Nikolai’s next move was impulsive, personal, and dangerous. He didn’t strike at companies or markets this time—he struck where he thought Andrea and Gracie were weakest: the people they trusted.Late at night, a secure alert lit up Andrea’s phone. It was from Elena.“Something’s wrong,” her message read. “Nikolai’s made it physical. One of Gracie’s oldest contacts—someone who’s been quietly helping her—is in danger. I have partial intel on the location.”Andrea’s hand tightened around the phone. “How fast can you get me full coordinates?”“Thirty minutes, maybe less,” Elena replied.Andrea didn’t hesitate. Gracie’s hand found his, her grip firm, almost demanding calm. “He wants to make this personal,” she said, eyes locked on his. “But we won’t let him.”Chloe and Anastasia were already mobilizing the estate’s private security. Every resource they could spare was being funneled into tracking Nikolai’s operatives in real time.Thirty minutes later, Andrea, Gracie, and a small, trusted

Andrea stood unmoving before the central display as multiple news channels fought over the same breaking story. Governments were denying involvement. Corporations were issuing hollow statements. Investors were pulling capital in waves that rippled across global exchanges.And still, none of it mattered to him.Because none of it told him where Anastasia was.Gracie stood beside him, close enough that he could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing. She had changed since the archive release. The hesitation she once carried had hardened into something deliberate, something unbreakable.“Elena found something,” she said quietly.Andrea turned.Elena stood at the far end of the room, her face pale but focused, fingers trembling slightly as she pulled up satellite overlays and property registries layered across decades of hidden transactions.“I cross-referenced the five safe houses,” Elena said. “Four are burned. Either abandoned or publicly exposed within the last six hours.”And

Laura finished the last page and closed the file with deliberate care, as if sealing something alive inside it. The room she occupied was sparse, anonymous by design, but her presence bent it anyway—every movement precise, every breath measured. Nikolai had given her access expecting leverage.What he had handed her instead was context.“So that’s what you were protecting,” she murmured, eyes flicking back to a single paragraph she had memorized already. Not the deals. Not the money. The choice.A screen across the room lit up.Nikolai’s face appeared, older, sharper, watching her the way one watches an unstable asset.“You understand now,” he said.Laura smiled faintly. “I understand why Andrea can’t win your way.”“And yet he’s trying,” Nikolai replied. “Fire instead of silence. Bold. Emotional.”“Desperate,” she corrected. “And that makes him dangerous.”Nikolai leaned forward. “Then help me end it.”Laura tilted her head. “No.”The word landed heavier than any refusal he’d heard i

Andrea didn’t move from the window. The city stretched beneath him, lights flickering like nerves exposed, every street, every building a testament to what had just been revealed. For hours, he stood there, listening to the quiet hum of aftermath—the low vibration of a city recalibrating itself without instructions, without orders, without lies to cling to.Gracie joined him silently, leaning her head against his shoulder. “It’s not over,” she said softly. “Not by a long shot.”“I know,” Andrea replied. His hands clenched slightly at the railing. “He’s smart. Patient. He’s already calculating the next move.”Elena appeared behind them, still monitoring the alerts streaming across her devices. “He’s moving fast,” she said. “I’ve traced multiple dormant channels lighting up again. He’s reactivating contacts we didn’t even know existed.”Andrea’s jaw tightened. “Every one of those contacts is a liability now. If he moves on them, people die.”Laura stepped into the room, calm as ever, ye

He stared at the screen for a long moment before lifting it. The number was blocked, but the channel wasn’t. Old encryption. Pre-modern. The kind used when you didn’t want records—only witnesses.He accepted the call without putting it to his ear.“Speak,” he said.Nikolai’s voice came through smooth, almost amused. “You’re moving faster than I expected.”Gracie stiffened but didn’t interrupt. Everyone in the room froze, listening.“You took my mother,” Andrea replied evenly. “This is where you stop.”A soft exhale on the other end. “No. This is where you learn.”Andrea’s fingers curled against the desk. “You’ve already lost. The files are live. The world is watching.”“Yes,” Nikolai said. “And you think that makes you powerful.”Andrea said nothing.“You mistake exposure for control,” Nikolai continued. “Truth doesn’t liberate people. It terrifies them. They will look for someone to blame. And when they do…” A pause. “…they will look at you.”Andrea finally smiled. It wasn’t warm.“T