Rain lashed against the glass walls of Phoenix Tower as Adrian and Elena hurried down the dim hallway. The air was thick with the metallic scent of ozone and fear. Somewhere below, alarms pulsed faintly, distant but insistent, like a warning heartbeat.
The west wing had been under renovation for months. It was isolated, rarely visited, and supposedly sealed off from all but top-tier staff.
Which made the discovery even more disturbing.
Two security officers stood by the door when they arrived. Both looked pale, shaken.
One of them nodded stiffly. "Sir, we… we didn't touch anything."
Adrian stepped forward, his voice calm but cold. "Show me."
The guard hesitated, then opened the door.
The body lay crumpled against the wall, half-hidden behind a stack of covered equipment. The sterile white tarp couldn't mask the dark stain spreading beneath it.
Elena froze.
She had seen death before, too much of it, but the familiarity of this scene sent a chill through her bones. The careful staging. The precision. Whoever did this hadn't killed out of rage; it was a message.
Adrian crouched beside the body as the guard gently pulled the tarp back.
The man was young, mid-thirties, maybe. A technician.
But Elena's breath caught the moment she saw his wrist.
A thin black bracelet with a red insignia.
Her stomach dropped. The same mark that haunted her dreams.
Adrian looked up. "You know him?"
She forced herself to speak. "No. But I know who he worked for."
His expression hardened. "Crane."
Elena nodded. "He used these people as watchers. To follow, to listen. If one turned up dead inside your building, it means he's closing the circle."
Adrian straightened, jaw clenched. "Get forensics here. No one from Crane's division touches this."
The guard nodded and hurried off, relief written all over his face.
As soon as the door shut, Adrian turned to her. "Tell me everything."
Her eyes flicked to the cameras in the corner. "Not here."
They met in the basement garage, where the hum of distant traffic muffled their voices. Adrian leaned against his car, hands buried in his pockets. His tie was gone, his shirt sleeves rolled up, a man who looked both exhausted and on the edge of war.
Elena paced in front of him, trying to steady her thoughts.
"Five years ago," she began, "Crane's men set the explosion that killed my team. It wasn't an accident. We were developing an encryption system, something that could expose offshore financial routes. Your father suspected Crane, but before he could act, everything burned."
Adrian's gaze darkened. "You were the only survivor."
"I shouldn't have been," she said quietly. "Someone pulled me from the wreckage before the second blast. I woke up in a hospital under a false identity, and an ultimatum. Disappear, or die."
"Who gave the order?"
She shook her head. "I never saw his face. But I know his voice. Cold, precise, like someone who'd practiced emotion out of himself."
Adrian pushed off the car. "And you think Crane's behind all this?"
"I know he is. And if that dead man was one of his, it means he's losing control. Someone inside his circle is talking, and Crane's cleaning house."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Then we find that leak before he does."
Elena hesitated. "There's more. The message I got earlier; the one that said they're already inside, it wasn't from Ryan."
Adrian looked at her sharply. "Then who?"
"I don't know. But whoever it was, they had access to Phoenix's internal relay system. That means they're not outside the company… they're already here."
Adrian's face hardened, shadows pooling under his eyes. "Then we can't trust anyone."
Later that night, Elena sat alone in her apartment, staring at the rain tracing patterns down the glass. Her body ached with exhaustion, but her mind refused to rest.
The image of the dead technician replayed behind her eyelids; the insignia, the mark she'd hoped never to see again.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Her heart leapt. She reached instinctively for the small taser in her drawer, then peered through the peephole.
Adrian.
She opened the door slowly. "You shouldn't be here."
He stepped inside without waiting for permission, his voice low. "Neither should you."
"I mean it, Adrian. Crane watches everyone close to me."
"I don't care."
He closed the door behind him and turned to face her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes, they burned with something raw, something unguarded.
For a long moment, they just stood there, the storm outside echoing the one between them.
Finally, he spoke. "You think I can just walk away after tonight? After seeing you alive? After realizing everything I thought I lost is standing right in front of me?"
Her voice trembled. "This isn't about what you lost."
"Then what is it about?" he demanded. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you came back just to bleed all over again."
She turned away, blinking back tears. "You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to drag you into the same fire that nearly killed me?"
He stepped closer, his hand brushing her shoulder. "Then why come back at all?"
Her voice cracked. "Because I had to know if it was worth it. If you were worth it."
The words hung between them; fragile, electric.
Adrian's breath hitched. For the first time, the anger drained from his voice. "You already know the answer."
Elena's lips parted, but before she could speak, the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then — darkness.
The room plunged into shadow.
Adrian moved instantly, pulling her behind him as the emergency lights kicked in, washing everything in a dull red glow. Somewhere in the hall, a door slammed.
Elena's pulse raced. "They found me."
Adrian's eyes swept the room. "Get your phone, we're leaving".
A small crack split the silence, the unmistakable sound of glass breaking.
Then, from the window, a voice; calm, cold, and familiar.
"You should've stayed dead, Elena."
The shadow stepped through the shattered window; a tall man in a black coat, his face hidden beneath the hood. In his hand, a gun glinted faintly under the red light.
Adrian reacted first. He shoved Elena aside, reaching for the metal lamp on the table. The man fired once, the shot shattering a mirror behind them.
"Adrian!" she screamed.
He ducked behind the couch, dragging her with him. The intruder moved closer, methodical, unhurried.
"You always were too brave for your own good," the voice said, tilting his head toward Elena. "They told me to bring your body this time. No fire, no witnesses."
Adrian's jaw set. "You'll have to go through me first."
The man smiled beneath the hood. "That's the plan."
He aimed again.
But before he could fire, Elena hurled the taser straight at him. It struck his arm, jolting him backward just long enough for Adrian to rush forward. The two collided, crashing against the wall in a blur of motion.
The gun skidded across the floor. Adrian grabbed it, kicked the man back, but before he could aim, the intruder darted through the broken window and vanished into the storm.
Elena ran to the window, peering into the night. Nothing but rain.
Her hands trembled. "He's gone."
Adrian exhaled, still holding the gun. "Not for long."
He turned to her, his face pale, his shirt streaked with blood, not his, but close enough to send a spike of fear through her.
"You're bleeding," she whispered.
He shook his head. "Not much."
But she was already reaching for the first-aid kit, her hands shaking as she pressed a cloth to the small cut along his arm.
He caught her wrist gently. "Elena."
She looked up, eyes wide. "What?"
His voice dropped, softer now. "We're past pretending this is just about survival."
Her breath caught, "Adrian".
He leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers. "You're not alone anymore."
For the first time in years, she let herself believe it.
Outside, the storm raged on.