Victor's grasp on the burner phone tightened as he listened to the voice on the other end. "I was wondering when you'd call," the calm voice repeated.
"I need answers," Victor snarled, his pulse irregular. "Who are you? Why am I being dragged into this?"
A slight giggle followed, then a measured response. "You were always in it, Victor. You just didn't know it yet. Now, do what you're told, and you might just survive long enough to understand why."
Before Victor could press for more, the call went dead.
He cursed under his breath, raking a hand over his hair. He had two choices—run or fight. But with who? His head whirled with options, none of them good.
At Blackwell Enterprises, Grayson watched the CCTV stream as the two hooded people approached the off-site storage facility. His jaw clenched.
"Do we have their entry point?" he questioned Clara.
"They disabled three cameras before slipping inside through a service entrance," she said. "They know what they're doing."
Sarah tapped a finger against the screen, eyes shining. "They're not here to steal. They're here to ruin something."
Grayson turned to Clara. "Are our men in position?"
"Yes, sir."
Grayson's voice was cold. "Then let's see what they're after."
Inside the storage facility, the two intruders moved with measured precision. One pulled out a device and hooked it to the server racks.
"We have three minutes before the data is wiped," the person whispered. "Make sure no one sees this coming."
The second guy pulled out a gun and aimed it at the door. "No one gets in."
Unbeknownst to them, Grayson's security crew was already closing in.
Victor, meanwhile, had made his decision. He drove straight to a remote area and phoned another number, this time to someone he hoped would listen.
"I need a meeting," he stated as soon as the line picked up.
A long hush followed. Then, "Are you sure? You can't take this back."
Victor breathed sharply. "I don't think I ever had a choice."
"Then meet me at the old pier in an hour. And Victor? Come alone."
As Victor hung up, his uneasiness deepened. Every shadow looked like a menace, every passing automobile a tail. He was in too deep, and the only way out was through.
But he wasn't the only one being monitored.
Across town, a pair of acute eyes followed Victor's activities through a high-tech interface. A sneer curved on the observer's lips.
"He's taking the bait."
A second voice responded. "Good. Now, let's see if he survives the night."
At the old pier, the fog thickened, shrouding the dock in eerie silence. Victor stepped out of his automobile, surveying the darkness. A single figure emerged from the mist—a woman clad in a sleek black coat, her face shadowed by the weak light of the overhead lamp.
"You're late," she remarked, her voice crisp but familiar.
Victor's stomach sank. "It's you?"
The woman pulled down her cowl, revealing bright emerald eyes and a scar over her temple. "Hello, Victor. It's been a while."
A gun clicked behind him.
Victor's blood turned to ice. He turned slowly to find another figure—a male, partially obscured by a mask.
"Hands where I can see them, Victor," the masked man ordered. "You walked right into it."
The woman smirked. "You always were predictable."
Victor's mind raced. The woman standing before him wasn't just anyone—she was someone he thought was dead. Someone whose remains had been found three years previously in a burned-out vehicle collision.
"This isn't possible," Victor whispered. "You… you died."
She inclined her head, amused. "Did I? Or did I just become someone you weren't supposed to find?"
Before he could respond, a black SUV stopped behind them, doors flinging open. More figures emerged, guns drawn.
The woman moved a step closer, dropping her voice. "You want answers, Victor? Then you better stay up. Because all you thought you knew about this game… it was a lie."
Victor's heart hammered as he glanced at the woman before him—Isabelle, the love he had lost years ago, the one person who should not be standing before him. Yet, she was alive and sincere and looked at him with sorrow and urgency.
"Isabelle?" His voice cracked, astonishment coloring his tone.
She drew closer, her stare unwavering. "No time for questions, Victor. You're in danger. More than you realize."
A thousand thoughts swarmed in his mind, but before he could respond, a piercing crack rang through the night. A bullet zipped past, smashing the wooden railing beside them. Isabelle grasped Victor's wrist and pulled him into the shadows.
"Move!" she hissed.
They rushed down the desolate dock, Victor barely keeping up as his mind struggled to grasp everything. He had spent years mourning Isabelle, believing she had died in that blast. And now, not only was she alive, but she was also warning him of a peril he had yet to realize.
As they reached a black automobile parked at the far end, Isabelle wrenched open the door and shoved him inside before sliding into the driver's seat. The engine screamed to life, and she peeled away just as another bullet shattered the rear windshield.
"Who the hell is after me?" Victor demanded, catching his breath.
Isabelle's knuckles stiffened on the steering wheel. "You got involved in something more broader than you realize. Blackwell Enterprises isn't just a corporation, Victor. It's a front. And you were never supposed to witness what you saw."
His pulse soared. "What are you talking about? Grayson? The data wipe? The call I got?"
Isabelle shot him a glance. "Grayson Blackwell is simply one piece of a much wider puzzle. The individuals tugging the strings? They don't leave loose ends. And right now, you are the largest loose end of all."
Victor's gut churned. "Then why are you here? How are you even alive? I—"
She cut him off. "Because I faked my death to escape them. And now, you need to do the same."