Shadows Close in

Liora didn’t sleep that night.

The almost kiss felt like a paused movie in her mind, she thought about it all night. That really got her worked up. It gave her a sharp pain.

By morning, the rented dress was all crumpled on the floor of her place, looking like she couldn't afford to keep it. She stood under the shower, hot water running out, trying to wash away the memory of yesterday.

She needed answers, not distraction.

She spent the day digging.

Her old, wheezing laptop buzzed on the table as she checked every public record she could find.

Elias Rhodes: The official cause of death was a single-car accident on a coastal highway, ten years back. No details form the autopsy have been made public. Damien Hawthorne stepped up as the acting CEO of the Rhodes Enterprises super quick, flipped the name to Hawthorne Enterprises, and made it a big deal in tech and finance. The whole timeline looks too precise and meticulously planned. Too clean.

She stumbled upon some photos of Damien and Elias mingling together at charity events, parties, and university galas. Always side by side Always smiling. Damien was hugging Elias, laughing with his head back in a photo from a college newspaper The caption said: The Rhodes legacy's future leaders are inseparable

Liora kept staring at the picture until her eyes started to hurt

Then she found something else.

A little piece from a local news archive, eight years back: Anonymous tip leads to brief investigation into Voss family finances. No charges have been filed. The article was brief and somewhat unclear, but it did touch on "potential issues with the will" and cited a source mentioning the family was "pushed to merge assets before the next generation came into the picture

She saved the link.

Her phone started buzzing with an unexpected notification by late afternoon.

An email from an unknown sender. With the title, “You probably shouldn't have showed up last night’’

Her stomach dropped.

The body was blank except for one line: Some graves are better left unopened. Leave the city We'll help you do so.

Attached: a single photo.

She was snapped right outside her apartment building that morning, when she stepped out front with her coffee, hair still wet from the shower. The angle was sharp, professional. Liora’s hands shook as she closed the laptop.

She walked to and fro around the tiny room, her heart pounding. This doesn’t look like Damien's style; he got too involved last night. He'd have gone straight up to her and said what he had to say.

It was quite chilly. Calculated.

Someone else was watching her.

She pictured the lady in red at the party with eyes like daggers, a sly grin. Who was she.

Liora opened a new tab and search for Damien's public appearances. The Hawthorne’s Foundation threw events pretty much every week. Tonight's the night for a private dinner at his penthouse, just for a few selected investors. Invitation-only. The security would be much more strict than it was at the gala.

She looked at the screen for quite a while.

Then she typed a quick message to the same acquaintance who’d sent the volunteer spot: Any way to get into tonight’s dinner? Even as staff?

The reply came faster than she expected: Kitchen crew available. But you will have to sign a nondisclosure agreement, put on the designated uniform. The pay is decent. Are you interested?

Liora typed back without hesitating for a second: Send the details.

In less than two hours, she was at the elevator of Apex Tower, all dressed up in sharp black trousers and a white shirt, her hair pulled back together, with her name tag carrying a fake name, L Carter.

A tray held by just one hand, loaded with ice-cold, bubbly water glasses for the pre-dinner socializing.

The penthouse level opened onto a private foyer. Soft jazz played from hidden speakers. Voices echoed from behind the double doors

Liora kept her head down, sneaking through the staff corridor like she was part of the team She sneaked by a security guard who barely noticed her ID.

Then she saw him.

Damien stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, back to the room, speaking quietly to a man in a navy suit. Even from behind, his posture was unmistakable

She should have turned away, instead she moved nearer.

He turned around as if he saw her approach him, then their eyes met.

For a split second, his expression was a mystery Then a raw flash of surprise, fury, and hunger hit it, vanishing just as quickly

He stepped away from the chat and made his way across the room.

He halted just a hair's breadth away from her, his voice barely audible, dripping with danger

“What the hell are you doing here?”

I’m working as you can see, she said in a calm manner, presenting the tray as any server would.

He didn't take it. His hand gently took her wrist. He pulled her into a dark corner away from the crowd.

“You got the email,” he mentioned. It wasn't a question

She raced her face up. “I received a threat. Not from you?”.

His jaw tightened. “You think I’d send an anonymous message? If I wanted you gone, you’d gone already by now without any trace.”.

“Then who?”

He took a bit of time before replying. “People who benefit from the story staying buried.”.

“Like the woman in red last night?”

His eyes darkened. “Seraphina Langford. She’s… complicated.”

“Complicated enough to spy on me and send photos of me outside my apartment?”.

He took a deep breath and said, "She's not the only one keeping an eye on things.

Liora went nearer, her voice lowering. “Alright, Damien, no more games.” Can you just tell me the truth. What happened to Elias?”

For a second, he seemed pretty worn out, his eyes had these new lines around them.

“It not something you should know Liora” he said quietly. “It will burn everything down. Including you.”

“I don’t care Damian, I really don’t. “Maybe I’m already burning.”

He took a long, intense look at her Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, folded card. A plain, logo-free white item“ Midnight,” he said. “Rooftop garden. Alone. No uniform. No tray.”.

She grabbed the card. Their fingers lightly touched. The power cut out between them once more.

“Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t.” He said with a rough voice. “But you will.”

He stepped back. “Midnight,” he repeated.

Then he walked away, leaving her with the card in her hand and her pulse roaring in her ears.

Liora looked down at the white square.

No name. No address.

Two words, handwritten in black ink, on the back.

Come alone.

She smiled.

She would.

When she finally does, she'd unload all the questions she'd been holding onto for three years

And maybe, just maybe she’d finally taste the truth she’d been after all these whiles.