Richard heard the sound before he saw him. A branch snapping. He turned.Marcus stepped out of the darkness, moving with the unsteady gait of a man whose body had simply decided it was done cooperating.Richard froze. "Marcus."Marcus tried to straighten. He couldn't. Blood soaked the left side of his shirt.Richard rushed toward him. "You're hurt."Marcus gave him a weak smile. "I've had better nights."Richard caught him before he fell, the weight of him heavier than expected, or maybe Richard's own arms were simply shaking too badly to hold much of anything steady right now. Lucas and Grant helped lower him against a tree. Margaret was already injured, but she pushed herself toward him."Where's Victor?"Marcus looked at her. "Still inside."Richard's expression changed. "You left him?"Marcus breathed heavily. "He told me to go."Richard stared at him. "What happened?"Marcus looked toward Blackridge. "They found us.""We know.""No." Marcus shook his head. "You don't."Richard cr

Westbridge looked different at night. Richard sat in the back seat of Grant's car, watching the building rise above the city, its familiar silhouette somehow harder to recognize now that he knew what it actually was.For three years, he'd walked through those doors believing he was just another employee. He had answered phones there. Filed documents. Delivered coffee. Watched executives make decisions in rooms he wasn't allowed to enter. He had once believed the building represented everything he could never have.Now he was looking at it differently. It wasn't merely the company his father had built. It was part of the machinery that had destroyed his family, and every window he could see from the car now felt like it was hiding something rather than simply reflecting the city lights.Richard looked at Grant. "Why did my father keep the seventh floor hidden?"Grant kept his eyes on the road. "Because some things couldn't be stored digitally.""So the evidence is physical.""Most of i

Richard stood at the window of Grant's office and watched the city wake up. Cars filled the roads below. People hurried toward buildings where they would spend the next eight hours pretending they knew exactly what they were doing. Businessmen carried briefcases. Executives stepped out of expensive cars. Employees entered glass towers without ever wondering who owned the buildings above them. Richard had spent three years doing the same thing. Walking into Westbridge. Keeping his head down. Doing whatever he was told. Being grateful for a salary that barely allowed him to survive. Three days ago, he had still believed that was his life. Now he knew better. The folder on Grant's desk contained enough information to prove that his father had controlled a significant portion of Black Group before his disappearance. More importantly, the ownership structure had never been cleanly transferred. Richard was still the legal heir. But being the heir and controlling the company were two ver

Cara sat alone in the café. She had chosen the corner table because it allowed her to see the entrance. Old habits. She had developed many of them since the gala. Checking doors. Watching reflections. Keeping her phone face down. Never sitting with her back completely exposed.When Lucas walked in, she immediately knew something had happened. He looked tired."You're late."Lucas sat opposite her. "Traffic.""That's a lie."He sighed. "Yes."Cara looked away. "How is Richard?""Alive."She closed her eyes briefly. That answer hurt more than she expected."How is he really?""Different."Cara nodded. "I figured."Lucas studied her. "You need to talk to him.""I know.""But?""I'm not ready.""Richard isn't waiting for you."Cara looked at him. "I know."Silence.Then Lucas placed a file on the table. "Marcus wants you to see this."Cara stared at it. "Why?""He thinks you know something."She swallowed. "I do."Lucas waited.Cara opened the file. Inside were copies of financial transfe

Richard had imagined his first real meeting with Sophia differently. He had imagined it happening inside a boardroom. Maybe surrounded by lawyers. Maybe while Black Group executives watched him reclaim his father's empire.Instead, he was sitting in a small café with a cheap cup of coffee in front of him while his phone displayed three missed calls from lawyers.Sophia sat across from him. She looked at the coffee. Then at him. "You're not drinking it."Richard glanced down. "I forgot it was there.""You're distracted.""Yes.""Because you lost."Richard looked at her. "People usually say 'because things didn't go according to plan.'""I don't."Richard almost smiled. "I noticed."Sophia leaned back. "Your company is bleeding.""It's not my company yet.""Fair."She tapped her tablet. "The board has moved three assets.""I know.""They're hiding the money.""I know.""They're using legal structures designed to make tracing ownership difficult.""I know."Sophia raised an eyebrow. "You