ログインI didn’t sleep. Again.
The envelope with its cruel message – 72 HOURS, sat on my nightstand, the black letters practically glowing in the dark. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw it. Three days. A clock ticking louder with every heartbeat.
By morning, my nerves were frayed raw. I dressed on autopilot, grabbed coffee I couldn’t drink, and headed straight to the nonprofit.
Maybe the letter was just intimidation. Maybe Pierce was bluffing, and could still fix things before the deadline strangled me.
That hope died the moment I saw the police cars.
Two squad cars were parked in front of the building, red and blue lights flashing. A small crowd had gathered, murmuring. My heart lurched as I pushed through them.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
An officer held up a hand. “Ma’am, you can’t go inside right now.”
“This is my office!” I snapped. My voice came out higher than I intended. “What happened?”
The officer glanced at his partner, then sighed. “There was a break-in overnight. Place is trashed.”
The words hit like a gut punch.
I shoved past him before he could stop me. Inside, the sight stole my breath.
Desks overturned. Filing cabinets pried open. Papers scattered like fallen leaves. The wall of children’s drawings I loved so much—defaced. Ripped down, stomped on, smeared with something dark.
And on my desk, in the center of the wreckage, lay another envelope.
My legs nearly gave out.
I staggered forward and tore it open with shaking hands.
Inside: “66 HOURS. YOU’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME.”
My vision blurred. The police voices behind me faded.
This wasn’t random vandalism. This wasn’t just some junkie looking for cash. This was a message.
Pierce.
He was already shaving hours off the clock.
“Jane?”
I turned. Sophia stood in the doorway, her face pale. I hadn’t even noticed her arrive.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, taking in the chaos. “Who would…” She stopped when she saw the envelope in my hand. “Another one?”
I nodded numbly.
Her eyes hardened. “This is connected, isn’t it? To that man. The one you wouldn’t tell me about.”
I swallowed. “Soph—”
“Don’t ‘Soph’ me. You’re in danger, Jane. This isn’t just about your charity anymore. Whoever this is, they’re targeting you.”
She was right. But admitting it felt like inviting the terror deeper.
“I can handle it,” I lied.
Her glare could’ve cut glass. “No, you can’t. And you don’t have to. Tell Daniel.”
The name made my chest clench. Daniel, who refused to tell me the truth, who carried secrets like weapons, who looked at me with regret but never with answers.
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
Sophia grabbed my arm. “You don’t have a choice. If this Pierce guy is as dangerous as you’re making him sound, then you need help.”
Her grip tightened. “Jane, I don’t want to lose you, too.”
The words cracked something in me. Mom was already gone. Dad was fading. Sophia was all I had left.
But before I could answer, a voice called from the door.
“Well. Isn’t this touching?”
We both spun around.
Daniel stood there, his expression grim as he took in the wreckage. His gaze landed on the envelope in my hand, and his jaw tightened.
“Another one,” he said. Not a question.
I hated that he sounded unsurprised.
I rounded on him. “What does he want from me? Why is he doing this?”
Daniel’s eyes flicked to Sophia, then back to me. “We shouldn’t talk here.”
“No!” My voice rose, breaking. “I’m done with your secrets, Daniel. I deserve to know why this man is tearing my life apart.”
Sophia folded her arms, glaring between us. “Someone better start explaining before I lose my mind.”
Daniel’s jaw flexed. He looked at me with something like apology, then finally spoke.
“Jonathan Pierce isn’t just a businessman. He’s ruthless. He destroys people to get what he wants. And right now… what he wants is me.”
Sophia frowned. “Then why is he going after Jane?”
Daniel’s gaze met mine, and the answer chilled me to the bone.
“Because she’s the only thing that ever mattered to me. And he knows it.”
The words knocked the air from my lungs.
Sophia’s eyes widened. “Wait. What?”
But I couldn’t respond. My mind spun. Pierce wasn’t just targeting me. He was using me as a weapon. To break Daniel.
If Daniel was telling the truth… then Pierce wouldn’t stop until one of us shattered.
The officer interrupted, stepping back inside. “Ma’am, we’ll need you to come down to the station later to file a formal report.”
I nodded numbly.
As he left again, Sophia turned to me, panic sharp in her eyes. “Jane, this is insane. You need to stay with me until this is over.”
Daniel stepped forward. “No. She’ll be safer with me.”
Sophia snapped her head toward him. “Safer with the guy who clearly brought this nightmare into her life? I don’t think so.”
They glared at each other, and I felt like I was being torn in two.
“Soph—” I began.
But Daniel cut me off, his voice low and urgent. “Jane, listen to me. Pierce won’t stop. He’ll escalate. If you don’t let me protect you, he will win.”
Sophia’s hand tightened around mine. “And what if he’s lying? What if he’s part of this?”
Her words hit too close. A part of me wondered the same thing.
The room swam with tension, their voices overlapping, my heart pounding. And then my phone buzzed.
A text. Unknown number.
I opened it. My blood froze.
A picture.
Dad. In his hospital bed.
The photo was timestamped five minutes ago.
Beneath it, a message: “64 HOURS. TICK TOCK.”
My breath caught. It wasn’t just my nonprofit anymore. It wasn’t even about me.
