The wail of alarms still echoed in Emily's ears long after they had stumbled out of the LU Archives' reinforced corridors. Red lights had bathed the walls, pulsing in time with her thundering heart. The scent of burning circuits clung to the air, the memory of laser turrets snapping to life and drones whirring as they gave chase still raw in her senses. It was only Leonard's quick override of the biometric locks—his bloodline giving him five precious minutes of immunity—that had allowed them to escape.
Now they crouched in a disused maintenance tunnel that ran beneath the financial district, their breaths ragged, their bodies taut from adrenaline. Leonard's sleeve was soaked with blood where a shard of shrapnel had grazed his shoulder. He barely seemed to notice, his face pale but set with grim determination. Emily, on the other hand, could barely keep her hands steady. She clutched the slim bundle of stolen files to her chest as if it were a lifeline.
"Leonard," she whispered, her voice raw. "You need to tell me the truth. Now."
He looked up, shadows under his eyes, his jaw tightening at the tone. "Emily, we don't have time—"
"We don't have time because you've been hiding things from me!" Her voice cracked, emotion bursting through the veneer of control. "That journal, Leonard. Your handwriting. It listed my name. My name. Do you realize what that means?"
For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant hum of security drones sweeping the surface. Leonard's gaze dropped to the ground, and in that pause Emily felt the weight of betrayal sink deeper.
Finally, he said quietly, "It wasn't me. Whatever was written there, I didn't put it down. I swear to you."
Her hands trembled. "But it's your signature. Your style. Don't you dare tell me I imagined it."
"I don't know how they did it," he answered, desperation creeping into his voice. "But you have to believe me—I would never mark you for death. Not you." His good hand reached for her, tentative, as though even the brush of his fingers might shatter what fragile trust remained.
Emily pulled back, hugging the file tighter. Her mind warred with her heart—every rational bone told her that the evidence condemned him, but the memory of the way he'd shielded her during the escape whispered otherwise.
For a long time neither spoke. The tunnel pressed in around them, thick with tension. Finally, Emily drew a sharp breath. "I can't just take your word anymore. I need proof, Leonard. If you want me to believe you, then help me find the answers—all of them."
He closed his eyes briefly, as if bracing himself for a blow, then nodded. "Then we'll start with what you took."
Her fingers uncurled, revealing several crumpled sheets and a thumb drive. The files bore the LU crest, stamped with the mark of "Confidential – Board Access Only." Emily spread them out on the tunnel floor, smoothing the creases with shaking hands.
Most of the data appeared fragmented, as if cut from a larger ledger. But one section stood intact: columns of financial transfers, routed through obscure shell corporations across Asia and Europe. A name appeared again and again, like the ghost of someone refusing to be buried—Sanctum.
"What is Sanctum?" Emily asked, her eyes scanning the pages.
Leonard stiffened. "It's not a place you want to know about."
"That's not your choice anymore." Her gaze snapped to him, blazing. "If these funds are tied to Orchid, then Sanctum is at the heart of it. And I'm going to find out what it is, with or without your help."
The words seemed to wound him more deeply than the injury on his shoulder. For a long moment he said nothing. Then, in a voice low and reluctant, he murmured, "Sanctum was supposed to be a research facility. Off the books. My father oversaw the early stages."
Emily froze. "Your father? Alexander Lu?"
"Yes." Leonard's expression hardened, haunted by old memories. "He told me it was just medical advancement. A way to push humanity forward. But then he disappeared. Officially, they called it an accident. Unofficially…" He broke off, looking away.
Emily pressed the point. "Unofficially, what?"
Leonard's silence was answer enough.
The realization sank like lead in her stomach. This wasn't just about corporate greed or boardroom secrets. The roots of Orchid wound back through the very bloodline Leonard had been born into.
She turned back to the pages, her eyes catching on something odd. One ledger listed not only numbers but also initials. Names reduced to codes. Yet amidst the jumble, she found two words written in full: Isabella Qin.
Her breath hitched. Isabella's name glared back at her from the page, tied to transfers in the months before her death. And beside it, in red ink, a codename—Orchid.
Emily's vision blurred with rage and fear. Isabella hadn't been a victim of circumstance. She had been part of this labyrinth from the start.
"Emily," Leonard said, his tone urgent now. "We have to move. The patrols will sweep down here any moment."
But she barely heard him. Her fingers shook as she picked up another slip. It seemed blank, until she tilted it under the dim tunnel light. Words shimmered faintly—hidden in invisible ink.
Her pulse hammered as she traced the lines. The text emerged in fragments, but one line was clear: The next subject: Emily Lin.
Her blood ran cold. She nearly dropped the paper, her chest tightening with dread. Someone had written her fate long before she stepped into this nightmare.
And in the bottom corner, just faint enough to be missed, lay a signature. Familiar strokes. Leonard's name.
Her eyes snapped to him, wide with shock and terror. He was binding his wound, oblivious to what she now held in her trembling hands.
Emily's heart twisted violently. Was he truly her protector, or the architect of her doom? She couldn't tell anymore.
That night, when they finally reached the shadowed safety of an abandoned safehouse, Leonard collapsed into a fitful sleep, his features soft in exhaustion. Emily sat apart, the invisible-ink note clutched in her hand, staring at him through a haze of unshed tears.
Trust had been fractured, perhaps beyond repair. And as the moonlight crept across the floor, Emily realized one truth with chilling certainty: she was lying beside the one man who could either save her life—or end it.