descent and the frantic beat of Valerie’s heart. Her thoughts raced ahead of her body, leaping through shadows and possibilities.

Someone knew.

Someone had followed the trail back to her.

Someone wanted her past exposed. Or her silenced.

Vivian stood rigid beside her, lips pressed together. Ethan watched them both, his jaw set, eyes sharp and alert.

When the elevator doors opened to the underground garage, Ethan placed a hand on Valerie’s arm.

Wait.

She shook him off instantly. Do not touch me.

He did not retreat. He stepped closer instead, lowering his voice. If this is connected to what I think it is, you need to hear me.

She met his gaze, fury simmering beneath her composure. You have already told me too much and not enough.

Then listen now, he said quietly. Whoever came to your penthouse is not after money. They are after silence.

Vivian flinched.

Valerie’s breath hitched but her face remained carved from stone. We will discuss this after I see my home.

They reached the penthouse thirty minutes later.

The door stood open.

Not forced. Not broken. Simply open.

Security stood inside, tense, alert. One of them straightened when Valerie entered.

Ms Kings. We stopped them before they reached the main living area. Two individuals. Both male. They ran when confronted.

Any identification.

None. They wore gloves. No prints. Cameras were disabled.

Valerie walked in slowly. Every step echoed too loudly. The penthouse that had always been her fortress now felt violated. The silence felt wrong.

Vivian hovered near the door, eyes darting, breath shallow.

Valerie moved through the space. Living room untouched. Kitchen pristine. Bedroom undisturbed.

Then she stopped.

Her office.

The door was ajar.

She stepped inside.

The room smelled faintly of unfamiliar cologne. Her desk drawer was open. Papers scattered. Her locked cabinet stood wide, the digital lock cracked.

Her breath left her lungs in a slow, controlled exhale.

They had not taken valuables.

They had taken documents.

Ethan stepped in behind her. What was in the cabinet.

Valerie did not answer immediately. Her fingers brushed the edge of the drawer where the photograph had been placed earlier.

Everything about my childhood.

Vivian’s knees nearly buckled. Valerie caught her just in time.

Sit, she ordered, guiding her sister to the couch.

Vivian pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes shining with unshed tears. They are coming back, aren’t they.

Valerie knelt in front of her. No one is coming for you.

Vivian shook her head. They always come back.

Ethan watched the exchange silently. His chest tightened. He recognized the signs. Trauma never faded. It waited.

Valerie stood slowly.

She turned to him.

Start talking.

Ethan did not hesitate.

Your father was not just a jealous husband, he said. He was involved in financial laundering. Corporate espionage. He used relationships as leverage. When your mother threatened divorce, he panicked.

Valerie’s throat tightened.

The woman he brought into the house was not just a mistress. She was connected to a group that cleaned money and erased problems.

Vivian’s breath caught in a soft sound.

When your mother died, Ethan continued, the incident was staged as domestic tragedy. But people were paid to make sure it stayed buried. Those people are still alive.

Valerie’s nails dug into her palm.

And now, she said slowly, someone wants to unbury it.

Ethan nodded. Someone who believes you know more than you ever admitted.

Vivian’s voice trembled. She does not speak about it because she cannot.

Ethan’s gaze softened. I know.

Valerie stiffened. How.

Because, Ethan said quietly, I saw the recording.

The room went still.

Valerie stared at him. The world tilted.

That is impossible, she said.

He met her eyes. The device your sister hid. The recording she never destroyed. It was copied years ago during an evidence sweep that was never reported.

Vivian sobbed quietly.

Valerie’s heart thundered. Rage. Grief. Fear collided violently.

You have known this the entire time.

Yes.

And you waited.

I waited because I was trying to protect you.

Her voice cracked. You do not get to decide that.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Security stiffened.

One of the men stepped forward. Ms Kings. There is something else.

He held out a phone.

It was ringing.

Unknown number.

Valerie took it.

She put it to her ear.

Hello.

A distorted voice answered.

You should not have kept the recording.

Her blood ran cold.

Who is this.

Someone who wants to finish what your father started.

Ethan moved closer. Valerie held up a hand to stop him.

You broke into my home, Valerie said calmly. That was a mistake.

A low laugh crackled through the speaker. Your home was never safe. Neither was your silence.

Vivian whimpered.

The voice continued. You have forty eight hours to turn over everything you have. The recording. The documents. The truth.

And if I refuse.

Then the next visit will not stop at the door.

The line went dead.

The phone slipped from Valerie’s fingers.

Ethan caught it before it hit the floor.

This is escalating, he said. We need to move you somewhere secure.

Valerie straightened. Her fear hardened into steel.

No.

Vivian looked at her in horror. Valerie, they know where you live.

Good, Valerie said coldly. Then they will come to me.

Ethan grabbed her wrist. That is reckless.

She yanked free. That is strategy.

You are not bait, he snapped.

Her eyes met his. Dark. Unyielding.

I have been hunted since I was a child. I am done running.

Silence fell between them.

Ethan searched her face and saw it. Not bravado. Not denial. Resolve.

Then let me stand with you, he said.

Valerie hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then she nodded once.

A notification chimed on her tablet.

New message.

One image attached.

She opened it.

Her breath left her lungs.

It was the recording.

Paused.

With a caption beneath it.

We know what she saw.

Vivian screamed.

Valerie closed the tablet slowly.

Her voice was deadly calm.

They have crossed the line.

And somewhere across the city, a figure watched the feed update and smiled.

Because the game had finally begun.