She woke before her alarm, throat dry, body tight with unease, and simply stared at the ceiling while her mind replayed the files she had seen on the flash drive-those numbers that didn't match, the coded transactions, the offshore accounts, and the folder she had been too scared to open but opened anyway.

The photographs.

The emails.

The single, chilling document titled: "Necessary Eliminations."

She still felt cold from it.

Her apartment, normally a sanctuary of quiet order, felt like it had shrunk overnight. The air felt heavier, the walls too close. Even her favorite mug-white porcelain with a faded gold rim-looked out of place in her trembling hands as she made coffee she didn't drink.

She took a breath and tried to steady herself.

Think, Kira. Think before you do anything stupid.

But that was the problem: she wasn't sure what counted as "stupid" anymore.

Reporting the drive to the authorities seemed logical... on the surface. But logic didn't blend well with the type of information she had stumbled into. The files implicated major corporations, government officials, international movers-people with enough power to erase problems, erase scandals... erase her.

She wrapped her sweater tighter around her shoulders.

Her phone vibrated.

She flinched so violently she nearly spilled her coffee.

It was just a calendar reminder-her morning audit meeting at work. She exhaled sharply, the tension in her muscles refusing to loosen. She tried to convince herself that everything was fine, that she could just pretend yesterday never happened. But her body didn't believe it.

And neither did her instincts.

Something was wrong. Badly wrong.

She reached for the flash drive on the table, staring at its ordinary black casing. Small. Harmless-looking. The kind of thing people lost all the time or tossed into drawers and forgot about.

Except this one carried death.

She knew it.

She felt it like a weight in her chest.

Her doorbell rang.

She froze.

No one ever visited her unannounced. No neighbors popped in for a friendly chat. No friends dropped by on early mornings. Her social life was small, quiet, controlled.

The doorbell rang again-insistent this time.

Her pulse spiked.

Kira, calm down. It could be a delivery. Or maintenance. Or-

A third ring, followed by a slow, heavy knock.

Not friendly.

Not casual.

Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. She moved silently to her apartment door, careful not to step on the noisy floorboard near the kitchen. She peered through the peephole.

A man stood in the hallway.

Mid-forties. Clean-cut. Wearing a navy suit-expensive, tailored. His posture was rigid, professional. He didn't look like a delivery driver. He didn't look like maintenance.

He looked... official.

But not the comfortable kind.

His gaze was fixed straight ahead. No wandering eyes. No impatient shuffling. He stood there as if he knew she was watching from behind the door.

Kira's breath hitched.

He didn't knock again. He just waited.

A cold tremor rippled through her.

Don't open it.

Her intuition screamed.

Her brain agreed.

She stayed utterly still.

After a moment, the man glanced once down the hallway, then reached into his jacket.

Kira's heart stopped.

He has a gun-

But he pulled out a card instead. A business card. He slipped it under her door with deliberate precision. Then he stepped back, waited... and eventually walked away.

She didn't move. Not until she heard the elevator doors close.

Her body sagged with a shaky exhale.

She crouched down and picked up the card with trembling fingers.

It read:

"Corporate Compliance Investigations."

Noah Briggs, Lead Auditor.

But the back of the card was clean-too clean. As if someone printed it quickly. Cheap paper pretending to be expensive. No logo embossing. No hotline number.

Fake.

A shiver shot down her spine.

She backed away from the door, card still clutched in her hand.

Her instincts whispered bluntly:

They know. Someone knows you have the drive.

She swallowed hard, the reality sinking deeper. She couldn't stay here. She couldn't go to work. She couldn't tell anyone-not her supervisor, not HR, not even the police.

She was already being watched.

She grabbed her laptop, her phone charger, her wallet, and shoved them into her tote bag. Her movements were shaky, unplanned, but urgent. When she reached for the flash drive, she hesitated.

If she left it behind, she'd be safe.

If she took it, they'd keep coming.

She stared at it, her breath shallow.

And then she grabbed it.

I can't pretend I didn't see this.

I can't let this disappear.

Someone has to stop them.

But as soon as she stuffed the drive into her pocket, a sharp metallic sound echoed through the hallway outside.

She froze.

Another sound-this one unmistakable.

Footsteps.

Several pairs. Moving quietly. Controlled. Purposeful.

Her blood turned to ice.

She ran to her window and peeked through the blinds. A black SUV had parked directly in front of her building. Tinted windows. Engine running.

Waiting.

Her heart hammered wildly.

The footsteps grew closer.

They weren't trying to be subtle anymore.

Her breath caught. Her mind raced.

Back exit? Stairwell? Fire escape?

Her apartment only had one entry. One exit.

Unless-

Her eyes darted to her balcony.

It overlooked a narrow alley behind the building. A metal ladder for fire access hung just out of reach.

But if she climbed onto the railing-

If she stretched-

If she didn't look down-

The footsteps stopped in front of her door.

Silence. A dangerous kind of silence.

