All Chapters of My Father’s Enemy, My Obsession : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The ballroom looks like money tried to reinvent gravity.Crystal chandeliers drip from a vaulted ceiling, scattering light over polished marble and too‑tall floral arrangements. Waiters in black move like a well‑choreographed algorithm, weaving through clusters of men in suits and women in gowns that cost more than most people’s rent.A banner across the far wall proclaims in tasteful serif:**URBAN FUTURES GALA & MUNICIPAL BID PREVIEW**In smaller print beneath: *Hosted by the Mayor’s Development Council – Sponsored by Kade Dynamics, Moretti Holdings, and others.*Ava pulls her wrap tighter around her shoulders as she steps into the room with Vince and her brothers.The cameras at the entrance flash, catching the Morettis in a neat tableau: Vince in the middle, sons flanking, daughter just back enough to be decorative but not central.Standard.She smiles when she’s supposed to.Let Vince’s hand rest heavy on her elbow as he steers her toward the mayor, the councilmen, the donors who

Damian doesn’t storm.He doesn’t rage.He stares at the alert on his screen for a full ten seconds, then reaches for the phone and taps a familiar extension.“Nolan,” he says when it picks up. “Tell me what you’ve got.”“Lot Seventeen node,” Nolan says. “Blocked probe. No breach. Origin trace: Moretti guest Wi‑Fi. Same block as before. Stronger signature this time.”“Same pattern as Cass?” Damian asks.“Close enough that I’d bet your quarterly bonus on it,” Nolan says. “She dove deeper. Touched L17_SEC. Didn’t pull anything out that I could see, but she opened a file under Vince’s code.”Damian leans back slowly.“How sure are you?” he asks.“Triple‑checked,” Nolan says. “She was in, saw something, got yanked. Then, the tunnel collapsed. Smart. Also incriminating.”Damian’s jaw tightens.“Log it,” he says. “Eyes only. Mine and yours. No one else touches that trace.”“Already done,” Nolan says. “Want me to lock her credentials out of the sensitive nodes?”“Not yet,” Damian says. “She w

Nolan’s office is the one place in Kade Tower that doesn’t pretend it isn’t a bunker.Damian’s space is all theater—glass, skyline, and power on display.Nolan’s is narrower, darker, lined with shelves of binders and monitors, and a whiteboard covered in equations that would scare most accountants.He likes it that way.The door slams open without warning.“Knock, Torres,” Nolan says without looking up from his screen. “Basic etiquette. Even for heathens.”“Basic etiquette is for people who don’t bring tributes,” Riley says.He glances up.She’s leaning against the doorframe, two to‑go cups in a cardboard carrier, sunglasses pushed up on her head, hair in a messy twist that probably cost a fortune at a salon and looks like she did it with one hand.She’s in high‑waisted black pants and a slouchy silk blouse the color of sin.She lifts the carrier.“Coffee,” she announces. “With your ridiculous custom order.”He blinks.“You remembered my order,” he says.“Small miracles,” she says, br

The file takes a second longer than usual to load.Ava watches the little spinning icon like it’s a countdown.Then, the PDF blooms across her screen.Legalese.Headers.Logos.Her eyes skim the top.> **CONTRACT FOR SERVICES** > > **Between: VM Holdings (Moretti Development Subsidiary)** > > **And: RIVERSIDE SOLUTIONS LLC**Riverside.The name tickles something in the back of her brain.A shell Cass once mentioned in passing. A nothing company that, when you pulled the right threads, led back to Kade.She scrolls.Scope of work.“Pre‑development consulting.”“Site analysis.”“Risk assessment.”On page three, her stomach drops.> **Additional Services:** > > *Expedited clearance of existing structures as necessary to meet development timeline.*Her eyes snag on a clause halfway down.> Contractor to coordinate with third‑party vendors as required to ensure timely removal of any “stubborn occupants” interfering with the project schedule.“Stubborn occupants.”Her vision blurs.

She doesn’t sleep.The file sits in her inbox like a live charge. It takes three tries before her thumb actually hits the attachment instead of hovering over it.Queens_Riverside_Internal_Memo_7.pdfCass’s voice is in her head—metadata, certs, patterns—but Ava doesn’t forward this one. Not yet. Not before she’s looked.The memo is short.An internal email chain between mid‑level project managers on the Riverside job. Corporate headers. Time stamps. A dry thread about “remaining complication.”At the bottom, a single line, forwarded from a secure address she recognizes from the other document. Damian’s digital signature block sits under it like a punch.Handle the outlier. Everyone else is acceptable collateral.The word hooks behind her ribs.Outlier.Seven.Not just “people in the way.” Someone singled out. Deliberate.She zooms in on the cert. It matches the others. Same encrypted chain, same signature architecture.Her heart hammers.She finally sends it to Cass with shaking finger