Eva

35

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The cursor blinks on the screen in front of me, its rhythmic pulse like a metronome counting the seconds. My final article—the culmination of months of chaos, fear, and unrelenting determination—is done. Every word has been scrutinized, rewritten, and perfected.

The title stares back at me:

"The Global Network of Betrayal: Reyes, Conrad, and the Web of Deceit."

This isn’t just a story—it’s a declaration of war.

The sunlight filters into Dominic’s penthouse, casting a deceptive calm over the room. Outside, New York hums with life, oblivious to the firestorm this article will ignite. My chest tightens. The weight of what I’m about to unleash presses down, suffocating yet thrilling all at once.

Dominic appears in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. Exhaustion lines his face, but his eyes—sharp and unwavering—anchor me.

“You’re about to change everything,” he says, his voice low and steady.

“I know.” My throat tightens as I force the words out.

He crosses the room in a few purposeful strides and stops behind my chair. His hands rest on my shoulders, firm yet grounding.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he murmurs, his thumbs brushing gentle circles against my collarbone.

I lean back into his touch, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’m not alone.”

“No, you’re not,” he replies, his lips quirking in a faint, reassuring smile.

I take a deep breath, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. This is it—the moment everything changes. My pulse pounds in my ears as I press “Publish.”

The confirmation pops up on the screen: stark, final, inescapable.

It’s live.

Hours Later

The fallout is immediate.

The article spreads like wildfire, dominating headlines and sparking chaos. My phone buzzes incessantly—a relentless flood of calls, messages, and emails. Praise, condemnation, threats—they pour in, each one louder than the last.

Across the room, Dominic stands by his desk, phone pressed to his ear. His voice is calm but commanding as he reassures board members and investors. His sleeves are rolled up, his tie discarded, and though the chaos swirls around him, his resolve is unwavering.

Adrian strides into the penthouse, laptop in hand and a grim expression etched into his face. He places the device on the desk and looks at Dominic.

“It’s escalating,” he says. “The board’s on edge, and Reyes’s camp is already spinning their narrative. They’re painting as a rogue journalist with an agenda.”

Dominic’s jaw tightens. “Let them try. The evidence speaks for itself.”

Adrian nods. “The investors are nervous, but they’re not jumping ship. Yet.”

“Good,” Dominic replies firmly. “Keep it that way.”

Adrian turns to me, his expression softening. “You did the right thing, .”

I nod, but my stomach churns. “I hope so.”

Later That Night

Dominic and I stand on the balcony, the city stretched out before us like a living, breathing entity. The air is crisp, the hum of traffic a constant reminder that life moves on—even in the wake of upheaval.

“You’re quiet,” Dominic says, breaking the silence.

I shrug, wrapping my arms around myself. “It’s a lot to process.”

He turns to me, his blue eyes soft yet intent. “Do you regret it?”

I meet his gaze, the weight of the question settling over me. “No. But I’m scared.”

He steps closer, his hands framing my face. “You don’t have to be. We’ll get through this.”

I close my eyes and lean into his touch. “How do you always sound so sure?”

“Because I’ve seen what we can do together,” he replies simply.

The next morning, a chill runs through me as my phone buzzes. An unknown number flashes on the screen, and a sense of foreboding grips me.

“Hello?” I answer hesitantly.

There’s silence before a familiar voice cuts through—smooth, menacing, and all too familiar.

“Did you think this was over, ?”

Reyes.

My blood runs cold.

“What do you want?” I demand, forcing steel into my voice.

He chuckles, low and mocking. “I just wanted to remind you who you’re dealing with. Check your inbox.”

The line goes dead.

I sit frozen for a moment before grabbing my laptop. A new email sits at the top of my inbox—no subject, no sender. My heart pounds as I open it.

A single attachment: “For .”

Dominic enters the room, his expression darkening as he sees my face. “What is it?”

“It’s from Reyes,” I whisper.

He’s at my side in an instant. “Don’t open it.”

But it’s too late. The attachment opens, flooding the screen with documents—financial statements, contracts, blueprints.

Dominic leans closer, his jaw tightening. “This… this is his operation.”

The files detail Reyes’s vast network—connections to shell companies, offshore accounts, and a new name: Lena’s Project.

“He’s tied to the environmental initiative,” I whisper, dread sinking into my stomach.

Dominic’s expression hardens. “He’s using it as a front. This isn’t just about Kane Enterprises anymore. This is global.”

By evening, the penthouse buzzes with activity. Adrian and his team work tirelessly, unraveling the threads Reyes has left behind.

Dominic and I sift through the evidence, side by side, the weight of it all pressing down on us.

“We’re running out of time,” I say, urgency thick in my voice.

“We’ll figure it out,” Dominic replies, his tone unyielding. “We always do.”

But as the night deepens, one thing becomes painfully clear: Reyes isn’t done. And his next move could destroy everything.

The low hum of the jet engine fills the cabin as we streak through the night sky toward Hong Kong. The city that never sleeps looms ahead, its glowing skyline promising answers—or more chaos. Dominic sits across from me, his head bowed as he reviews the latest intel on Reyes. His focus is laser-sharp, but his tension is palpable, radiating off him in waves.

I lean back in my seat, trying to ignore the knot twisting in my stomach. The events of the last few days have taken a toll, and despite Dominic’s best efforts to shield me, I feel the weight of it all pressing down on me. Every name, every face, every detail in Reyes’s file is etched into my memory. The stakes have never been higher, and the fear of what we might face claws at the edges of my resolve.

Dominic glances up from his laptop, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. “You should rest,” he says, his voice low but firm. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“I could say the same to you,” I reply, my tone softer than I intended. “You’ve been running on fumes.”

He offers a faint smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll rest when Reyes is behind bars—or buried.”