Kira backed away slowly. Her chest heaved. Tears burned behind her eyes-not of sorrow, but of adrenaline.

A sharp, hard bang rattled her door.

She gasped.

Another. Louder.

"Kira Hale," a male voice called. Low. Controlled. Wrong.

"We need a word."

She slapped a hand over her mouth.

They knew her name.

A metallic click sounded-the distinctive click of someone picking her lock.

Her heart lurched.

She spun toward the balcony, shoved the door open, and stepped into the cold morning air. The ground floor felt impossibly far away. The railing felt too thin, too slippery.

Behind her, her front door creaked as the lock gave way.

"Kira-stop."

She climbed onto the railing.

"Don't make this harder."

She reached for the metal ladder. Her fingers brushed it-too far.

The door burst open.

She heard multiple footsteps rushing inside.

Her pulse roared.

Jump, Kira.

She stretched again-desperate, panicked-and her fingertips finally hooked onto the bottom rung.

Voices shouted behind her.

She pulled.

The ladder slipped down with a metallic clang.

She clung to it as she scrambled downward, heart in her throat. Her arms trembled. Her breath came in harsh gasps. Her legs barely cooperated.

When her feet hit the alley floor, she didn't stop. She ran.

Behind her, footsteps thundered onto the balcony.

"KIRA!"

She didn't look back.

She didn't dare.

She sprinted into the street just as the black SUV's doors flew open.

Someone shouted: "There she-"

A second voice shouted something she couldn't understand.

A third voice boomed: "STOP HER!"

Her lungs burned. Her legs shook. Her vision blurred.

But she ran.

She ran because every cell in her body screamed that if she slowed down-even for a second-she would never stand up again.

She rounded the corner-

-and nearly crashed into someone.

A man.

Tall. Disheveled. Breathless as if he'd been running too.

His blue eyes widened when he saw her.

"Kira Hale?" he asked.

She froze.

The men chasing her shouted from behind.

The SUV engine revved.

"Kira," the man said urgently, "come with me if you want to stay alive."

Her breath hitched.

"Who-who are you?"

The man grabbed her wrist-not hard, but firm, steady.

"My name is Donovan," he said.

"And we're both in a lot of trouble."

Before she could speak-

Behind her, the black SUV screeched around the corner.

Donovan's grip tightened.

"Kira-run now."

And she did.

Donovan didn't let go of her wrist-not completely-but he eased his grip the moment they turned down the narrow path behind an abandoned storage building. His steps were quick but controlled, like he'd practiced escaping danger more times than he'd ever admit.

Kira stumbled once, breathless and shaking, her heart still trapped somewhere between terror and disbelief.

"W-wait-who are you?" she gasped. "How do you know my name?"

Donovan didn't slow down. "Because they were looking for you."

Her stomach dropped. "You were watching them?"

"I was watching you," he corrected, glancing over his shoulder with sharp blue eyes that missed nothing. "I had to make sure you were still alive."

The words hit her like cold water.

Alive.

Not safe.

Not unharmed.

Alive.

She dug her heels in, trying to jerk free. "Stop-just stop! None of this makes sense!"

He turned, and for a split second she saw the strain in his expression-fear, frustration, determination-before he schooled it back into something more controlled.

"Kira, you're holding something they will kill you for," he said quietly. "And they're not going to stop. They won't negotiate. They won't warn you again. They just didn't expect you to run."

Her breath shook. "You're talking like you know them."

"I do," he said simply.

A car engine growled in the distance. Voices echoed. Boots on pavement.

Kira flinched.

Donovan didn't.

He scanned the surroundings with strategic precision. "We can talk later. But right now-right now we move."

He tugged her forward again, pulling her deeper into the tangle of storage units and loading docks. She didn't want to trust him-but she didn't have a choice. The men from her apartment and the SUV were getting closer, their shadows stretching long against the concrete.

"How did you find me?" she whispered.

Donovan kept his voice low. "Because you weren't the only one who got a warning."

What?

Kira stumbled again. "You're not making sense."

He finally stopped.

They stood tucked between stacks of wooden pallets and a rusted dumpster. His face was close-closer than she expected-and for the first time she saw him clearly.

Messy dark hair.

Sharp jaw.

A faint scar along his cheek.

Clothes that looked slept in but expensive underneath the dust and frantic escape.

Eyes that held secrets like they were born with them.

"My name is Donovan Wolfe," he said.

"And my father owns the empire you're running from."

Her breath disappeared.

"I've been trying to expose him for years," he continued.

"And the flash drive you found-was never meant to reach you. It was meant for someone helping me."

Her mind blanked.

"You mean... you mean this is connected to-"

"The murders. The bribes. The offshore funnels. The mercenary teams he pays to silence loose ends." Donovan swallowed hard. "Yes, Kira. All of it."

Kira's hands trembled so violently she had to grip the edge of the pallet to steady herself.

"This is insane," she whispered.

Donovan leaned closer, his voice low, urgent. "But it's real. And you already know too much."

A faint metallic click echoed behind them.

