On paper, Thea Morgan was Arkos Biotech's new PR and Compliance Manager — hired to steady a company clawing its way back from scandal.
In practice, her job felt like damage control on a sinking ship where everyone insisted the leaks were just "temporary pressure points."
She'd been there a month.
Today, however, Thea wasn't polishing press releases. She was digging.
A routine task, really: review old clinical trial records ahead of the board Question-and-answer session about Arkos's acquisition of Carrington Biomedical's expired patents. The deal had barely stirred the press, but investors were whispering. No one expected anything dangerous.
Just due diligence.
Then, she found the box.
It wasn't supposed to be in Arkos's archive. The printed label was faded; on the side, someone had scrawled in red ink:
Carrington Pharmaceuticals Trials / Phase III (Subcontracted via Arkos Biotech — 2015)
She didn't hesitate.
In the flickering basement archive, lit by tired fluorescents and the blue glow of her laptop, Thea opened the dusty file.
Sparse data.
Sloppy formatting.
Redactions where they always appear.
Another page. Another lie.
Page after page carried the same pattern: Carrington's logo at the header, but the fine print told another story. The experimental compounds had been licensed through Arkos under a confidential trial-sharing agreement.
Backdated. Buried.
Her breath caught.
For a moment she thought she was reading it wrong. Misunderstanding. But as she scanned the margins and handwritten notes, the chill deepened:
Trial methodology modified last-minute at the request of Arkos liaison, J.D.
Subject dosages increased beyond regulatory threshold, without CP's knowledge.
Results skewed and adverse events are concealed in Q3 report.
She flipped faster.
Then the final note, blunt as a verdict:
After fatal reaction recorded at Site B, Arkos pulled out. Carrington Biomedical absorbed PR and legal fallout. Recommend internal scrub.
Thea stepped back from the table.
They'd framed him.
Arkos had framed her father.
Her pulse hammered. She gripped the lapel of her blazer until her fingers ached.
This wasn't just a revelation. It was war. A quiet, corperate and deadly one. Fought in conference rooms and stock trades. And the fallout was still rippling ten years later.
Because if this got out, if someone tied Arkos to the 2015 trial deaths and corporate sabotage, it wouldn't be only fines or PR disasters. Stocks would crash. Executives could face prison. The Carrington name… might finally be cleared.
At the top of the modified protocols: a familiar signature—J.D. Jace Davis.
Her boss.
The man who'd hired her without question. Who had offered a role too good to be real. Who never asked for her last name.
When Carrington Pharmaceuticals collapsed nearly a decade ago, the media blamed it on missteps. Unvetted partners. Reckless trials. Her father, once a visionary, had watched his life's work dissolve in legal smoke and shame.
And she had believed it. Believed him to be ambitious, reckless, even guilty.
Until now.
Now, she stared at the proof he never got to show. Proof buried deep beneath the floorboards of the very company she worked for.
She didn't realize she'd moved until the storage door hissed shut behind her.
She leaned against it, shaking.
She wanted to scream.
Instead, she pulled out her phone.
Not to call her father, not yet. He didn't even know she worked at Arkos. Safer to keep it quiet for now.
She dialed the one person who had always stood by her.
The phone rang once.
"Thea?" Came the deep, familiar voice.
"Pa," she said, breathy. "I need you to check something. Quietly. It's about the Carrington Biomedical scandal. And about Jace Davis."
She hesitated for a moment. "I think.... I think Arkos was deeply involved. I think they set him up."
Silence on the line. Alfred spoke, voice low and grave:
"Then you've walked into a war that never ended. Send me everything you found."
IN ZURICH
The reception area outside the main conference hall was quiet, save for the soft clatter of keyboards and the murmurs of assistants stationed outside like chess pieces waiting for their next move.
Jace Davis stepped from the heavy walnut doors, adjusting his cuffs with the same precise calm he used for everything.
Jane Hayes moved toward him, tablet in hand. "Any problem, sir?" she asked, efficient and alert.
"Not really," he said. "We're almost done. Thought to come and check on you." His eyes scanned the hall, searching.
It could have passed as an offhand comment, but Jane knew better. He rarely did anything without purpose.
Three men emerged from the conference room. They moved together; deliberate, powerful and confident. As the trio strode forward, one man broke formation and veered toward Jace and Jane. The air changed.
"Mr. Carrington," Jace said, polite and controlled.
"Mr. Davis," the older man answered. He extended a hand; Jace didn't take it.
Jane blinked, unsure if she was witnessing a business disagreement or something more personal.
Then Raymond Carrington turned to Jane and offered the same hand.
She took it out of instinct.
It wasn't until her hand was wrapped in his that it hit her.
Raymond Carrington.
The Raymond Carrington.
She'd seen him on headlines, in company bios, in courtroom sketches from the Carrington Biomedical collapse. A myth and a warning in equal measure.
"And you are?" he asked, studying her like as if reading a file.
"Jane," she replied, suddenly aware of the dryness in her throat. "Jane Hayes."
Raymond's face registered nothing and everything at once. He let go of her hand with a small nod.
Jace saw it immediately. The flicker of recognition.
"Hayes," he repeated, as if the name unlocked something. "Any relation to Fallon Hayes?"
Jane froze. "She's my mother, sir."
"Ah," he said quietly, almost to himself, "of course."
He glanced at Jace. "Enjoy the rest of the conference, Mr. Davis."
He walked away to rejoin his companions. The words hit Jane like a small stone.
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
"What just happened?" she asked softly.
Jace looked at her, sharp and unreadable. He held his silence a moment too long, then said, quietly: "Someone I don't trust just took an interest in you."
He turned back toward the doors. "That makes my job harder."
Jane watched Raymond disappear down the hall. She felt, with an odd clarity, that something important had just shifted, like a weight settling into a place she hadn't even known was empty.