Chapter 2 The lie between us

Naomi arrived at the Rosewood Hotel at exactly noon, just as Julian had requested. She wore a beige trench coat over a sleek black dress, her hair pulled back in a loose knot. There was a calm about her now-controlled, deliberate. But beneath that composed surface, her nerves crackled like live wires.

The penthouse suite was on the top floor. Of course it was. She gave her name at the front desk, and a few minutes later, a suited concierge escorted her to a private elevator. No need for a keycard. No security questions. The Thornes were above suspicion, above inconvenience, above the law-at least until now.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a suite carved from opulence-glass walls, brushed gold fixtures, cream and charcoal décor. It smelled of cedarwood and expensive cologne.

Julian stood near the bar, pouring two glasses of scotch like nothing was wrong in the world.

But Naomi saw it. The tension in his shoulders. The stiffness in his jaw. He turned when she entered, his gray eyes locking onto hers.

"Naomi," he said softly, as if her name alone could smooth everything over.

She stepped inside without a word, letting the door close behind her. He held out a glass. She ignored it.

"I'm not here for a drink, Julian."

He nodded, setting it down.

"You've seen the news," he said.

"I got a call from the police," she replied. "They're looking into your wife's disappearance. They think I might know something."

He studied her face carefully. "Do you?"

Naomi's pulse thudded in her ears.

"I don't know yet," she said. "But I know she was at your penthouse the night she disappeared. You didn't tell me that."

Julian's expression didn't change. But his fingers curled slightly on the bar.

"She came unannounced," he said. "It wasn't... expected."

Naomi crossed her arms. "And the argument? Was that unexpected too?"

A pause.

His voice dropped. "You've seen footage."

"I have."

Another silence fell between them-longer this time. The air between them felt brittle, ready to snap.

"She found out about you," he said finally.

Naomi blinked.

"She said she knew. That she'd been tracking me for weeks. Phone records, photos, even your name."

Naomi's heart sank.

"She threatened to destroy me, Naomi. My company. Everything I've built."

"You mean your reputation," she said bitterly. "That's what this is always about for you."

Julian stepped toward her. "I was going to end things with her. You have to believe me. I've been done with that marriage for years."

"But you never left."

"I couldn't. Not yet. There's a contract, there are assets, board shares-it's not just a marriage, it's a business merger. One with claws."

Naomi's eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall.

"So what happened, Julian? That night. After the camera cut off."

He met her eyes.

"She walked away," he said. "I swear to you, Naomi. I didn't hurt her. She left the building on her own. She told me I'd regret it, that she'd go public, expose everything. And then... nothing."

He looked genuinely shaken. But she didn't know if it was fear for his wife or fear of losing control.

"Did anyone follow her? Do you have any idea where she went?"

"No," he said, quieter now. "I've been calling her, texting. I even sent someone to check her townhome. It's like she vanished."

Naomi's arms dropped to her sides.

"So what now?" she asked.

Julian took a slow breath. "Now we keep quiet. You tell the police what you know, but nothing more. No theories. No speculation. You didn't see her. You don't know about the footage."

She stared at him.

"You want me to lie."

"I want to protect you," he said. "And myself. You think they'll stop at questions? Once they connect the dots between you and me, your life will be dissected-your finances, your career, your past. They'll crucify you to get to me."

Naomi turned away.

"I don't know if I want to be protected by you anymore."

He moved closer.

"You still care about me," he said gently. "That's why you're here."

She swallowed hard, his nearness clouding her resolve.

He brushed his fingers down her arm. A familiar gesture. A dangerous one.

"I didn't kill her, Naomi," he whispered. "But if you leave me now, if you turn your back on me when the wolves are circling... then you were never who I thought you were."

She jerked away.

"No," she said. "Maybe you just never saw me clearly."

She walked to the elevator, hands trembling as she pressed the button. Just before the doors closed, she looked back at him.

"If you're lying," she said, "I'll find out."

Then the doors slid shut.

---

That night, Naomi lay in bed with her laptop open, the flash drive plugged in. She opened the documents again, this time diving deeper into the bank transfers. One name kept repeating: Delaney Rhodes- A private investigator.

Naomi clicked on a payment note and found a memo attached.

"For surveillance-client requested close monitoring of Sophia T."

Her stomach dropped. Julian had hired someone to watch his wife. So much for "unexpected visits."

She looked up Delaney's name online. After digging through a few pages, she found an address tied to a small office in Brooklyn. She grabbed her coat and keys. If Julian wouldn't tell her the truth, maybe someone else would.

---

Delaney Rhodes wasn't what Naomi expected. She was a woman in her forties, with close-cropped black curls, dark skin, and a no-nonsense stare. Her office was sparse-file cabinets, security monitors, and a small desk cluttered with paper.

"You're Naomi Blake?" Delaney asked, after Naomi introduced herself.

"Yes. I... I know Julian Thorne hired you to follow his wife."

Delaney arched a brow. "You're the girlfriend, huh?"

Naomi bristled. "That's not-Look, I'm not here to play games. His wife is missing. I think I'm being watched. And I think you know something."

Delaney leaned back in her chair.

"Yeah, I know something," she said. "I know she didn't just vanish. She was scared. Paranoid. She told me she had evidence. Said she was planning to go to the press."

Naomi's pulse spiked. "Evidence of what?"

Delaney hesitated.

"Not just the affair. Business fraud. Hidden accounts. Offshore assets. Stuff that could take Thorne Media down."

"Did she say where she kept the evidence?"

"No. But she said if anything happened to her, the truth would find its way out."

Naomi's thoughts raced.

"What about the night she disappeared? Did you see her?"

