Eva

11

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I clutch my phone, my pulse pounding as I stare at the message on the screen:

“We warned you. You’re next.”

The words feel like icy fingers wrapping around my throat, squeezing the air out of me. My hands tremble, but I clench them into fists, forcing myself to breathe. This isn’t the first threat I’ve received, but somehow, this one feels more personal. More imminent.

“I can’t stay here,” I blurt out, pushing myself off the couch.

Dominic rises to his feet, his broad frame towering over me. His piercing blue eyes burn with intensity, and his jaw tightens. “What are you talking about?”

“I need to leave,” I insist, pacing the room. I wave the phone in the air, the text glaring back at me like a warning light. “This is escalating. They know where you live, Dominic. If I stay, I’m putting you in danger.”

His expression hardens, and he steps into my path, halting my pacing. “You’re not going anywhere.”

I glare up at him, hating how calm and commanding he sounds. “You don’t get to make that decision for me.”

His hands settle on his hips, his voice dropping to a low, deliberate tone. “You think running away is going to make you safer? It won’t. Separating will make us easier targets. They want us isolated and afraid, . Don’t give them what they want.”

I cross my arms, refusing to be swayed by his logic—or the frustrating certainty in his voice. “You don’t get it. These people aren’t just after you anymore. They’re after me too. What if they come for you because of me? What if—”

He steps closer, his gaze locking onto mine, his voice low and steady. “Then I’ll handle it. Like I always do.”

I hate how his words ease some of the tension in my chest. I hate the certainty in his tone, the unwavering confidence. “You can’t control everything, Dominic. You’re not invincible, no matter how much you act like you are.”

“And you’re not disposable,” he shoots back, his voice sharp. “So stop acting like running will fix this.”

The room falls into a tense silence, the air between us crackling with unspoken words. I want to yell at him, to push him away and pull him closer all at once. Instead, I fold my arms tighter and whisper, “Why are you doing this? Why do you care so much?”

His jaw works, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer. But then his voice softens. “Because I know what it’s like to feel hunted. And I’ll be damned if I let them win by taking you out of this fight.”

The sincerity in his tone catches me off guard, and I hate how much it affects me. I sink onto the edge of the couch, my resolve wavering. “I don’t know if I can do this, Dominic.”

He sits beside me, close enough that our knees touch. His presence feels like a shield, steady and unyielding. “You can. We’ll do it together.”

After a few moments of silence, we both pull out our laptops. The hacker’s message looms over us like a storm cloud, demanding answers.

“We need to trace the origin,” Dominic says, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “Even if they’ve covered their tracks, there’s always a trail.”

I glance at him, surprised by the ease with which he navigates the digital maze. “You’re not bad at this for a billionaire.”

He smirks, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I wasn’t always a billionaire.”

The words hang in the air, but I don’t press. Instead, I focus on the message. Years of investigative journalism have taught me how to dig beneath the surface, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that nothing is ever truly erased online.

After what feels like an eternity, I lean forward, my heart racing. “Got something.”

Dominic slides his chair closer, his blue eyes scanning the screen. “An offshore server?”

I nod, pointing to the IP address I’ve traced. “It’s linked to a shell company based in the Cayman Islands. But look at this—it’s been accessed recently from a location in Chicago.”

His brows knit together. “Chicago? That’s too close to be a coincidence.”

“It gets better,” I say, pulling up another tab. “The shell company is connected to a tech firm that went under five years ago—one that used to be a direct competitor to Kane Enterprises.”

Dominic’s jaw tightens. “Blackwell Industries.”

“You know them?”

“More than I’d like to,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair. “Jeremy Blackwell, the CEO, had a personal vendetta against me. When his company collapsed, he blamed me for it. But he’s been out of the picture for years. Disgraced, bankrupt. If he’s involved in this…”

“Then he’s had plenty of time to nurse a grudge,” I finish for him.

Dominic nods, his expression grim. “We need to dig deeper. If Blackwell is behind this, we’ll need proof before we make a move.”

As we comb through the data, the hours tick by, but the tension never fades. Dominic works with a quiet intensity that I can’t help but admire, and despite the weight of everything, I feel a strange sense of camaraderie between us.