The raw determination in his voice sends a shiver through me. Dominic Kane doesn’t do things halfway. He’s a man who finishes what he starts, no matter the cost.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table between us. “What’s the plan once we land?”

Dominic pulls up a map of Hong Kong on the screen in front of him, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “Adrian’s team has identified three key locations tied to Reyes’s operation. A shipping warehouse in Kowloon, a high-rise downtown, and a private airfield on the outskirts of the city. We’ll hit all three simultaneously.”

“And Reyes?” I ask, my heart pounding at the thought of finally confronting the man who’s caused so much destruction.

Dominic’s jaw tightens. “If he’s there, we take him down. But we don’t move recklessly. This has to be surgical.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “What do you need me to do?”

His gaze softens, and for a moment, the unrelenting drive in his expression gives way to something warmer. “Stay close. Keep your head down. Let me handle Reyes.”

I want to argue, to insist that I’m capable of holding my own, but I know better. This isn’t about pride—it’s about survival.

The streets of Kowloon are eerily quiet as we approach the warehouse, the black SUV blending seamlessly into the shadows. Dominic sits beside me, his posture tense but controlled. Adrian’s voice crackles through the comms, relaying updates from the other teams.

“Team One is in position,” Adrian says. “No movement at the airfield yet.”

“Team Two, ready at the high-rise,” another voice chimes in.

Dominic adjusts his earpiece. “Stay sharp. Reyes won’t make this easy.”

The SUV rolls to a stop, and Dominic steps out first, scanning the area with a predator’s precision. I follow close behind, keeping my footsteps light as we move toward the side entrance of the warehouse. The air is thick with the smell of diesel and saltwater, the faint hum of machinery vibrating through the ground.

Inside, the warehouse is a labyrinth of shipping containers and loading equipment, the shadows stretching long and ominous under the dim industrial lights. Dominic motions for me to stay behind him as he leads the way, his gun drawn and his eyes sharp.

“Adrian, we’re in,” Dominic murmurs into the comms. “Do you have eyes on Reyes?”

“Negative,” Adrian replies. “But there’s activity in the west quadrant. Could be his men.”

We move silently through the maze of containers, the tension mounting with every step. My heart hammers in my chest, but I force myself to focus, to match Dominic’s calm intensity. The weight of the flash drive in my pocket feels heavier than ever—a reminder of the secrets we’re carrying and the lives at stake.

As we round a corner, voices echo through the cavernous space. Dominic raises a hand, signaling me to stop. He crouches low, his movements fluid and deliberate, as he peeks around the edge of the container.

“Two guards,” he whispers, barely audible. “Armed.”

I nod, my pulse quickening as he motions for me to stay put. Dominic moves like a shadow, his steps silent as he closes the distance between himself and the guards. In a matter of seconds, he has them both disarmed and unconscious, their weapons clattering to the ground.

He turns back to me, his expression unreadable. “Let’s move.”

We press on, the voices of more guards growing louder as we approach the heart of the warehouse. Dominic’s movements are a blur of efficiency—taking down one man after another with a precision that leaves me both awed and uneasy. This isn’t just a fight for him; it’s a reckoning.

As we reach the central hub, my breath catches. Rows of computers and monitors line the walls, their screens glowing with streams of data. Men in suits move between the terminals, their expressions tense as they bark orders into radios.

Dominic’s eyes narrow. “This is it.”

“What now?” I whisper.

“We disrupt,” he replies, his voice cold and calculated. “Adrian, we’ve found the control center. Prepare for a data transfer.”

“Copy that,” Adrian says. “I’ll start the process remotely.”

Dominic moves to the nearest terminal, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he plugs in a small device. The screens flash briefly before going dark, the sudden loss of light drawing the attention of the men in the room.

“What’s going on?” one of them shouts, his voice tinged with panic.

Dominic doesn’t give them a chance to regroup. He steps into the center of the room, his gun raised. “Hands in the air. Now.”

The men freeze, their hands slowly rising as Dominic’s voice cuts through the chaos like a blade. “Nobody moves. Nobody breathes. If you try anything, you won’t like the result.”

I move to his side, my heart pounding as I scan the room for any sign of Reyes. But he’s not here. Dominic seems to realize it at the same moment, his jaw tightening as his eyes dart to the monitors.

“He’s one step ahead,” Dominic mutters, his frustration evident.

Before I can respond, an explosion rocks the building, the force of it sending us both sprawling to the ground. The air fills with smoke and debris, the sound of alarms blaring in my ears.

“Dominic!” I shout, coughing as I try to find him through the haze.

“I’m here,” he calls back, his hand finding mine and pulling me to my feet. “We have to move. Now.”

The warehouse is chaos, the air thick with smoke and the sound of gunfire echoing through the space. Dominic leads me through the maze of containers, his grip on my hand unyielding as he navigates the chaos with unrelenting focus.

Adrian’s voice crackles through the comms. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“We’re fine,” Dominic replies, his voice sharp. “But Reyes isn’t here. He’s baited us again.”

“Pull back,” Adrian says. “The other teams are reporting movement at the airfield. It could be him.”

Dominic curses under his breath but doesn’t argue. “We’re on our way.”

We burst out of the warehouse into the cold night air, the sound of sirens growing louder in the distance. The SUV is waiting for us, its engine running, and Dominic all but shoves me into the passenger seat before climbing in after me.

“Drive,” he orders, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

The vehicle peels away from the warehouse, the lights of Hong Kong blurring past as we speed toward the airfield. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, the adrenaline coursing through me like a drug.

“We’ll get him,” Dominic says, his voice low but resolute. “This isn’t over.”

I nod, my fingers gripping the edge of the seat. He’s right. Reyes may have slipped through our fingers again, but the game isn’t finished.

Not yet.