The transition from "outsider" to "asset" happened so gradually that Alliana and Pat didn't notice they were drowning until the surface was out of reach.
For Alliana, it was the "Disappearance of the Displaced." The protesters who had been at the gates of the Manila resort didn't just stop shouting; they vanished from the internet. Their social media profiles went dark, their documents were flagged as forgeries, and their leaders were suddenly "relocated" to better housing in the provinces—housing funded by a Tenorio shell company.
She sat in her office, staring at a blank screen. She had saved the resort's image, but she felt like she had erased human beings.
The Midnight Meeting
A week later, Pat found Alliana in the high-rise gym at 3:00 AM. She was punching a heavy bag with a rhythmic, desperate violence. Pat looked even worse; his lab coat was rumpled, and the circles under his eyes were deep enough to hold shadows.
"I can't do it anymore, Alli," Pat whispered, leaning against the glass wall overlooking the city. "Timothy asked for the 'delivery mechanism' today. He didn't even hide it behind a metaphor. He wants the protocol I designed for saving toddlers to be used for a silent, untraceable toxin."
Alliana stopped punching, her knuckles raw and bleeding through the wraps. "I know. Stephen asked me to plan a 'Grand Opening' for a new resort in the Golden Triangle. We both know what that really is. It's a transit hub for Matthew's shipments."
They looked at each other—the Marketing Director and the Pediatrician. Two people who had entered this world to stay beside the people they loved, only to realize they were becoming the very things they feared.
"We have to leave," Pat said, his voice trembling. "Not just the family. The country."
"You saw what happened on the bridge, Pat," Alliana countered, her voice hard. "They don't let people leave. Especially not us. We know too much about the 'legitimate' side. We're the ones who make the blood look like wine."
"Then we make a move," Alliana said, a spark of her old fire returning. "A move they won't see coming because they think we're 'anchored' by love."
The Betrayal
Alliana began the "Pull." She started moving small amounts of the Resort's "Charity" funds—the ones Stephen didn't track closely—into an offshore account Timothy couldn't touch. Pat began falsifying his lab results, claiming the "delivery protocol" was failing, while secretly perfecting a way to wipe the research servers from a remote trigger.
But love is a double-edged sword.
Joie walked into the bedroom one night and found Alliana staring at a burner phone. The silence was deafening.
"What's that, Alli?" Joie asked. Her voice wasn't the voice of a lover. It was a cold tone of the Tenorios.
Alliana didn't flinch. She tucked the phone under her pillow. "Just a project for work, Joie. Go back to sleep."
Joie didn't go back to sleep. She waited until Alliana's breathing slowed, then she took the phone. She didn't need Timothy to bypass it; she knew Alliana's passwords. She knew Alliana's heart.
She saw the messages to Pat. The flight coordinates. The offshore account numbers.
Joie sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the burner phone feeling like a mountain. If she told Stephen, Alliana was dead. If she didn't, and they were caught, the whole family would fall—and Stephen would kill Joie for the betrayal.
The Choice
The next morning, Joie met Timothy in the surveillance room. He was hummed a tuneless song, his fingers dancing across the keys.
"Something's wrong with the St. Jude servers, Joie," Timothy said, his eyes narrowing. "Pat's data is looping. It's a sophisticated ghost-loop. Only someone who knows my coding style could have built it. Someone I've been... intimate with."
Joie felt the cold sweat on her neck. "Maybe it's just a bug, Tim."
"Don't lie to me, munchkin," Timothy turned his chair, his face a mask of cold fury. "Pat is trying to erase the research. And your girl? She's been moving funds. Matthew's 'cleaners' in the Cayman Islands flagged it ten minutes ago."
Stephen walked in, his presence sucking the air out of the room. He didn't say a word. He just laid two folders on the table. One had Alliana's face on it. The other had Pat's.
"I gave them a chance to be part of the future," Stephen said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "I gave them a purpose. And they chose to bite the hand that fed them."
He looked at Joie and Timothy.
"You have one hour," Stephen commanded. "Bring them to the Blue Marlin basement. If they aren't there by midnight, I'll send Matthew. and Matthew doesn't bring people back in one piece."
Joie looked at Timothy. Timothy's eyes were filled with tears, but his jaw was set. They were Tenorios first. Lovers second.
"Go get your doctor, Tim," Joie whispered, her voice dead. "I'll get the girl from the train."