"Elena, whatever you do, don't look him in the eyes."
The warning echoed in her mind as she stepped into the golden glow of the Vale Tower penthouse. But it was too late.
She'd already locked eyes with Nicholas Vale—and it felt like stepping into a fire she couldn't escape.
The room buzzed with low jazz, laughter soaked in champagne, and the scent of wealth: oud, cigar smoke, and cold steel. Glass walls showcased the city's heartbeat from forty stories high—flashing lights, honking horns, and people rushing to destinations that suddenly seemed meaningless in comparison to the man standing ten feet in front of her.
He hadn't noticed her yet. Good.
Elena Carter tilted her chin and walked into the lion's den with a tray of champagne, the thin stemware trembling slightly in her hand. She wore black from neck to ankle—caterer's uniform, forgettable. That was the point. She needed to be invisible until the exact moment she wasn't.
Somewhere inside this room stood the man who, directly or indirectly, had cost her everything.
Kate.
Her sister had disappeared eighteen months ago during an elite internship at Vale Technologies—top of her class, brilliant, proud, unstoppable. Then nothing. Not a call. Not a message. Just silence and a closed investigation. Nicholas Vale had said nothing publicly. His company stonewalled her family. Everyone told Elena to move on.
But Elena had uncovered something—something hidden in the metadata of one of her sister's last encrypted journal entries.
"Vale," it read.
Just that.
It was enough.
"Elena," Ava's voice whispered through her comm earpiece. "Target has moved to the east terrace. Ten-minute window. Don't screw this up."
She didn't respond. She couldn't afford the tremble in her voice.
As she neared the glass doors of the terrace, she passed clusters of moguls, influencers, and board members. Most were too drunk on power or champagne to notice her. But one man did.
Nicholas Vale turned.
Their eyes met.
And the world rewrote itself in one breathless second.
He wasn't the distant, ruthless figure she expected. Up close, he was all contradictions—elegant and raw, calm yet volatile. His tailored suit clung to him like skin, but his posture betrayed no effort to impress. His hair was slightly tousled like he'd been running his hands through it. And those eyes—icy blue, unreadable—settled on her like they'd seen her before.
He stepped closer.
"Elena Carter," he said, as if tasting the name. "You're far from where you belong."
Her blood turned to ice.
"How do you know my name?" she asked, trying to play dumb.
A slow, haunting smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I make it my business to know everyone who walks through my door. Especially the ones who lie to get in."
The tray shook in her grip.
"I'm not here to cause trouble," she said quietly.
"But you're not here to serve drinks either." He stepped past her, hands in his pockets, walking toward the glass edge of the terrace where the city glittered below. "You're here for answers."
Elena followed him instinctively, adrenaline pulsing through her veins.
"Tell me what happened to my sister."
Nicholas didn't turn. "You're assuming something happened."
"She vanished. No trace. And everyone in your company acts like she never existed."
He exhaled slowly, finally glancing at her over his shoulder. "Kate Carter was… a liability. Brilliant. But unstable."
"That's a lie," Elena snapped. "She was focused. Determined. She admired your work. She—she would never run off without a word."
"People can change," he said, voice eerily calm. "Especially when they learn things they weren't supposed to."
The air between them crackled.
"What did she learn?" Elena demanded. "Did she find out what you're really building behind those NDA-covered walls?"
He looked at her then. Really looked. And something in his expression shifted—from arrogance to something sharper. Caution.
"You should leave, Ms. Carter," he said. "This isn't a mystery you want to solve."
"She was my sister," Elena whispered. "I have to."
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Then Nicholas reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver USB drive. He placed it on the edge of the glass railing.
"She wasn't wrong," he said. "But truth comes with a price."
Before she could grab it, he swiped the drive back and slipped it into his jacket.
"I'll give it to you," he said. "But only if you come with me. Tomorrow. 8 p.m. My office. Alone."
"I don't trust you," she said.
"Good." His smile was ice. "That means you're smarter than she was."
A voice cracked through her earpiece again—Ava, frantic. "Elena, you need to get out now. Something's wrong. There's—"
Then silence.
Elena froze.
Behind her, the ballroom had gone dark.
Literally.
The music stopped. Lights flickered. Then, a loud electronic hum filled the space—low, menacing, and unmistakable to anyone who knew high-level tech.
A system breach.
Nicholas's expression changed instantly. "Someone just triggered a fail-safe."
"Was that you?" she asked.
He stared at her, deadpan. "No. But it wasn't an accident."
Suddenly, red security lights began flashing. Guests murmured in confusion. Glass doors were sealed shut with an automated hiss.
Nicholas pulled a sleek phone from his pocket, typed in a code, and looked up.
"They locked the system from the inside."
"What does that mean?" Elena asked.
"It means," he said, his voice lower now, "someone in this room doesn't want either of us leaving."
And then, just before the emergency alarms started to scream—
Nicholas turned to her and said, "Your sister wasn't the only one who disappeared. She was the first."