Chapter 4: The Dead Man’s Message

Amara stood outside the glass doors of Cross Meridian Group, staring at the company logo above the entrance.

Three years ago, she had walked through those doors as Damian Cross’s wife and the woman whose invention had helped build his empire.

Today, security had to check her name before allowing her inside.

She tightened her grip around her handbag.

“Ms. Quinn?”

A receptionist approached her.

“Mr. Cross is expecting you.”

Amara followed her into the private elevator, and she watched the floor numbers climb, her mind returning to the photograph on her phone.

Noah, and Victor. The warehouse, and the timestamp.

11:32 p.m.

The elevator opened.

“His office is at the end of the corridor.”

Amara didn’t thank her. She walked straight towards the double doors and pushed them open.

Damian stood behind his desk, reading something on his tablet. His jacket was off, and his sleeves were rolled up.

He looked up.

“You’re late.”

“You’re lucky I came at all.”

He placed the tablet down.

“I wasn’t sure you would.”

Amara closed the door behind her.

“Then you should be grateful.”

Damian studied her for a moment before gesturing towards the chair opposite him.

“Sit.”

“I’m not staying long.”

“Then let’s not waste time.”

She dropped her handbag onto the chair.

“Why was my brother with Victor Hale on the night of the warehouse fire?”

Damian’s expression barely changed.

“Who?”

“Don’t.”

“Amara—”

She pulled out her phone and placed it on his desk.

“Look at it.”

Damian glanced down.

The photograph showed Noah standing outside the warehouse. Victor was beside him, his face turned slightly towards the camera.

Damian picked up the phone.

“Where did you get this?”

“That’s your first question?”

“Who sent it?”

“An anonymous number.”

He zoomed in on the picture.

“When was this taken?”

“11:32 p.m. Three years ago. The night of chaos..”

Damian placed the phone down.

“I don’t know anything about this.”

Amara stared at him.

“You don’t know anything about it, or you don’t want to tell me?”

“I never saw Noah that night.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

She watched his face, and he didn’t look away.

“Then perhaps you can explain why he was investigating Victor.”

Damian’s jaw tightened.

“You’re making assumptions.”

“No. I’m asking questions. Something you should have done three years ago.”

His eyes hardened.

“Don’t come into my office and pretend you know what happened that night.”

“Then tell me what happened.”

“Your brother died in that warehouse. I know that.”

“And you let everyone believe I caused it.”

Damian looked away.

Amara laughed once, without humour.

“That’s what I thought.”

She reached into her handbag and brought out a small recorder.

Damian’s eyes followed it.

“What’s that?”

“Something my brother left behind.”

She pressed play, and unease filled the office.

Then Noah’s voice came through.

“I’ve checked the shipment records twice. Someone is using AEGIS to move cargo without the required safety checks. The system keeps flagging the routes, but the warnings disappear before anyone acts on them.”

Amara’s fingers tightened around the recorder.

Noah sounded tired, but he was alive.

Damian leaned forward as the recording continued.

“I found the original logs. They don’t match the approved records. Someone is changing the data after the shipments have been cleared.”

A door slammed somewhere in the background.

Then another voice interrupted.

“Noah.”

Amara stopped breathing, and Damian went still.

The voice was unmistakable.

His.

“What are you doing here?”

Noah answered.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

There was a brief silence.

Then Damian’s recorded voice came again.

“Hand me your phone.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

The recording ended with a burst of static.

Neither of them moved, but Amara looked at Damian.

His face had changed. The confidence he had worn when she entered was gone.

“That’s your voice.”

He said nothing.

“Isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

The answer came quietly, and Amara took a step closer.

“You told me you never saw him that night.”

“I didn’t say I had never spoken to him.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then explain what you were doing with my brother.”

Damian rubbed his jaw.

“Noah came to see me about something he had found in the system.”

“What did he find?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

“That’s convenient.”

“He was talking about shipment records and irregularities. I told him to give me his phone.”

“Why?”

“Because he was making accusations without understanding the full situation.”

Amara stared at him.

“He was investigating something that could have killed people, Damian.”

“I know.”

“No. You don’t get to say that.”

Her voice cracked, but she forced it steady.

“He was twenty-four. He was trying to find out why safety warnings were being ignored. And instead of helping him, you demanded his phone?”

