They turned to Zay.
He took a moment, fingers steepled beneath his chin.
"There's a building and construction conglomerate, Arkaline, with global reach, growing fast, especially across Australia, Asia, and Eastern Europe. Their HR executive? A ghost. There was no paper trail before two years ago. It uses a digital-only ID. No public appearances. No social media. No bio."
Leo's brows rose. "That's not normal."
"It's not; every complaint about the firm is traced back to one source. Aggressive policies, no-nonsense responses, strategic firings... It all reeks of her." Zay said. "Especially because of the way this 'executive' operates… It screams Sabrina."
"They've restructured entire departments with surgical precision. Fired a dozen top-level execs for moral violations — no public scandal, just clean removals. Staff turnover is low, morale is oddly high, and whistleblowers disappear without a trace."
Malik whistled low. "That does sound like her."
Zay nodded. "And then there's the language. Internal memos are cold, clipped, and exact. It's like they're written with a scalpel. Reminds me of the old days when she drafted our code protocols."
"So you think this 'HR executive' is Sabrina?" Leo asked.
"I think it's someone she trained. Or someone covering for her. But the aggression behind the moves? That's her. That's pure Sab. It's how she used to operate when she was two steps ahead of us."
Dante leaned forward. "You said no bio?"
"None. Just a name: N. Croix."
"Alias?"
"Guaranteed."
Leo raised a brow. "You're saying Sabrina is hiding behind a corporate desk?"
"I'm saying she runs the place like a ghost with a steel bat. And the way this HR ghost responded to a union inquiry last month? That rage? That precision? That was her. She's leading quietly from the shadows. It's how she stays safe."
"Or how she hides," Malik muttered.
Zay nodded. "Both."
Dante finally finished his sketch. He pushed the pad forward. The lady he had drawn was beautiful with a military stance and unreadable eyes. Leo leaned in.
"The face is worth remembering. She has been in the media before. If we can't find Sab, we find the assistant."
Zay studied the lines. "But she doesn't look random; she looks well-trained from her posture."
Dante tapped the edge of the page. "she had that posture. You know the kind. Silent. Watchful. Dangerous. I've worked with women like that. Or against them. I pegged her for military, retired."
The word dropped like a brick. Malik stiffened.
"You sure?"
"No. But my gut says yes. She looked like a well-trained assistant bodyguard—a shadow."
Leo whispered, "She replaced us.....with someone who wouldn't ravish her when down."
Zay didn't respond. He was already lost in thought.
Dante narrowed his eyes. "Explain."
Zay turned to Dante. "If you saw her, and I'm picking up her scent in this company, then she's not just hiding. She's rebuilding something."
Leo looked between them. "Or preparing for war."
The room stilled again.
"We need to find out what this L. Croix is working on," Zay said. "And if it's Sabrina, then we're already late."
The fire was back in the hearth that night, but no one sat before it.
Zay stood by the massive windows, the storm finally over. The others sat scattered—Dante with his sketchbook, Leo reviewing footage again, and Malik nursing a second glass of whiskey.
"I don't get it," Malik finally said. "If she's got kids, why's she playing corporate shadow queen?"
Dante answered without looking up. "Because she doesn't trust the world to raise them right. She's building her own version of safety."
Leo nodded. "Maybe even a new life. One where none of us fit."
Zay turned from the window. "I don't buy that. She wouldn't do this unless she had to. Sab always had reasons. Even if we didn't agree with them."
"I agree," Dante said. "She was always ten moves ahead. Which means… whatever she's doing now? It's about more than just survival."
"I say we split up," Leo offered. One of us goes to Sydney. The other digs deeper into the company and finds out about the N. Croix. Malik, you recheck old safe houses. See if she circled back."
"I'll take Sydney," Dante said without hesitation.
Zay nodded. "I'll dig into the company. I've got contacts who owe me favors. And if N. Croix exists, I'll find out what she's building."
They looked at Malik.
He sighed. "Fine. I'll go knock on ghosts. But I still think she doesn't want to be found."
"She may not," Zay said. "But I'm not letting her fade into a shadow."
"And I am going after the so-called assistant. Let's see where she takes me," Leo adds.
They raised their glasses, not in toast but in agreement—a silent vow. The Pact reforged in the face of everything they had broken and lost.
Outside, the clouds parted enough to let moonlight spill across the valley.
And far away — somewhere behind glass towers and aliases, behind data trails and false names — a woman sat in a dimly lit room.
She stared at a wall of photos. Maps. Notes. A plan. Her plan.
Her fingers hovered above a communicator. Then she paused.
Not yet.
But soon.