Lena had never been afraid of a blueprint.
Walls could be moved. Beams reinforced. Damage rebuilt.
But this wasn't architecture.
This was sabotage.
And whoever had filed the anonymous complaint knew exactly where to hit.
Her desk at the co-working studio was cluttered with file boxes, a laptop, three empty coffee cups, and a single post-it note:
"Start with who had access."
She traced her fingers down the list of names tied to the Kane House project. Interns. Engineers. Subcontractors. And…
Eli Morrison.
Architect. Reinhart Group. Assigned as a "liaison" to the project's early zoning consultations. Friendly. Persistent. Too persistent.
He'd asked her to drinks three times before she made it clear she wasn't interested. That had been two weeks before the complaint was filed.
Her jaw clenched.
She picked up her phone.
The bar was dim, sleek, and empty enough at this hour that Eli spotted her immediately. He looked surprised — but not nervous. That told her something.
"Lena," he said, standing. "Didn't expect to see you."
"I need to ask you a few questions."
His smile slipped. "Sure. Everything okay?"
"No," she said flatly. "You know it's not."
She dropped into the seat opposite him. "My license is under investigation. Someone filed a detailed complaint using internal files. Files you had access to."
He blinked. "Are you accusing me of something?"
"I'm asking if you did it," she said. "Because if you didn't, someone used your credentials. And if that's the case, I'd suggest you find out who — before your name gets dragged down with mine."
Eli swallowed. "Look, I wouldn't do that. I swear. But—"
"But what?"
He leaned in. Lowered his voice.
"I'm not stupid, Lena. Everyone at the firm knows Claudia's been watching you. Watching Alexander. I've seen her burn people for less than you stepping into his life."
Lena's breath caught.
"You think she's behind it?"
"I think she's capable of it," Eli said. "And I think she's using people like pawns. Me included."
She stared at him. "So help me stop her."
He hesitated — then nodded once.
"I'll get you access to the firm's internal server. If there's a digital trail, that's where it'll be."
That night, Lena met Alexander at his penthouse.
She hadn't planned to.
She just ended up there.
He opened the door the second she knocked. One look at her face, and he stepped aside without a word.
She walked straight into his arms.
"I have a lead," she whispered. "And I think she's left a trail."
Alexander didn't ask who "she" was. He already knew.
"I'll call my guy in cyber investigations," he said. "We'll find it. We'll make this right."
Lena shook her head. "I need to find it. This isn't your battle, Alexander. It's mine."
"No," he said softly. "It's ours."
She met his gaze.
"You really mean that?"
"I love you," he said — the words falling between them with the quiet weight of truth. "And I don't care how ugly this gets. I'm not walking away."
Lena's breath caught.
Then, for the first time, she said it back.
"I love you too."
The words felt dangerous. Sacred. Real.
She didn't know what tomorrow would bring. Whether she'd clear her name, or lose everything.
But in that moment, in his arms, she knew one thing for sure:
Claudia Reinhart had underestimated her.
Lena Hart wasn't just a woman Alexander loved.
She was a woman who had stopped breaking.
And started fighting.