Amara's POV
Her knees buckled, but she didn't fall.
She couldn't afford to-not now. Not when she knew he was watching.
The drive was gone.
Her old apartment had been entered.
And somehow, Cruz had taken a photo of her from across the street-sent it to Damian without a word.
That silence said everything.
"Too late."
But too late for what?
Amara looked at Damian. He stood by the window, back tense, jaw clenched like a man holding back a war.
"He wants to scare you," she said quietly. "But I won't let him break me."
Damian turned. His eyes locked on hers. "He's not just trying to scare you, Amara. He's setting you up."
"For what?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he picked up his phone and typed a command to his private intelligence team.
Then he turned to her. "We're done waiting for his next move."
---
Damian's POV
Three hours later, he sat in the control room below Knight Tower-deep underground, far from the media and the boardrooms.
The stolen USB had contained more than secrets-it had access codes, names, proof of investments... and silent partners.
People who would burn if the wrong hands exposed them.
And now, Cruz had it.
But Damian had something else.
A copy. Hidden. Split into fragments.
And the final piece? Stored in the Knight Tower mainframe-unreachable unless someone had a key.
A biometric key.
His.
Suddenly, one of his team rushed in.
"Sir, we intercepted an email."
He took the tablet and scanned it quickly.
It was sent to a news agency overseas.
And it had Amara's name all over it.
---
Amara's POV
"What's in the email?" she asked as Damian returned, jaw rigid.
He handed her the tablet. Her eyes scanned the message. And then... her hands began to shake.
It was a full write-up. A false article-framed like an exposé.
"Daughter of Martin Cruz resurface in billionaire's bed. Is she the real mastermind?"
Amara gasped. "This is a lie!"
"I know," Damian said darkly. "But it's meant to ruin you."
Her voice cracked. "And you."
He nodded. "He wants us to destroy each other... before he even fires the final shot."
Amara closed her eyes, taking a trembling breath.
"Then let's hit him first."
---Damian's POV
He hadn't planned to drag Amara into the darkness he operated in.
But she was already in the middle of it now-and Cruz made that clear.
So if they were going to win this war, they had to stop playing like victims.
He activated a private security line and spoke into the receiver.
"I want a full background sweep on every known Cruz associate. Start with offshore accounts. Then trace whoever leaked that email."
Amara stood beside him, silent but fierce. Her arms were crossed, her chin high. He could see the storm in her eyes.
She wasn't scared anymore.
She was angry.
"Give me something to do," she said quietly.
Damian looked at her. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "I know how Cruz thinks. And I remember names. I can help."
He didn't hesitate. "Good. Come with me."
---
Twenty Minutes Later – Knight Tower Archives
They walked down a long corridor of glass and steel until they reached a security door with no handle-just a fingerprint scanner.
Damian pressed his thumb.
The door clicked open.
Inside was a private war room-screens, files, encrypted archives.
"Welcome to the part of Knight Industries no one talks about," he said. "This is where we take people like Cruz apart."
Amara looked around, slightly overwhelmed. "You've been preparing for this?"
Damian nodded. "Since the day my father died."
He walked over to the table, pulled out a file, and handed her a photo.
Her breath caught.
It was him.
Martin Cruz.
From years ago-but unmistakable. Dark eyes, sly smile.
Below the photo was a note:
Alias: Marc Velasquez – Last known location: Istanbul.
Amara stared at it. "He changed his name?"
Damian nodded. "And his face, possibly. But people like him don't disappear completely. They leave trails."
She met his eyes. "Then let's follow it."
---
Later That Night – Surveillance Room
A new report came in. Damian read it silently, then handed it to Amara.
It was a single printed message pulled from a hidden server.
A warning.
> "Don't follow me, Damian. Or she won't make it to sunrise."
Amara's hand flew to her mouth.
Damian clenched the paper and said one word:
"Enough."
Amara's POV
The paper trembled in Damian's fist, but his voice was ice-cold.
