Luke did not offer sympathy.
He never did when survival proved competence.
Finley sat across from him, ribs wrapped, knuckles bruised, a thin line of stitches tugging at her lip every time she breathed too deep. The office lights were low. Maps glowed on the wall—shipping routes, shell corporations, power grids that pretended not to connect.
"You ran," Luke said.
"I escaped," Finley corrected.
"You were dismissed."
She nodded once. "Which is worse for him than killing me."
Luke studied her for a long moment. Then he turned toward the wall and brought up a new layer of data. Names bloomed across the map like infection points.
"Hellfire isn't Rafferty's," he said. "Not fully. He feeds it, shields it, launders for it—but it doesn't answer to him. No one knows who the owner is since it's a secret company.
Finley leaned forward. "It answers to pressure."
Luke smiled thinly. "Exactly."
He tapped a node near the east docks. Power lines. Private freight lanes. A company registered under three dead men and one shell trust buried in the Caymans.
"This," he said, "is where Hellfire stops pretending."
Finley's eyes sharpened. "You're saying we don't give Rafferty rumours."
"We give him leverage. But don't forget the information I'm giving you on everything based on Hellfire is all fake. The Hellfire isn't just a name and we can't any risks. We just need to use the name wisely cause Rafferty isn't someone to play with. So be careful in there. They are very sensitive especially with such information you'll be holding."
"Oky sir, I'm gonna make sure everything goes well." She said with a smile though deep down she knew if it doesn't go well, at least she was able to help.
They worked through the night.
Luke moved like a man assembling a weapon—precise, quiet, ruthless. Finley filled in the gaps with what she'd seen inside Rafferty's walls: security rhythms, procedural arrogance, the subtle tells of men who'd never been challenged by someone they underestimated.
By dawn, they had it.
Not a dossier.
A blade.
A hidden transfer point Hellfire had been using to move people instead of cargo. Dates. Tonnage discrepancies. Power reroutes are timed to blind municipal oversight. And one name buried so deep it had never been spoken aloud—someone Hellfire could not afford to lose.
Luke closed the file. "This gets you back in. No one can know if it is fake. It proves everything."
Finley exhaled slowly. "This gets me killed."
"Eventually," Luke said. "But not today."
She met his gaze. "He won't trust me."
"No," Luke agreed. "But he'll fear not using you more."
Rafferty Rampanda hated second chances.
They implied regret. The next day in the afternoon, she decided to take the risk. To make sure they don't suspect her. It was the only choice she had to survive.
The room they brought her into this time was different. No metal table. No visible restraints. Just glass walls and a city stretched out behind him like an obedient animal.
Rafferty stood with his back to her when she entered.
"You're persistent," he said.
"You left the door unlocked," Finley replied.
He turned.
Up close, the calm was worse. It wasn't arrogance—it was certainty. The kind that came from surviving every betrayal so far.
"I told them to send you away," Rafferty said. "Not to bring you back."
Finley reached into her jacket.
The guards stiffened.
Rafferty raised a hand. "Let her."
She placed a slim drive on the desk between them.
"One hour," she said. "After that, Hellfire relocates its human freight from Dock Epsilon to a private yard you don't control. The transfer happens under a scheduled blackout you authorised three months ago without knowing what it was shielding."
Rafferty didn't touch the drive.
"You're guessing," he said.
Finley smiled faintly. "Play it."
He hesitated.
That was the crack.
Rafferty nodded once.
The screen behind him lit up.
As the data unfolded, something shifted in his eyes. Not shock—calculation under pressure. Names scrolled. Dates aligned. A margin he hadn't known existed evaporated in real time.
When the screen went dark again, the room felt colder.
"You stole this," Rafferty said quietly.
"I followed it," Finley replied. "Hellfire bleeds patterns. You just never stood close enough to smell them."
Silence stretched.
Rafferty walked to the glass, staring out at the city. His reflection fractured across it—one man, many ghosts.
"They don't answer to me," he said finally.
"No," Finley agreed. "They use you."
That landed harder than any insult.
Rafferty turned slowly. "You ran the first time."
"I survived," she said. "There's a difference."
"And what makes you think," he asked, "that I won't correct that mistake now?"
Finley met his gaze without flinching. "Because if you kill me, this information dies with me. And Hellfire learns you're blind."
A long pause.
Rafferty exhaled through his nose. Controlled. Furious. Impressed despite himself.
"You're a liability," he said.
"Yes."
"And a risk."
"Yes."
"And the last person I should trust."
Finley nodded once. "Which makes me the only one Hellfire won't see coming."
Rafferty studied her like a man staring into a mirror he didn't want.
Finally, he spoke.
"You will not be visible," he said. "You will not be protected. If you fail, I will deny knowing you ever existed."
Finley smiled—thin, dangerous. "That's the only way this works."
Rafferty picked up the drive.
"You answer to me," he said. "Not Hellfire. Not whatever shadow convinced you you're untouchable."
"I was never untouchable," Finley replied. "Just underestimated."
That earned her a look sharp enough to cut.
Rafferty stepped closer. Too close.
"If you betray me," he said softly, "there will be no running."
Finley leaned in just enough to be heard. "Then don't make yourself the wrong side to run from."
For a moment, the air crackled—predator recognising predator.
Rafferty stepped back.
"You start tonight," he said. "One chance."
As she turned to leave, he added, almost reluctantly, "Hellfire won't kill you immediately."
Finley paused at the door. "Neither will you."
She walked out alive.
Again.
And this time, Rafferty watched her go knowing he had just invited the most dangerous variable in his empire straight into its heart.
The lion had opened its den.
And the fire inside was learning how to lie.