Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Questions

The story broke on a Monday.

Not the full story. Not the evidence. Not the documents. Just enough to raise questions. A journalist I'd never met published an article about Ashford Holdings. The headline was simple: Questions Mount Around Ashford Holdings' Offshore Accounts.

I read it three times. Then I set it down.

Felix was watching me. He was waiting for a reaction.

"It's a start," I said.

"It's more than a start. It's the first crack."

I looked at the article again. The journalist had done her homework. She'd found the accounts. She'd found the transfers. She'd found the shell companies. She hadn't connected them to Henry yet. But she was close.

"Who leaked it?" I asked.

Felix shifted his weight. "We did. Anonymously. Through a source we trust."

"Adrian knows?"

"Adrian arranged it."

I nodded. I wasn't surprised. Adrian didn't do anything without a reason.

By noon, the article had been shared a thousand times. By three, Julian's company had released a statement denying everything. By five, the stock had dropped eight percent.

I watched it happen from my office. I didn't feel satisfied. I didn't feel anything.

---

That night, Adrian found me in the living room.

I was sitting on the couch. The television was on. I wasn't watching it.

"You should eat," he said.

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"I know," I said. "I just—"

I stopped. I didn't know how to finish the sentence.

He walked to the couch. He sat beside me. Not too close. Not too far.

"You thought you'd feel something," he said.

"Yes."

"And you don't."

"No."

He didn't respond. He just waited.

"I've been planning this for so long," I said. "I've been thinking about it. Dreaming about it. And now it's happening. And I feel nothing."

"That's not nothing."

I looked at him. "What?"

"That feeling. The emptiness. That's not nothing. That's the absence of something you've been carrying for years. You're not feeling nothing. You're feeling the weight lift."

I considered that. I didn't know if he was right. But I didn't argue.

"What did you feel?" I asked. "When you started going after Henry. When you started planning."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "The same thing."

"And did it go away?"

"Eventually."

"When?"

"When I found something else to focus on."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"What?" I asked.

He didn't answer. He just looked at me. That same unnamed something crossed his face. This time, he didn't hide it.

"You," he said.

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

We sat there. The television flickered. The city hummed outside.

After a while, I leaned my head against his shoulder. He didn't move. He just let me.

We stayed there until the sun came up.

---

The next morning, Julian called.

I was in my office. I was reviewing the article. I saw his name on the screen. I let it ring.

He called again. And again. On the fifth call, I answered.

"What?"

"You did this."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The article. The questions. The stock drop. You did this."

"Prove it."

He was quiet. I could hear him breathing. Heavy. Angry.

"You're going to regret this," he said.

"I've heard that before."

"You think you're safe? You think Kane can protect you? He can't. Not from me."

I didn't respond. I just waited.

"You're going to lose everything," he said. "Just like I did."

"No," I said. "I'm going to take everything. Just like you took everything from me."

I hung up.

---

That night, Adrian found me on the balcony.

I was standing at the railing. The air was cold. I didn't care.

"Julian called," he said.

"I know."

"What did he say?"

"That I'm going to regret this. That I'm going to lose everything."

Adrian stepped beside me. He didn't touch me. He just stood there.

"And what did you say?"

"That I'm going to take everything. Just like he took everything from me."

He looked at me. I looked at him.

"He's going to escalate," he said.

"I know."

"He's going to come after you."

"He already did."

Adrian didn't respond. He just looked at me.

"I'm not afraid," I said.

"I know."

"Then stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm going to break."

He held my gaze. Neither of us spoke.

"I'm not looking at you like you're going to break," he said. "I'm looking at you like I can't lose you."

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

He reached for my hand. He took it. His fingers were warm. Steady.

"Let's finish this," he said.

I looked at our hands. I looked at him.

"Okay," I said.

We stood there. The city hummed outside. The wind picked up.

After a while, I leaned my head against his shoulder. He didn't move. He just let me.

We stayed there until the sun came up.