Chapter 3 Whispers in the Dark

The city never truly slept, but Aria did-or at least tried to. Her apartment was silent except for the steady tick of the old wall clock and the occasional honk from the street below. Yet her mind refused to rest. Images of Damian Cole's face lingered in her memory: unreadable eyes, restrained charm, and that maddening half-smile that made her question his motives and her own.

She tossed in bed, staring at the ceiling. Something wasn't adding up. Every step forward she made only led to more questions. Damian wasn't just a man with secrets-he was a fortress. But she'd felt something crack in him during their last meeting, something real. She couldn't let that distract her.

A knock startled her.

Not at the door-but a soft tap from underneath it.

She climbed out of bed cautiously and approached. A small manila envelope had been slid beneath her door. No markings. No return address. Just her name written in block letters: ARIA.

Her heart thumped. She opened it carefully, half-expecting it to be empty or laced with a threat. Instead, a flash drive fell into her palm.

No note. No context.

She turned it over once, twice, then walked to her desk, plugged it into her laptop, and held her breath.

The drive contained four files. All encrypted.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she ran decryption software. One file opened after several minutes of work. It was a spreadsheet-full of offshore transactions made by a shell company registered in Zurich. She recognized the account names. One had Damian Cole's initials.

Her skin prickled.

Attached to the spreadsheet was a PDF document: an internal communication dated six years ago, signed by Lucien Ward.

The same man tied to corporate coverups, political deals, and buried investigations. The man no one had seen publicly in over a decade. The man Aria had spent her early reporting years chasing.

And now he was connected to Damian.

She leaned back in her chair, processing it all. Was Damian a pawn in Lucien's web, or had he inherited his father's legacy of manipulation and simply elevated it?

The line between good and evil blurred in billion-dollar circles.

Suddenly, a new window popped up on her screen.

Her eyes widened.

Someone was accessing her system remotely.

The files vanished one by one.

"No, no, no-" she muttered, yanking the flash drive out, but it was too late. The drive was wiped clean.

Her computer shut down entirely. Dead.

She sat frozen, the silence of the apartment now screaming with menace. Whoever sent her the files didn't want her to have them for long. Or someone else had intercepted them. Either way, someone was watching.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

Unknown Number: You've seen too much.

She dropped the phone as a chill coursed through her veins.

Across the city, Damian stood alone in his private penthouse, staring at the same Zurich account details on his screen. His secure server had been breached.

He clenched his jaw. Only one person could have seen the information-and now, she was in danger.

He reached for his phone.

"Track Aria Blake. Immediately. And do not let her out of sight."