2025-05-28 14:40:54
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108
The sun was barely up when Brent stepped out of his car and looked up at his newest building. It was tall, all glass and steel, standing above New York like a promise. Today, it wasn’t just a skyscraper. Today, it was hope. Brent walked inside, greeted by the buzz of voices. The lobby was packed. Tables filled the wide halls. Banners read: “You Deserve a New Start.” Volunteers handed out coffee and breakfast sandwiches. People lined up, nervous and excited. For many, it was their first real shot at a job. Brent’s team was everywhere. Jessica ran the sign-in desk, smiling, helping calm the nerves of people just out of shelters. Tommy and Lucy moved through the crowd, answering questions, pointing people to employers. Adam stood in a glass-walled office, eyes glued to his laptop, ready for anything. By nine, the job fair was in full swing. Brent walked the floor, shaking hands, telling everyone the s
107
The morning started with good news. The Phoenix Foundation’s shelters were packed with laughter and hope. Brent had just signed a $50 million donation—his biggest yet. The money would build new shelters, open kitchens, and pay for doctors and teachers. Brent felt proud. He looked at Hope’s drawing on his desk and smiled. For a moment, he let himself believe things were getting better. Then Jessica rushed in, pale and breathless, a file clutched in her hands. “Brent, there’s a problem with the new fruit drink shipment.” Brent’s smile faded. “What kind of problem?” Jessica swallowed. “Customs found something strange. A hidden panel in one of the crates. Inside… it’s cocaine. A lot of it.” The room went quiet. Everyone looked at Brent. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and stood. “Who packed the shipment?” he asked, voice steady. Tommy pulled up the records. “I
106
The sun was just coming up over the city. Brent sat at his desk, quiet, thinking. He had not slept much. Hope was safe, but the war was not over. The “big boss” was still out there. Jake Smith was still free. And now, Brent knew there was a mole in his own team. He called Jessica, Tommy, and Adam to the war room. The air was tense. Everyone was tired, but sharp. “We need to find out who the mole is talking to,” Brent said. “We need to trap them. We need to bring Jake down before he runs again.” Jessica nodded. She had dark circles under her eyes. “What’s the plan?” Brent smiled, but it was a hard smile. “We feed the mole a story. Something Jake will want. Something only the mole would know.” Adam looked scared. He was still shaken after being caught as a mole himself, but Brent had let him stay. He was h
105
It was just past dawn when the call came. Brent was in his office, nursing a cold cup of coffee and reviewing the new security protocols, when James rushed in, breathless. “Boss, it’s Hope. She’s gone.” Brent’s world stopped. Hope—just ten years old, the daughter of one of the Foundation’s first rescued workers, Tommy and Jessica.She was bright, brave, and always smiling. She called Brent “Uncle” and left him little drawings on his desk. Now she was missing. James handed over a phone. A distorted voice played on the message: “Walker, if you want the girl back, you’ll stop your raids. You’ll stop helping victims. Shut down the Phoenix Foundation or you’ll never see her again.” Brent knew that voice. Sarah. Always bold, always cruel, even from the shadows. He stood, every muscle tense. “Get everyone here. Now. Nobody leaves until we have her back.” The war room filled fast—Jes
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The morning was bright, but no one at the Phoenix Foundation felt calm. Sofia’s voice was sharp and steady over the speakerphone as she laid it all out for Brent and his team. “I’m telling you, Brent. This place is wrong. They’re calling it a charity, but it’s a trafficking front. I’ve seen the signs.” Brent leaned forward, knuckles white against the table. “Are you sure?” “Yes,” Sofia answered. “I went there undercover. They say they help women and kids, but no one ever leaves. The doors are locked. The staff are armed. And the CEO, Gregory Vance, keeps everything secret. I saw a girl slip a note under the bathroom door. It said, ‘Help us.’” Silence filled the room. Jessica looked pale. Tommy shook his head, furious. Brent’s voice was low but clear. “Where’s the location?” Sofia gave him the address. Brent scribbled it down, then nodded at Adam. “Get me everything on Gregory Vance. F
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The church was old, stone, and silent. Rain tapped on the stained glass as Brent’s custom Rolls-Royce pulled up at the curb. The car was deep black, polished until it shone like a mirror. Inside, Brent sat alone in the back seat, hands folded tight. His eyes were closed. He wore a simple black suit. He looked tired, older, but his jaw was set. When he stepped out, people turned. Some whispered, recognizing him. Others only saw a tall man with heavy steps, walking toward a funeral he wished he never had to attend. The whistleblower’s name was Daniel. He was only thirty. His family was there—his mother, sister, a few cousins. Some old friends from school. Daniel’s mother clutched a tissue in one hand and a letter in the other. Brent saw her glance at him once, her eyes red and raw. Brent sat at the back, head bowed. He listened to the priest speak about courage, about sacrifi
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