“I was trying to understand what he had.”

“By taking it from him?”

Damian pushed away from his desk.

“You’re twisting what happened.”

“Then straighten it out.”

He walked towards the window.

For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the distant traffic below.

“Victor was handling the warehouse operations,” he finally said. “I had approved an emergency shipment reroute that evening. When Noah came to me, I wanted to know whether his findings were connected to that decision.”

Amara felt her stomach tighten.

“You approved the reroute?”

“Yes.”

“And you never thought to mention that when I was being blamed?”

Damian turned around.

“I didn’t know the reroute had anything to do with the fire.”

“But you knew Noah had discovered something.”

“I knew he had concerns. I didn’t know how serious they were.”

“You could have told the investigators.”

“I was dealing with a company-wide crisis.”

“My brother was dead!”

Her palm struck his desk.

The sound echoed through the office.

“Eleven people were dead, Damian. And you were worried about a company-wide crisis?”

His expression tightened.

“I was trying to keep the company from collapsing.”

Amara stared at him.

There it was again.

The company.

Always the company.

She picked up the recorder.

“Did you give Noah’s phone back?”

Damian didn’t answer immediately.

“Damian.”

“I don’t remember.”

Her lips parted slightly.

“You don’t remember?”

“It was three years ago.”

She shook her head.

“Of course.”

She turned towards the door.

“Amara.”

She stopped but didn’t face him.

“Don’t take that recording to the police yet.”

Slowly, she looked over her shoulder.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t know what you’re holding.”

“Then tell me.”

Damian’s eyes moved to the recorder in her hand.

“Victor has been with this company for twenty years. He knows where every record is buried and who has access to it. If you start making accusations without the full picture, you’ll put yourself in danger.”

Amara studied him.

“Are you warning me about Victor?”

“I’m warning you about what happens when you start pulling at things you don’t understand.”

She opened the door.

“Then I suggest you start understanding them yourself.”

She stepped into the corridor, and behind her, Damian called her name again, but this time, she kept walking.

Damian remained beside his desk long after the door closed.

He picked up his phone and opened the photograph Amara had shown him.

Noah stood beside Victor, and the timestamp was clear.

11:32 p.m.

Damian enlarged the image, focusing on Noah’s raised hand.

Then he remembered that night of the emergency shipment, and the call from Victor.

Noah was standing in his office, refusing to hand over his phone.

Damian opened his contacts and called Victor.

The COO answered on the second ring.

“Damian. What can I do for you?”

“Where were you at 11:32 p.m. on the night of the warehouse fire?”

There was silence for a second, then Victor chuckled.

“That’s a strange question.”

“Answer it.”

“I was handling the emergency operations, as you know.”

“Did you meet Noah Quinn that night?”

There was another pause.

“Why are you asking me about Noah?”

Damian stared at the photograph.

“Just answer the question, Victor.”

“I don’t remember every person I spoke to that night.”

Damian’s grip tightened around the phone.

“Amara has a recording.”

The silence that followed was longer.

“What kind of recording?”

“One with my voice on it.”

Victor exhaled.

“That’s unfortunate.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed.

“Unfortunate?”

“Your ex-wife is emotional, Damian. She’s looking for someone to blame. Don’t let her drag you into another scandal.”

“She knows Noah was investigating the shipment records.”

Victor said nothing.

“Victor?”

“I’m here.”

“Did Noah find something?”

The COO’s voice remained calm.

“People who dig through confidential company records sometimes find things they don’t understand.”

Damian stood straight.

“That’s not an answer.”

“No. It isn’t.”

The call ended, and Damian slowly lowered his phone.

Across the office, the photograph remained open on his computer screen.

For three years, he had believed Noah’s investigation ended with his death.

But now Amara had a recording, and Victor had just confirmed that he was afraid of what Noah found.

Damian picked up his phone again.

This time, he sent a message to an unknown number.

Find out what Noah Quinn discovered before he died.

A reply arrived less than a minute later.

“I thought you wanted that buried.”

Damian stared at the screen, just as another message appeared.

“Victor already knows she’s back.”

Damian looked towards the closed office door.

Amara wasn’t the only one digging into the past anymore.

And someone had just reminded him that the past was never truly buried.