Donovan's head snapped up.

He put a hand on Kira's shoulder, pushing her behind him. "They followed the SUVs. They're spreading out."

Kira's pulse skyrocketed. "Where do we go?"

"Not far." Donovan's jaw tightened. "But we have to move now."

He led her toward a gated loading ramp at the far end of the alley. The gate was padlocked. Kira's heart sank.

"We're trapped."

"No," Donovan muttered. "Just locked."

He pulled something from his jacket-a small metal pick tool. Kira blinked.

"You know how to pick locks?"

Donovan smirked faintly despite the danger. "My father may run a corporate empire, but I didn't grow up in boardrooms."

He slid the pick in with practiced skill.

Behind them, a voice shouted: "THIS WAY!"

Kira clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a terrified breath.

"Hurry," she whispered.

Donovan didn't answer.

The lock clicked open.

He grabbed her again and they slipped inside, locking the gate behind them. The path opened into a fenced courtyard behind an old mechanics shop. Donovan ducked under a half-closed garage door and motioned for her to follow.

Kira crawled in just as a dark silhouette appeared at the gate outside.

She sucked in a sharp breath.

Donovan lowered the garage door to a sliver, enough to watch but not be seen. They crouched behind a dusty car frame, hearts pounding.

Two men stood outside. Not in suits this time-dark tactical clothing, gloves, communication earpieces. Their posture was predatory, not investigative.

One of them scanned the fence line with a flashlight.

"We lost visual," he said into his comm. "But she's close."

The other man responded, "Orders are the same. No survivors."

Kira's hand flew to her mouth, muffling a cry.

Donovan touched her shoulder gently. "Stay low."

She nodded, trembling.

The men moved away, heading deeper into the yard.

Donovan waited. Listening. Measuring. Kira could almost feel his mind calculating possibilities-routes, threats, odds.

When they were out of range, he exhaled slowly. "We need to get you somewhere safe."

Kira whispered shakily, "Where? They're everywhere."

Donovan hesitated.

"That depends on whether you trust me."

Kira blinked at him. "How can I possibly trust you? You just admitted your father runs a- a- a criminal empire. And somehow you know what's on the flash drive. You know who these people are. You know my name. You even knew they were coming for me."

His jaw clenched. "Because I've been trying to stop him for years, Kira. And you-accidentally or not-just became part of the one chance I have to bring him down."

Kira stared at him, chest tight.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I expect you to decide if you want to survive the next ten minutes," he said softly.

Something about the way he said it-the raw honesty, the exhaustion behind it-made her chest ache.

But trust?

That was too fast.

Too dangerous.

Donovan didn't press her. He simply stood and offered his hand.

"Come with me," he said. "Or stay here and pray they don't check this building."

A distant engine revved again.

Voices called out.

Flashlights swept across the far wall of the mechanics shop.

Kira's breath hitched.

She took his hand.

Not because she trusted him.

Not because she understood him.

But because he was the only person who wasn't pointing a gun at her.

Donovan nodded once, relief flickering briefly in his eyes. He led her to the back of the shop, to a metal door half-hidden behind coils of old engine belts.

He pushed it open.

Behind the door was a narrow stairway descending underground.

Kira froze. "What is this?"

"An old service tunnel," he said. "Leads out beyond the block. I used it earlier to get close to your building."

"You were watching me before this morning," she whispered, piecing it together.

Donovan hesitated.

"Yes."

The air went cold.

"Why?" she whispered.

Donovan's voice dropped low-quiet, heavy.

"Because the flash drive wasn't supposed to reach someone innocent."

His eyes darkened. "And I needed to make sure my father didn't have you killed before I could get to you first."

Her heart lurched painfully.

Before she could respond-

A BOOM rattled the garage.

Kira flinched.

Donovan grabbed her waist, pulling her into the stairwell just as the garage door was kicked inward with a deafening crash.

"GO!" he shouted.

Construction dust rained from the ceiling.

Heavy boots thundered inside.

Kira stumbled down the stairs, pulse on fire.

Donovan slammed the metal door shut behind them and sprinted after her.

But before the door sealed-

before the darkness swallowed them-

they heard it.

A voice from the men above.

Loud. Cold. Certain.

"IF SHE GOES INTO THE TUNNEL-KILL THEM BOTH."

The door slammed.

The stairway echoed.

Kira stumbled in the dark, breath catching.

"Donovan-where does this tunnel lead?"

He didn't answer immediately.

When he finally spoke, his voice held the truth she wasn't ready for.

"It leads... to my father's old distribution hub."

Kira froze mid-step.

"You're taking me toward the people who want to kill me?"

His footsteps stopped behind her.

"No," Donovan whispered.

"I'm taking you to the only place he's not expecting us to go."

A metal clang echoed behind them.

Something-or someone-had reached the door.

Donovan shoved her forward.

"RUN!"

Behind them, metal began to tear.

Darkness swallowed them.

And the hunters followed.

Chapter 5 HIDDEN CRIMES

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