The morning after the voice on the phone still echoed in Liam's mind.
Not the ghost you're hunting. But close enough.
He hadn't told Vivian yet. Not everything. Not the tone. Not the implication that whatever was coming wasn't just about Evelyn. Or Graham. It was about him about something he might have overlooked. Years ago.
In the executive suite, Charlotte moved like she hadn't slept. She probably hadn't. Tabs open across three screens. Her fingers kept twitching at her coffee mug but never lifted it.
"We're narrowing the second actor's identity," she said. "Facial recognition gave us a few solid hits. No name yet, but… he's not random. This guy's been in the background of at least two Ashford deals in the past. Always under a different name."
Vivian stood by the window, arms crossed, phone in her hand like she couldn't put it down like she was waiting for a call she couldn't miss.
"I checked in with my aunt," she said quietly. "Daniel's okay. A little restless. He asked when he can come home."
Liam turned to her. "What did you say?"
She gave a tired smile. "That soon isn't the same as now."
Charlotte glanced over. "Has there been any other movement near their building?"
"Nothing since yesterday. But we're not taking chances. I'm arranging another move, this time through a private contact. Off-grid."
Liam nodded. "Good. He stays safe. No matter what."
Vivian let out a slow breath, trying to hold it together. But the cracks were starting to show small, sharp, collecting behind her eyes. "He drew a picture last night," she said after a pause. "Of the three of us. Standing outside Ashford Tower. The sun was out. No guards. No shadows."
Neither of them spoke.
Then Charlotte's voice cut through. "I think I know who our second actor is."
Both Liam and Vivian turned sharply.
She brought up a paused security feed a moment from an airport last week. The younger man beside Graham.
"We've been looking for someone new," Charlotte said. "But what if he's not new?"
She hesitated, then tapped a key.
Another image appeared older, blurrier, a photo from a company retreat five years ago.
Same eyes. Same frame.
But he was thinner then. Younger. Wearing an Ashford intern badge.
Vivian's jaw tensed. "He was one of ours?"
Charlotte nodded. "Briefly. Then disappeared. No resignation notice. No trace. We thought he ghosted."
Liam's voice was cold. "But he didn't."
"No," Charlotte replied. "He learned. He waited. And now? He's better. Smarter. Angry."
Vivian swallowed. "Do we know what he wants?"
Charlotte hesitated. "Not yet. But we know where he is."
Liam's eyes narrowed. "Then it's time we paid him a visit."
Charlotte hesitated. "I don't think it's that simple. He's mobile. No fixed address, no credit trail. He's smart enough to ghost without leaving a single footprint. But there's one thing he hasn't shaken"
She tapped again, enlarging a new frame.
"Every three days, like clockwork, he checks in at a café in the Lower East End. Same corner table. No tech. Cash only. But always the same time. That's our shot."
Vivian stepped closer to the screen. The man's face wasn't blurry this time. Crisp. Clean. Cold.
He looked… young. Not cruel, just sure of himself. A quiet storm.
"We know his name yet?" Liam asked.
Charlotte nodded once. "Aiden Vale. Former intern. He was in Ashford's analyst pool for a summer rotation. Top percentile, but reclusive. No close ties. His father was an investigative journalist vanished six years ago after exposing corporate fraud."
Vivian's breath caught. "Was it… tied to Ashford?"
Charlotte didn't answer immediately.
Then, quietly: "Possibly. But buried deep. Before your time, Liam. Before even mine. We'd need to dig."
Liam straightened. "Then dig."
Charlotte nodded and walked out, already making the call.
Vivian didn't move.
"He's coming for us," she said. "But it's not just revenge. It's something else."
Liam turned toward her. "What are you thinking?"
"I think we're the story now," she said, voice low. "Whatever happened to his father whatever Evelyn buried he's pulling it back into the light."
Liam exhaled through his nose. "Then we find him before he writes the ending."
Later that evening, under the pretense of a shareholder dinner, Liam and Vivian left Ashford Tower through the garage. Charlotte stayed behind, coordinating from the war room.
In the back of the black sedan, Vivian kept glancing at her phone. Not for texts. Just... for something.
"He's too young to carry this kind of weight," she said suddenly.
Liam looked over. "Aiden?"
"No. Daniel."
She tucked the phone away. "He shouldn't have to draw a world with no shadows. That's not a child's job."
Liam reached over, rested his hand lightly on hers.
"We'll get through this," he said. "And he will come home."
Vivian didn't answer. But she didn't pull away.
The café was quiet. Rain threatened overhead, thick clouds low and pressing against the skyline.
Liam stepped inside first. Vivian followed two steps behind, scarf tucked close, face partially hidden.
At the back, Aiden Vale sat alone, a paperback open on the table, untouched espresso cooling by his elbow.
He looked up as they approached.
No surprise. No startle.
Just a quiet smirk.
"I wondered how long it would take you," he said.
Liam kept his voice even. "You've been busy."
"So have you." Aiden tilted his head. "How's Evelyn these days? Still sharpening her knives with a smile?"
Vivian spoke next. "You used to work for us."
"No," Aiden said. "I used to believe in you."
Silence settled over the table like dust.
Liam pulled out a chair. "Sit."
Aiden didn't move.
"I know what Evelyn did to your father," Liam said, his voice low. "And I know why you're angry. But working with Graham letting him use you won't give you what you're looking for."
Aiden's jaw tensed, just slightly. "You think this is about revenge?"
"Isn't it?"
He leaned forward. "No. It's about correction. You built an empire on secrets and clean suits. I'm just pulling back the curtain."
Vivian's voice was steady. "Then help us take her down."
That surprised him. Just a flicker.
"You're serious?"
"She's already made her final move," Liam said. "And we're still standing. But if we want to finish this really finish it we need someone who knows where the bones are buried."
Aiden sat back.
Thoughtful. Still guarded.
Then: "I'll think about it."
Liam didn't push.
He just nodded. "You know where to find us."
They left the café without another word.
But as the door closed behind them, Aiden's hand moved to his pocket.
And pulled out a burner phone.
One missed call.
One name on the screen: E. Ashford.
And beneath it, a message waiting:
"If they offer peace, burn it first."