"He just made a mistake."
Amara sat down slowly, trying to calm the panic pulsing in her chest. The message wasn't empty. Cruz had proven already he could get close. Too close.
"Do you really think he'll try something tonight?" she asked.
Damian turned to her. "He's watching us. That message means he thinks he's ahead of me."
He looked at the cameras monitoring every room in the building.
"He's wrong."
---
Knight Tower – 2:42 a.m.
Every floor had been locked down. No one could enter or leave without Damian's clearance. Still, Amara couldn't sleep.
She sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring at the city lights, her thoughts spiraling.
She thought about the past.
Her mom's voice.
The pain of being hunted.
The fear of being alone.
But not anymore.
Damian entered quietly, barefoot, two mugs of tea in hand.
"You need rest," he said softly.
She shook her head. "I just need this to end."
He handed her a mug and sat beside her, letting the silence settle.
Then he spoke. "I lost my father to men like Cruz. I built Knight Industries to fight back... not just with money-but with control. And I swore I'd never let anyone close again."
Amara looked at him, surprised at how open he sounded.
"But you got close," he continued, glancing at her. "And now he's using that against us."
She took a shaky breath. "So what do we do?"
Damian set his mug down.
"We set the trap."
---
Meanwhile – Unknown Location
A man sat in a dark room lit only by a monitor.
He leaned forward, watching the security feeds hacked from Knight Tower.
His fingers tapped rhythmically against the table. A shadowy smile curled on his lips.
"She still doesn't remember," he muttered. "Not everything."
He zoomed in on Amara's face from earlier that night.
Then he opened a second feed-an old video clip.
In it: a little girl, no older than 9. Her mother. Cruz.
And one line recorded clearly from the past:
> "If anything happens to me, give it to Amara. She has to know who she really is."
Amara's POV
She didn't sleep that night.
Even with security on every floor, even with Damian only rooms away-
She felt like eyes were still on her. Watching. Waiting.
Her mother's voice echoed in her head.
> "Amara... if anything happens to me, you have to find the truth. You have to find it before he does."
But what truth?
She remembered her mom's panic before they disappeared.
The way she destroyed papers, made strange calls, and whispered at night when she thought Amara was asleep.
What were you hiding from him, Mom?
She needed answers-and she had to start with what Cruz had stolen.
That USB wasn't just data.
It was a map.
---
Damian's POV
Damian stood in his private study, eyes locked on a digital map projected across the wall.
One blinking red dot. One signal left behind from the hacked USB. One location.
And it wasn't random.
"Why there?" he muttered.
The coordinates led to a private warehouse-registered under a ghost company that had no employees, no phone line, no actual business.
Just... silence.
He hit the intercom. "Have a car ready. No guards. Just me."
---
Outside Knight Tower – 4:03 a.m.
Amara waited near the entrance, holding her jacket tight around her. When Damian saw her, he paused.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"With you," she said firmly.
"Amara, this could be a trap."
"Good. Then let's walk into it together."
He stared at her for a long moment-then gave a single nod.
---
Abandoned Warehouse – Edge of the City
The place looked dead.
Rust-covered doors. Cracked windows. No lights. No guards.
Exactly the kind of place Cruz would hide something important.
Damian led the way, stepping over broken glass as Amara followed close.
They entered slowly.
Silence.
Then-
A light blinked on overhead.
Dim. Flickering.
And in the center of the empty warehouse was a single chair... with something placed on it.
A folder.
Amara walked toward it cautiously, her fingers trembling as she picked it up.
Inside?
Photos. Letters. A bloodstained paper with her mother's handwriting.
And a birth certificate.
But not hers.
It was a girl named Leona Marcella Cruz.
Amara's hands went cold.
"What is this?" she breathed.
Damian took the paper and looked at her, eyes wide.
"This is why he's after you..." he whispered. "Amara-this name... it's you."
---