Simone was admitted to the maternity ward on the fourth floor. The room was small and painted a soft blue that was supposed to be calming but only made Damien feel more anxious.A nurse hooked Simone up to monitors. Wires and sensors tracking vitals that Damien did not understand. Numbers that beeped and changed with every heartbeat.The doctor came back an hour later with test results. Her face was serious and professional. The kind of expression that doctors wore when they had bad news to deliver gently."Your blood pressure remains elevated despite the medication we gave you. We are seeing numbers that concern me given how early you are in the pregnancy."Simone gripped Damien's hand. Her palm was sweaty and cold."What does that mean?""Stress-induced hypertension can lead to miscarriage or preeclampsia. Both are dangerous for you and the baby. You need complete bed rest and significant stress reduction."Damien almost laughed at the impossibility of it. Stress reduction. While cr

Damien stared at the email until his eyes burned. The words blurred together but the threat remained crystal clear. Come to Romania. Alone. Or we visit Emma's bedroom next.Below the message was an attachment. His hand shook as he clicked it open.A photograph filled the screen. Emma sleeping in her bed. Taken from outside her window. The angle showed her peaceful face and the stuffed rabbit she held every night.They had gotten past the security cameras. Past the FBI protection. Past everything that was supposed to keep her safe.Damien felt his stomach turn over. He barely made it to the bathroom before he threw up. Terror and rage mixed into something that burned his throat.He forwarded the email to Agent Torres at three AM. The agent called back within five minutes."I am already sending a team to sweep your house. Do not touch anything near Emma's window."The FBI arrived before sunrise. Six agents searching every inch of the property. They found boot prints in the flower bed ou

The words witness protection hung in the air like a death sentence. New identities. New city. Abandoning everything they had built over years of hard work and sacrifice.Damien felt his chest tighten. Simone's design firm, Emma's friends, their home, his career— all of it gone. Erased like it never existed.A few hours later, Damien called his brother."I need to think about this," Marcus said over the phone. His voice was shaking. "I need to talk to you first before I agree to anything.""Come here when you finish treatment. We will figure this out together."After the call, Damien sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. The weight of it all was crushing him slowly.Agent Torres arrived an hour later with news. He had arranged a meeting with the U.S. Marshals Service to discuss witness protection as a realistic option."I know this is not what you want to hear. But if Marcus testifies in a RICO case the entire family becomes high-value targets."The meeting was scheduled

Damien stared at Palmer through the phone screen. A board member. Someone who sat in meetings with him. Someone who shook his hand and smiled."Who?"Palmer pulled up documents on his laptop. Numbers and transactions filled the screen. Shell companies, Offshore accounts, and Money trails that wound through three countries."The forensic accountants found unusual transactions. Money flowing from a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands. The amounts match perfectly with the timeline of the breach."Damien felt his stomach turn. This was not just Amanda acting alone. This was orchestrated. It was planned and funded."How much money?""Two million dollars. Paid in installments over six months."Two million dollars to destroy everything Damien had built. To ruin lives and put his family in danger."The payments went to one of your board members' personal accounts. He tried to hide it but the SEC has forensic tools that can trace anything."Palmer turned his laptop screen toward the

People are going to die because of this breach. The words haunted Damien every waking moment. Soldiers, intelligence officers, and contractors— all exposed because his system had vulnerabilities.He could not sleep nor eat. The guilt sat in his chest like a broken glass.Larry had shown him the faces. Young men and women in uniform. Fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. Their deployment information was now in the enemy's hands because CloudTech had been compromised.Even though Hastings and Volkov were the ones who planned everything, Damien felt responsible. His company, his code, and his failure to see Gerald's betrayal sooner.He worked around the clock with federal investigators. The secure room at CloudTech became his prison. Eighteen-hour days reviewing logs. Identifying exactly what was taken. Cross-referencing stolen files with active military operations.Every name on the compromised list felt like a knife in his gut.Agent Torres brought him coffee at three in the morning.