They were watching my father. And now, the countdown had swallowed my family whole.Standing there, shadowed by the pale morning light, was Daniel.Only this time, his expression wasn’t gentle.It was cold. Controlled.And in his hand… he was holding another envelope.For a long, breathless moment, I couldn’t move. The air between us felt charged, tight, and humming like the space right before lightning strikes.Daniel stood just inside the doorway, his hair still damp from the rain outside, the faintest sheen of sweat on his brow.He looked exhausted, like someone who hadn’t slept in days. But there was something else too, something sharper in his eyes.He held out the envelope. “You left this in the lobby yesterday,” he said quietly.His voice was calm, careful, as if he knew how close I was to breaking.I didn’t take it. My hands were balled into fists at my sides. “What’s in it?”He hesitated. “Documents from Pierce’s board. They might help your foundation.”His tone was even, but I caught the flicker of tension in his jaw, the same one that used to appear whenev
My fingers trembled so hard I could barely hold the note.The words blurred as my tears fell onto the page, bleeding the ink into tiny blue rivers.The paper felt thin, fragile, like my entire world. My father’s hand lay limp beside it, pale against the white hospital sheet.“Dad,” I whispered, shaking his arm gently. “Dad, wake up. Please, wake up.”No response.His breathing was steady, but faint. The rhythmic beep of the monitor was the only sound filling the sterile air. I pressed the nurse call button, but my hand was shaking too badly to even hold it down.When the nurse rushed in, I stepped back, clutching the note behind me.“He’s fine,” she said after checking his vitals. “Just sleeping deeply. You should get some rest too, Miss Riley.”Rest. The word felt like a cruel joke.I nodded anyway, forcing a weak smile, and waited until she left before sinking into the chair beside him. My heart was pounding, my palms damp.He lied to protect himself.Who was he?Was it Daniel? Or P
I dashed into the hospital, where the air smelled of bleach and worry.I pushed through the corridor doors, my chest burning from the sprint up the stairs. Every step echoed in my skull.My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped my phone. All I could see was that text burned into my mind.“Choose, or watch him die.”“Please, please,” I whispered to no one. “Let him be okay.”When I reached my father’s room, the world tilted.He was there. Alive. Breathing. But pale, his chest rising and falling in slow, uneven rhythms. The heart monitor beeped a tired rhythm, steady but weak. A nurse looked up from her chart, startled by my entrance.“Miss Riley…”“What happened?” My voice came out strangled.“He’s stable,” she said gently. “No change since last night. But someone left this.” She pointed to the pillow beside him.My blood ran cold.A single white envelope rested against his pillow, perfectly placed, as though someone had been careful not to wake him.I moved closer, each step lo
I don’t remember walking home that night.My mind was too full, replaying my father’s words over and over, each repetition sinking like an anchor into my chest. Daniel knows… the truth about the accident.The accident. The one that broke my father’s body and left him clinging to borrowed time.The one I’d told myself was nothing more than a cruel chance. But now? Now the ground under me cracked wide open.And yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to believe Pierce was at the center of it all.It was too neat, too obvious. My gut said the truth was uglier, more complicated, and Daniel was somehow tied to it.The next morning, I buried myself in work. Or tried to. The office, usually my refuge, now felt like a trap.The eviction notice was still taped to the glass outside; I hadn’t had the heart or courage to peel it down.Inside, the place buzzed with nervous energy. Volunteers whispered in corners, throwing me uncertain looks.A couple of donors had already pulled out after hearing rumor
The city blurred outside the cab window, neon lights smearing into streaks of gold and red. My pulse hadn’t slowed since I left the nonprofit.The envelope, the report, and the photo burned against my chest like poison I couldn’t spit out.Daniel.His name had been pounding in my skull the entire ride.My father’s weak voice in the hospital bed replayed over and over: Daniel knows… the truth about the accident.And then the photo I found—the crash site, the blood on the asphalt, and that blurred silhouette that looked too much like him to ignore.I wanted to believe he wasn’t capable of that. But every new piece of evidence pulled me closer to a terrifying possibility: maybe I didn’t know Daniel at all.By the time the cab stopped in front of the high-rise on Fifth, I was shaking with anger and adrenaline.Daniel’s penthouse loomed above like some glass-and-steel fortress. Cold. Impenetrable. Perfect for a man who’d mastered secrets.I stormed through the lobby, past the doorman who b
I couldn’t shake my father’s words.He was there.Those three syllables had carved themselves into my skull, echoing every time I blinked.By morning, I was still replaying them in my mind, trying to convince myself I’d misheard, that his illness and medication had scrambled reality.But deep down, I knew he hadn’t been confused. He’d been terrified.And that terrified me.I skipped breakfast, my stomach too knotted for food, and went straight to the nonprofit office.The building felt different now. Every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of light carried a weight I hadn’t noticed before.I paused at the door, half-expecting another envelope taped to it, but this time it was clean.Inside, though, something was waiting for me.On my desk, lying like an accusation, was a plain brown envelope. No name. No address. Just sitting there.My throat went dry. My hands shook as I opened it.Inside was a single black-and-white photograph.The crash scene.Twisted metal. Shattered glass.







