Chapter 7 Collateral Damage

I barely slept. Again.

Every sound outside my apartment window felt like a threat, every flicker of headlights in the street below, every creak of the radiator, every shadow shifting across the wall.

It wasn't just me in danger anymore.

Pierce, or whoever was behind this, was watching my father. And if he could be reached, fragile and bedbound in that hospital room, then no one was safe.

But still... I couldn't let myself believe it was Pierce. Not fully. The man was wealthy, powerful, terrifying in his presence, but why would someone like him waste time on me? On my nonprofit? On a girl he'd just met?

Maybe this was all Daniel's mess spilling into my world. Maybe the faceless man, the letters, the watching eyes, it was all meant for him, and I was collateral damage.

And maybe, a darker voice whispered, Daniel was lying to me. Again.

I pushed that thought down, grabbed my bag, and headed to the office.

The eviction notice was still taped to the door, curling at the corners. I ripped it down before the kids could see it.

Inside, the office felt smaller than usual. Cramped. Too quiet. A few of the volunteers were there, sorting supplies, but they avoided my eyes. Bad news traveled fast.

I dropped my bag on the desk, trying to force my voice steady. "We'll be fine. I'm working on it."

No one answered.

I opened my laptop, ready to dive into the mountain of unanswered emails. That's when I saw it.

Subject line: URGENT – Contract Termination.

I clicked.

The message was short, clinical, devastating.

Effective immediately, we are terminating our partnership with Bright Futures Foundation.

Due to unforeseen corporate circumstances, we will no longer be supplying materials to your programs.

The email was signed by our biggest supplier, the one that provided most of the educational materials we used for the kids.

My hands shook. I read it twice, three times, hoping the words would change. They didn't.

"Corporate circumstances." That was code for pressure. Someone had leaned on them, forced them to cut ties with us.

And I knew exactly whose shadow was behind it.

But still, my chest rebelled against the thought. Pierce couldn't be that ruthless, not to children. Could he?

I buried my face in my hands, my mind racing. Without those supplies, the after-school program would collapse. The kids would lose everything we'd worked for.

"Jane."

The voice was low, familiar.

I looked up. Daniel was standing in the doorway, suit crisp, tie loosened like he hadn't slept either. His presence filled the room in a way that made my pulse stumble.

"You look terrible," he said softly.

"Don't you dare," I snapped, rising from my chair. "Don't you dare walk in here and act like you care."

His eyes flicked to the crumpled eviction notice on the desk, then to my laptop. "What happened?"

I shoved the screen toward him. "Read it yourself."

His jaw tightened as he scanned the email. For a moment, something fierce and ugly lit in his eyes.

"This is Pierce," he muttered.

"You don't know that," I shot back. "For all I know, this is you. Or your company. Or whoever you've gotten into bed with these last eight years."

Pain flickered across his face, quick and raw. "You really think I'd do this to you?"

I wanted to say no. I wanted to believe him. But the betrayal from years ago still sat in my bones, heavy and sharp.

"I don't know what to think," I whispered.

That was the truth. Because if I listened to logic, I should've pushed him away. But if I listened to the part of me that remembered him... I wasn't sure I could.

For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at me like he could will the wall between us to break. Then he said, "Let me handle this."

I hated how fast the word tried to slip out. It sat right there in my throat, ready, like it didn't even need my permission. And I hated it even more... how he still sounded like the answer.

I blinked. "What?"

"The supplier," he said firmly. "I'll talk to them. Negotiate. Whatever it takes."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "You think money fixes everything?"

"Not everything," he said quietly. "But in this city, it fixes most things. Let me try."

I turned away, hugging myself against the storm inside. Every instinct screamed not to trust him. But another part of me, the exhausted, desperate part, wanted to believe.

"What if I say no?" I asked.

"Then you watch this place crumble," he said, voice sharp. "And I won't let that happen, Jane. Not again."

The words snagged me. Not again.

I spun back to him, my throat tight. "Then tell me the truth. Why did you leave me back then? Was it because of him? Because of Pierce?"

His jaw locked. Silence stretched.

That was my answer.

I grabbed my bag. "I can't do this. I can't keep letting you in when you won't give me the truth."

I pushed past him, heart hammering, ignoring the heat of his presence, the ghost of his scent.

But outside, the city's noise swallowed me whole, honking horns, shouting vendors, the buzz of life that felt so cruel when mine was falling apart.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Unknown number.

I almost didn't answer.

"Jane Riley," a voice said, low and mechanical.

I froze on the sidewalk. "Who is this?"

The line crackled, distorted. Then:

"Your father looks so peaceful when he sleeps. Be careful. Accidents happen twice."

The call went dead.

My knees nearly buckled. A few people brushed past me, annoyed, but I barely noticed.

Accidents. My mother's death. My father's crash.

And now... a threat that they weren't accidents at all.

I ran to the hospital.

The halls smelled like bleach and fear. My father lay pale and weak in the bed, machines humming around him. His chest rose and fell with fragile breaths.

I sank into the chair beside him, clutching his hand. "Dad, I'm here. I won't let them hurt you."

He stirred faintly, eyes fluttering open. "Jane?"

"I'm here," I whispered.

His lips trembled. "Don't... trust..." His voice was a rasp, barely a breath. "Don't trust-"

The monitor beeped, a nurse rushed in, and I was shoved aside as they checked his vitals. Panic clawed at me.

I didn't know if he'd finish that sentence. If I'd ever heard the warning he was trying to give me.

Hours later, I walked out into the night air, raw and shaken.

Daniel was waiting by the doors.

I stopped, torn between fury and relief.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Protecting you," he said.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to collapse into him. Instead, I just stood there, trembling.

Because, whether I believed it or not, the storm had only just begun.

And I had no idea which man, Daniel or Pierce, was truly holding the strings.

When I finally left the hospital, my phone buzzed in my hand. A new message. No distortion this time. Just four words staring back at me, cold and merciless:

CHOOSE WRONG, HE DIES.