Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds of Vance Tower, cutting clean lines across Adrian's desk.He hadn't slept. The coffee in his cup was cold.But his mind — sharp as ever — hadn't stopped turning.
"Origin confirmed: Ghost (E.W.)"
That single line from the trace report replayed in his head again and again.
Elena Ward — the one person who shouldn't have been helping him — was the one sending the files.Why?What was she trying to tell him? Or worse… what was she hiding behind the truth she fed him?
He closed the terminal window, eyes heavy but focused.If this was a game, it was time to stop reacting and start leading.
[Later – Ward Corporation, Executive Lounge]
Elena sat with her back to the window, reviewing a report. The rain had stopped, but the air outside was still heavy, humid — like a warning before another storm.
When the door opened, she didn't look up right away."I said I didn't want to be disturbed."
"Good thing I'm not one of your employees," came Adrian's voice.
Her head lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by composure."Well," she said lightly, closing the folder, "you've developed a habit of showing up uninvited."
"I've learned that invitations usually come with conditions," he replied, walking in.
"Depends on who's hosting," she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her. "Coffee?"
He shook his head. "Answers."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Elena leaned back, studying him. "Answers to what, exactly?"
"To why Ward Corporation's private terminals are sending me encrypted data about my father's death."
Her smile didn't fade — if anything, it softened. "You traced it."
"You expected me to," he said quietly. "You wanted me to find out."
She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "And what if I did?"
"Then tell me why."
Elena sighed, standing slowly, walking to the window. The skyline glittered below, but her reflection looked fractured in the glass."Because truth," she said softly, "is the only currency you haven't tried to buy yet."
He frowned. "That's not an answer."
"No," she said, turning to face him. "It's a warning."
Adrian studied her — the cool confidence, the faint tremor in her voice. Something had shifted.She wasn't trying to manipulate him this time. She was afraid.
"Your father," she said after a moment, "wasn't supposed to die. My father didn't order it — he covered it up. Someone else did."
"Who?" Adrian asked, voice low.
Her eyes darkened. "Someone higher. Someone who doesn't appear in the ledgers. You're not the only one being watched."
"Watched by who?"
Before she could answer, her office door clicked open — her assistant, pale and nervous.
"Miss Ward… the board meeting's been moved. They said it's urgent."
She nodded. "I'll be there in five minutes." Then, without turning back, she said softly to Adrian,
"Whatever you're planning, be careful who you trust — including me."
Adrian left without a word.
But as he walked through the lobby, the feeling of being followed pressed against his back like cold air.Every mirror, every reflection, seemed to stretch just a little too long.
By the time he reached his car, his phone buzzed.An anonymous message flashed across the screen:
"She's lying. The Wards didn't kill him. You did."
His blood ran cold.
"What the—" He stared at the message, but before he could trace it, the file auto-deleted. No sender, no metadata, nothing left but those seven words echoing in his mind.
He didn't notice the dark sedan parked across the street, engine idling. Inside, a man in a gray suit watched him through tinted glass, speaking quietly into a headset.
"Target's moving. No contact yet. Wait for confirmation."
Back in her office, Elena stood alone again.Her assistant's voice filtered faintly from the outer hall, but she wasn't listening.
On her desk, her terminal blinked — another message had appeared from an encrypted source.
"You've gone too far, E. Pull out before it's too late."
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long moment before typing one line in reply:
Too late was twelve years ago.
She hit send, locked the device, and whispered under her breath—
"It's already begun."