“You’re good at this,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence.

I glance at him, surprised. “What?”

“Your instincts,” he clarifies. “You see connections most people would miss. That lead on Blackwell—most of my team wouldn’t have found that.”

The unexpected praise catches me off guard, and I find myself smiling despite the circumstances. “Well, don’t get used to it. I’m not signing up for a job at Kane Enterprises.”

His lips twitch into a faint smile, but the moment is fleeting. His expression turns serious again, and he leans closer. “I mean it, . Your intuition—it’s the missing piece I didn’t know I needed. But it also makes you a target.”

Just as we’re finalizing our plan, Dominic’s phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, his expression darkening as he answers.

“Adrian,” he says, his tone clipped.

I watch as his face hardens, the lines of tension deepening around his mouth. “What do you mean, he’s gone?”

I sit up straighter, my pulse quickening.

Dominic listens for a moment, then stands abruptly, pacing the room. “Find him. I don’t care how long it takes—find him.”

When he ends the call, I’m already on my feet. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Conrad,” he says, his voice tight. “He’s gone off the grid.”

My stomach drops. “And that’s bad because…?”

“Because,” Dominic says, his eyes blazing with fury, “there’s been another breach. And this time, it’s worse than anything we’ve seen.”

The weight of his words presses down on me, but I force myself to focus. “What do we do now?” I ask, my voice steady despite the storm brewing in my chest.

Dominic’s gaze sharpens, his resolve cutting through the tension like a knife. “We keep following the trail. And this time, we don’t stop until we end this.”

His words settle over me, heavy and unrelenting. And for the first time since this all began, I feel a flicker of hope that we might actually stand a chance.

The air in the penthouse feels electric, charged with the weight of Dominic’s revelation. My mind churns, trying to process everything. Conrad has disappeared. There’s another breach, and this one could directly implicate Dominic. The pieces of this nightmare are falling into place, but the picture they’re forming is darker and more dangerous than I could’ve imagined.

Dominic is already moving, grabbing his laptop and phone as he fires off a rapid string of orders. His voice is calm but lethal, a sharp edge of determination beneath the surface.

“Adrian,” he says into the phone, pacing by the window. “I need eyes on all Conrad’s known connections. Family, friends, anyone he’s had contact with in the last six months. If he’s gone dark, he didn’t do it alone.”

He ends the call, his jaw tight, and turns to me. “We need to act fast. Whoever’s behind this isn’t just after Kane Enterprises anymore. They’re escalating because they think they’ve backed us into a corner.”

“Have they?” I ask, hating the crack in my voice.

His eyes meet mine, a mix of steel and something softer. “Not yet. But we’re running out of time.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “What do you need me to do?”

“Keep digging,” he says without hesitation. “If Blackwell’s involved, we need a clear connection to him and Conrad. You’ve already found more in a few hours than some of my team has in weeks. We need to build on that.”

I hesitate, glancing at the laptop on the coffee table. “Dominic… what if we’re wrong? What if this isn’t about Blackwell?”

His gaze sharpens, and he steps closer, the intensity in his expression making it hard to breathe. “If it’s not Blackwell, then we’ll find out who it is. But until we do, he’s our best lead.”

His confidence is unsettling, but it’s also infectious. I sink back onto the couch, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I dive deeper into the web of shell companies and offshore accounts. Dominic works beside me, his presence a steady, grounding force even as the minutes tick by in tense silence.

Hours later, a breakthrough finally comes—not from me, but from Adrian. Dominic’s phone buzzes, and he answers immediately, putting the call on speaker.

“We’ve got something,” Adrian says, his voice tight with urgency. “Conrad’s last known location was pinged at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. But that’s not the interesting part.”

“What is?” Dominic demands, already grabbing his jacket.

“The warehouse was leased six months ago by a shell company tied to—wait for it—Blackwell Industries.”

I glance at Dominic, my heart racing. He doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face is enough to make my stomach twist. If this lead pans out, it could be the connection we need to take Blackwell down—or it could be another trap.

“Send me the address,” Dominic says, his voice clipped. He ends the call and looks at me. “You’re not coming.”