Delaney nodded. "I was parked across the street from the penthouse. Saw her go in. Never saw her come out."

Naomi's breath caught.

"But Julian said-"

Delaney snorted. "Julian Thorne is a liar in a ten-thousand-dollar suit."

Naomi stood.

"I need to find her," she said. "If she's still alive, I need to know. And if she's not..."

Delaney held her gaze.

"Then you need to be careful, sweetheart. Because if she really had the power to ruin him-and you're the one with access to her last movements-he's going to come for you next."

Naomi left the office with her heart in her throat. She had stepped into a storm far bigger than she'd ever imagined. And now she had a choice- Hide... Or expose everything.

Naomi didn't go home that night. She couldn't-not after what Delaney had told her. Every sound, every flickering streetlight felt like it was watching her, judging her. She ended up at Marcie's apartment downtown, where the windows were small and the walls thick, and for once, she was grateful not to see the city outside.

Marcie handed her a cup of tea and curled up beside her on the couch.

"So," she said softly, "Sophia was going to go public?"

Naomi nodded, her hands tight around the mug. "With everything. The affair, the business fraud. Julian's offshore accounts. Delaney said she had proof."

"Then why didn't she share it already?"

"Maybe she was scared. Maybe she thought she had time. Or maybe..." Naomi swallowed, "Julian found out first."

Marcie frowned. "He's dangerous."

"I don't know that yet."

"Naomi," Marcie said gently, "you saw the video. You saw how he cornered her. You know how cold he gets when he wants something."

Naomi closed her eyes.

"I used to think he loved me."

Marcie reached over and squeezed her hand. "Maybe he did. But maybe that love was built on control."

Naomi didn't sleep much that night. She lay awake listening to the hum of the city, staring at the ceiling, wondering how much of her life had been a carefully woven lie.

The next morning, she woke to a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: I know what you found. Meet me tonight. 9PM. Pier 47. Come alone.

Her heart skipped.

She showed Marcie, who read it twice, then looked up with a mix of fear and awe.

"You're in this deep now."

Naomi nodded.

"And I'm not backing out."

The pier was mostly deserted when Naomi arrived, her breath misting in the cold night air. A cargo ship loomed in the distance, its metal frame groaning softly as it rocked against the current.

She stepped carefully, her heels clicking on the damp wood. Every echo made her flinch. A shadow moved near one of the warehouse doors. A tall man in a dark coat emerged from behind a column and walked toward her. Naomi's first instinct was to run.

But then he spoke.

"You're Naomi Blake?"

She stopped.

"Yes."

He glanced over his shoulder, then handed her a manila envelope.

"She asked me to deliver this if something happened to her."

"Who-Sophia?"

The man nodded. "She said you'd know what to do with it."

Naomi clutched the envelope to her chest. "Where is she?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't seen her since that night. But she was scared. Said she didn't trust the police. Said if anyone could break the story, it was you."

A chill ran down Naomi's spine.

"I'm not a journalist."

He looked her dead in the eye. "You're the only one who still gives a damn."

Before she could ask more, he turned and disappeared into the shadows. Naomi stood frozen, the envelope heavy in her hands. Inside it, she knew, was the truth. Or the closest thing to it. She waited until she was back in Marcie's apartment before opening it.

Inside were documents- photocopies of contracts, emails, wire transfer records-and a single flash drive. Marcie leaned over as Naomi plugged it into the laptop. A video began to play.

It was Sophia, seated in what looked like her private study. Her hair was pulled back, her face pale but calm.

"If you're seeing this," she said into the camera, "then I've either disappeared or been silenced. And either way, my husband is involved."

Sophia went on, her voice composed, almost cold.

"Julian Thorne is not who he pretends to be. Behind the clean image, the philanthropy, the media empire-there is corruption. Fraud. Abuse. And secrets that, if exposed, would destroy him."

She lifted a tablet, showing an email thread between Julian and an off-shore attorney-something about hidden funds, fake charity transactions, and a woman's name.

Naomi leaned closer.

Her own name.

Sophia kept speaking.

"I know about Naomi Blake. I don't blame her. She's just the latest in a long line of women he's manipulated. But I fear for her. I fear she'll be next."

Naomi sat back, trembling.

"She trusted you," Marcie whispered. "Even when she hated you, she trusted you more than anyone else."

Naomi scrolled through the files. There were names-board members, dummy corporations, payments tied to shell accounts. It was enough to destroy Julian. Maybe even land him in prison. She felt sick.

"I have to take this to the police," Naomi said. "Or the press."

"You can't just walk into a precinct," Marcie warned. "Not without protection. You need a lawyer. A strategy."

Naomi nodded. She would call Delaney tomorrow. She needed backup. Legal cover. A plan. But even as she made promises to herself, she knew one thing for sure. She wasn't backing down. Julian had made her his secret. Now she would become his reckoning.

The following morning, Naomi called Delaney and arranged a meeting. But before she could leave, she received another message. This one wasn't a text. It was a video- sent anonymously. She pressed play... And froze... It was her.

Captured from a distance, walking through Pier 47 the night before. Then again, entering Marcie's apartment. The footage was grainy, but unmistakable. And at the end, a message flashed across the screen:

"Stop digging. Or you'll end up like her."

Naomi dropped the phone. Marcie ran into the room. "What happened?"

Naomi backed up against the wall. "He's watching me. He's watching us."

Marcie picked up the phone and saw the video, her face draining of color.

"This is bad, Naomi."

"I know."

Naomi stared at the screen. She had two choices now. Disappear. Or bring him down.

She wouldn't be a victim. She wouldn't be anyone's secret. She was going to finish what Sophia started. Even if it cost her everything.