MasukThe rain tapped quietly against the windowpane, but Alina's breath came in gasps. She sat upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat. The images wouldn't stop-Damian's voice, the kiss, Jesse's eyes full of pain, the box full of secrets. It all swirled in her dreams like smoke.She looked around the dim room, heart still pounding.The light from the study was still on.She rose slowly, wrapped in silence and guilt, and padded down the hall. Jesse sat by the window, head leaned back against the chair, eyes open, staring into the night like he was trying to see through it."You're not sleeping," she said softly.He looked at her, face unreadable. "Neither are you."Alina hesitated, then sat across from him. "Nightmares," she whispered. "Everything feels like it's falling apart."Jesse's voice was low. "It is. You just haven't accepted it yet."She blinked. "That's not fair."He turned to her, tired. "What isn't fair is loving someone who doesn't even know if she trusts you."Silence hung bet
London – Underground Vault, 03:00 A.M.The vault doors sealed with a hiss. Damian stood in front of an ancient server rig known only to four people in the world-two of whom were already dead.Selene entered without a word, handing him a biometric key. "Access is confirmed. The Black Channel is live.""Any trace of us?""Scrubbed and masked," she replied. "And the decoy files were delivered to the Reyes Foundation two hours ago. If she opens them...""She won't know what's real anymore," Damian finished with satisfaction.He stared at the interface. A dozen encrypted threads flickered to life, blinking like quiet landmines waiting to be stepped on."Let Jesse draw her close again," he said. "She still thinks he's hers. That makes him more dangerous than even I could be."Selene hesitated. "What if he flips? He's unpredictable."Damian turned to her, the cold certainty in his gaze making the air feel thinner."Everyone believes in the people they love-until the wire snaps."Somewhere on
London. Midnight.The top floor of the Vale Tower was a study in excess disguised as elegance. Italian marble, antique gold fixtures, oil paintings older than the building itself-but the tech running behind the walls was newer than the next quarter's future.Damian Vale stood alone, facing a digital display of market trends, security profiles, and strategic maps that looked more military than corporate.Behind him, the room slowly filled.His inner circle was small. Hand-picked. Unshakably loyal-or easily disposed of. Tonight, only three joined him: Selene-his chief of strategy, Kaito-former MI6 and current head of operations, and Luc Renard-a French media baron with a morally flexible empire."She's harder than expected," Selene said without preamble. "Even the press can't touch her without it backfiring.""Which is why," Damian said, not turning around, "we don't attack her. Not yet."Kaito frowned. "Then what's the next step?"Damian finally faced them, his expression smooth as gla
Day After the Terrace Incident7:41 AM – Jesse's Apartment, SouthbankThe espresso machine sputtered to life, but Jesse barely noticed. He was already at his desk, sleeves rolled up, a tablet glowing in front of him, lines of Damian Vale's digital footprint spreading like spiderwebs.Not much was sticking.Damian was frustratingly good at controlling his narrative. High-level corporate acquisitions, some well-orchestrated philanthropy, a trail of sanitized interviews-but behind that was something else. Something carefully omitted.Jesse tapped into old networks. Some MI6-adjacent, some messier.He didn't like what he wasn't finding.---9:02 AM – Encrypted Chat ServerA green dot pulsed next to a name he hadn't seen in years: Kairos.Jesse hesitated. His finger hovered.Then:> You still owe me one. Need info on Damian Vale. Quietly.Seconds passed.Then a reply blinked back:> That's a name I didn't expect to hear from you.Jesse frowned.> You know him?> Not directly. But I know wh
Jesse's fists clenched at his sides as he watched from the shadows. The kiss-he had expected a confrontation, not *that*. The knife of betrayal cut deeper than he'd imagined.Back at his car, the silence was deafening. He stared at the photo on his dashboard-him and Alina, smiling, before everything went dark. Before Damian came back.He grabbed his phone. No message. No apology. Just time passing, cold and bitter.***Inside the warehouse, Alina pulled away first. Her lips tingled, her thoughts tangled. Damian opened his mouth to speak, but she raised a hand."I need time," she whispered. "And answers. Real ones.""You'll get them," Damian promised. "Starting now."He walked to a rusted cabinet in the corner, pulling out a small, locked box. "Proof. Of everything. What they did. What they're planning."He handed it to her.Alina's hands shook as she took it. "What's inside?""Names. Places. Targets." He looked at her, eyes dark. "Including yours."Her blood ran cold.Outside, tires s
Alina was mid-sentence in a call with the new operations lead when the message came through. A single text from Naomi: "Turn on the news. Now."Her heart dropped. She didn't hesitate. With a few taps, the massive screen on her office wall flickered to life, already tuned to a business network. The chyron was enough to make her blood go cold.BREAKING: CEO Alina Caldwell Under Investigation for Misappropriation of Funds.Alina stared at the screen. They'd used her official headshot-the one from the internal press kit. The anchor's voice cut through the silence like a knife."...sources say that during her tenure as CFO, Caldwell may have reallocated discretionary funds into off-book projects without proper board approval. While no formal charges have been filed, anonymous internal documents suggest a pattern of questionable accounting practices..."The report droned on, but Alina had heard enough. She muted the volume just as Naomi burst through the door, tablet in hand."It's Gregory,