“Excuse me?” I say, standing. “You think I’m just going to sit here while you walk into God knows what?”

“It’s not up for debate, ,” he snaps. “This could be dangerous.”

“That’s never stopped me before,” I fire back. “You said it yourself—I’ve found more in a few hours than your team has in weeks. I’m part of this, whether you like it or not.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You’re stubborn as hell, you know that?”

“Look who’s talking,” I mutter, grabbing my coat. “Let’s go.”

The drive to the warehouse is tense, the silence between us heavy with unspoken fears. The city lights fade behind us, replaced by the dark, sprawling industrial district. The warehouse looms ahead, a hulking shadow against the night sky. Adrian is waiting for us near the entrance, his face set in grim determination.

“This is the place,” he says, leading us toward a side door. “Security cameras are down, but we’ve got a heat signature inside. Could be Conrad. Could be someone else.”

Dominic nods, his expression unreadable. “Stay sharp.”

The air inside the warehouse is stale, heavy with dust and the faint scent of oil. The faint hum of machinery echoes through the space, but it feels abandoned—too quiet, too still. My pulse quickens as we move deeper into the building, every shadow and sound setting my nerves on edge.

Adrian stops in front of a metal door, his hand hovering over the handle. “Heat signature’s strongest in here,” he says quietly. “Ready?”

Dominic nods, and Adrian pushes the door open.

The room beyond is small and cluttered, filled with old equipment and dusty furniture. In the center of the space, a laptop sits on a rickety desk, its screen glowing faintly in the darkness. Dominic approaches cautiously, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement.

“No one’s here,” Adrian says, his voice low. “But this setup… it’s deliberate.”

I step closer, my gaze fixed on the laptop. The screen displays a single message:

“Welcome to phase two.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I whisper, my stomach twisting.

Dominic doesn’t answer. He’s already at the desk, typing furiously as he tries to access the laptop’s files. The tension in his shoulders is palpable, and I can feel my own nerves unraveling as the seconds tick by.

“Anything?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Encrypted,” he mutters, his jaw tightening. “Whoever set this up knew what they were doing.”

Before I can respond, a faint sound cuts through the silence—a soft click, like the sound of a door closing in the distance. My blood runs cold, and I glance at Dominic, who’s already on high alert.

“Adrian,” Dominic says sharply. “Check the perimeter. Now.”

Adrian nods, his expression grim as he slips out of the room. I stay frozen in place, my heart pounding as the silence stretches on. Dominic moves closer to me, his presence steadying even as my mind races with worst-case scenarios.

“Stay behind me,” he says quietly, his hand resting on the small of my back as he guides me toward the door.

The hallway outside is empty, but the tension in the air is suffocating. Every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of movement in the shadows feels like a threat. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched, that whoever left that message is still here, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

When Adrian returns, his expression is grim. “No sign of anyone, but there’s fresh tire tracks outside. Whoever was here left in a hurry.”

“Too much of a coincidence,” Dominic mutters, his fists clenching at his sides. “They wanted us to find this. They’re leading us somewhere.”

“But where?” I ask, my voice shaking despite my efforts to stay calm.

Dominic doesn’t answer right away. He stares at the laptop, his expression dark and unreadable. Finally, he says, “Wherever it is, we’re going to make damn sure we’re ready.”

The determination in his voice sends a shiver down my spine, but it’s not enough to drown out the fear. Whoever’s behind this is always one step ahead, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re playing right into their hands.

Dominic’s phone buzzes, breaking the silence. He glances at the screen, his expression hardening as he answers. “Adrian,” he says. “What’ve you got?”

Adrian’s voice crackles through the line, tense and urgent. “You’re not going to believe this, but we’ve got a hit on Blackwell. He’s in Chicago.”

Dominic’s gaze snaps to mine, his blue eyes blazing with resolve. “Then that’s where we’re going.”

I nod, swallowing hard. The fight isn’t over—not by a long shot. But as I meet Dominic’s gaze, I realize something has shifted between us. We’re not just partners in this anymore. We’re allies. And no matter what comes next, we’re in it together.

For better or worse.