Chapter 4

Finley Church POV:

I found them in the lobby of Blake's high-rise apartment building, fresh from celebrating her promotion. When Blake saw the look on my face, her triumphant smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of fear.

"Give me the hard drive," I demanded. My voice was eerily calm, but it cut through the air like a knife.

Blake's eyes darted to Ezekiel, who looked pale and suddenly much more sober. Terrified, she fumbled in her designer handbag, her hands shaking. "Okay, okay, here. No need to be so aggressive."

She held it out to me. As my fingers brushed against the cool metal casing, she let out a theatrical yelp and dropped it.

It didn't just fall. It clattered onto the wet, freshly mopped marble floor, skidding right into a puddle of spilled soda left by the janitorial staff. The sticky, dark liquid immediately began to seep into the seams of the casing.

A strangled cry tore from my throat. I snatched it up, frantically trying to wipe it dry with the sleeve of my jacket, but I could feel the dampness penetrating the delicate electronics within. My whole body was shaking.

When Ezekiel saw what happened, his voice was laced with a thin veneer of panic. "Finley... I didn't know this would happen. Blake didn't mean it. You scared her." He took a step forward, his hands held up placatingly. "You're partly to blame, so let's just drop it, okay?"

He pulled Blake behind him, shielding her as if I were the threat.

Tears of pure, unadulterated rage finally blinded me. I lunged forward and slapped him, hard, across the face. The crack echoed in the sterile lobby.

"Drop it?" I shrieked, the sound raw and broken. "That was my father's life's work! His entire legacy! Taking something that isn't yours is stealing! How dare you tell me to drop it?"

His face, now smarting with a red handprint, darkened with anger. His arrogance returned, eclipsing any flicker of guilt. "It's just some old code! It's an obsolete object that has more value being used by the living! Can't you be more generous? I'll find someone to recover the data. Why do you always have to be so aggressive? Finley, why can't you be more supportive, like Blake?"

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open in disbelief as hot tears streamed down my face. Supportive. He wanted me to be supportive of them stealing my father's soul.

Seeing my tears, Ezekiel's expression softened slightly, a practiced look of concern settling on his features. "Okay, okay, I was too harsh. I'm sorry. I promise I'll get your dad's code fixed. Don't cry."

His sudden, calculated tenderness was revolting. It felt like a violation.

I turned to leave, to get away from them, from this nightmare. But Blake darted forward, her hand grabbing my wrist, her fingers digging into my skin.

"I'm so sorry, Finley," she simpered, her eyes wide and wet. "Please don't be mad at Zeke. He did it for me, but he loves you. You can hit me if it makes you feel better, just don't make him ignore me!"

I ripped my hand away from her grasp as if I'd been burned. "Get off me!"

With a theatrical scream, Blake threw herself backward, aiming her fall directly toward the sharp, marble corner of the reception desk.

Ezekiel, always her white knight, caught her just in time, scooping her into his arms.

"I was just trying to apologize," she sobbed into his chest, "and she tried to kill me! She pushed me!"

Ezekiel's anger exploded. He looked at me, his eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen before. "Your dad is dead, Finley! Who are you trying to impress with all this drama? Does Blake have to die over some dead guy's broken hard drive?!"

He held Blake tighter, his voice dropping to a low, menacing growl. "We are all going to be colleagues in the same company, Finley. Do you have to make things so ugly? Apologize to Blake. Now."

He shot me a look loaded with meaning. "If you don't apologize today, forget about any vacation I promised you. Think about it."

A sound, half-laugh, half-sob, escaped my lips. "Go to hell!" I screamed, the words tearing from my raw throat.

I ran out into the night, leaving them behind. His final shot followed me out the door, a parting blow designed to cripple me.

"Fine! Don't come crawling back to me when you're all alone!"