Madison hadn't slept.
The walls of her penthouse were covered in photographs, timelines, press clippings. Strings tied one image to the next like some obsessive detective case. But this wasn't just evidence.
It was art.
Her art.
"This isn't about Aiden anymore," she murmured, sipping her lukewarm tea. "This is about everyone who underestimated me."
The scent of lavender couldn't mask the staleness in the air too many nights burning plans to the bone.
Then her phone buzzed.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: They're tracing you. Clean your servers.
She stiffened. Not fear. Not yet.
But interest.
"So… they've started."
She tapped a few keys on her laptop, a stream of coded commands lighting up her screen. Then… one window blinked red.
Access denied.
Someone was already inside.
Her jaw clenched.
"You want to play hacker, Aiden?" she said aloud, voice venom-sweet. "Let's dance."
---
At Knight Corp
Aiden didn't wait for legal clearance. He had an old friend in cybersecurity from his darker business days — someone with no regard for "corporate protocol."
The flash drive Chloe gave him? A gold mine.
Madison's name appeared on files she was never supposed to touch, security footage, HR reports, Aiden's private messages.
It all traced back months before Zara ever entered his life.
"She's been watching me longer than I realized," Aiden muttered.
But it wasn't just Madison.
The deeper he dug, the more Camille's fingerprints showed up too press bribes, manipulation of investor rumors, fake reviews for Zara's brand.
And something darker…
A voice memo.
Uncovered from a deleted server.
---
AUDIO:
"You want her out? I can leak worse. I've seen him drunk before. Touching me? All it takes is the right angle, and Zara's done."
Camille's voice. Clear. Calculated.
Aiden froze.
Then his grip tightened around the edge of the desk.
He had defended Camille. Trusted her once.
But she was the knife… and he had handed her to Madison.
---
Meanwhile…
Zara was finishing a press call when Chloe burst into her suite.
"You need to hear this," Chloe said, tossing a recorder on the bed.
Zara listened in silence. Camille's voice spilled out, dripping with malice.
Her fingers trembled, but she didn't break.
Not this time.
"She planned it…" Zara whispered. "The seduction. The scandal. All of it."
"You didn't lose him," Chloe said gently. "He was taken from you."
Zara shook her head.
"No. He let himself go. But now… I'm done playing defense."
She rose, spine straight, eyes blazing.
"If they want war, Chloe… we'll give them a goddamn empire to burn."
---
Back at Madison's…
She watched Zara's latest interview play on mute. Strong. Unshaken.
"You're holding up better than I expected," Madison said to the screen. "Let's fix that."
She opened a folder labeled: ZARA BLAKE – FAMILY.
Inside: photos of Eliana. Even their father's death records.
One picture, in particular, was labeled in red:
"Hospital. March 17th. Eliana's accident."
Madison's eyes gleamed.
"Let's see how well you balance power when your past comes crashing in."
The gala shimmered behind them, a haze of lights and luxury, but Zara's footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor like a drumbeat of something deeper—something breaking free.
She leaned against the wall, one hand pressed to her chest. It wasn't just Camille's venomous glare or Madison's chilling words. It was something older, quieter, long buried under ambition and betrayal.
Her fingers brushed over the envelope Eliana had slipped into her purse that morning. "Found this while clearing Mom's drawer," Eliana had said with a shrug. "Didn't know if you'd want it."
Zara opened it slowly.
Inside was a yellowed newspaper clipping.
"BLAKE ENTERPRISE COLLAPSES — CEO PRESUMED DEAD"
Her heart skipped.
She stared at the grainy photo of a man she barely remembered. The last time she saw her father, he'd been walking out that same front door with tears in his eyes and silence on his lips.
But it wasn't just the article. It was the date.
The date didn't line up with what her mother told her. And beneath the article… was a handwritten note, unsigned.
"Sometimes death is the only way to stay alive. I'm sorry."
Zara's breath caught. Who wrote that? And why did she feel a deep, unmistakable pang in her gut when she thought of Aiden?
Footsteps.
She tucked the envelope away as Chloe rounded the corner, heels clicking and gown trailing like smoke.
"There you are," Chloe said softly, catching the look in Zara's eyes. "You okay?"
Zara didn't answer. Not yet.
Chloe tilted her head. "You're thinking of him again. Not Aiden this time your father."
Zara blinked.
"You always get that look like you're halfway between grief and fury." Chloe leaned beside her. "Maybe he's not as gone as you think."
Zara studied her, surprised. "You believe that?"
"I believe in questions," Chloe said. "And I believe in not letting ghosts write the end of your story."
Zara smiled faintly, the mystery still churning under her skin. But she folded the envelope close to her heart.
"I want answers, Chlo. Even if they hurt."
"You'll get them. Just don't lose yourself trying."
---