Kai didn't move immediately after the call ended.
The phone stayed pressed to his ear, long after the line went dead, as if the silence itself might explain what he'd just heard. It didn't.
You're getting closer than you should.
That wasn't a threat. It was a warning. And warnings were always worse.
He slid the phone back into his pocket and leaned against the wall, forcing his breathing to slow. His pulse was still racing, but his mind was already shifting gears. Fear never stayed long with him—it burned fast, then turned into focus.
Someone knew his pattern.
Not just his movements, but his intent.
Kai replayed the last few days in his head. The break-in. The file he shouldn't have found. The name that kept resurfacing in places it didn't belong. He'd been careful—at least, he thought he had. No calls from his usual number. No direct questions. No obvious trail.
Yet here they were.
"You okay?"
The voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Lena standing a few steps away, arms folded, eyes sharp. She had a way of looking calm even when she wasn't. Kai had learned that meant she was already ten steps ahead.
"Yeah," he said automatically.
She didn't buy it.
"You went quiet," she said. "That usually means something just went wrong."
Kai hesitated. Trust was a currency he spent carefully now. But Lena had already crossed too many lines with him to pretend she was just passing through.
"Someone called," he said. "Private number."
"And?"
"And they knew what I was looking for."
That got her attention. She uncrossed her arms and stepped closer. "That's not good."
"No," Kai agreed. "It's not."
They stood there for a moment, the weight of it settling between them. Outside, footsteps passed, voices echoed briefly, then faded. Life moving on, unaware.
Lena broke the silence first. "So what's the plan?"
Kai exhaled slowly. "The same one. But faster."
She raised an eyebrow. "That's not a plan. That's how people get sloppy."
"Then help me tighten it," he said. "Because stopping now isn't an option."
Lena studied his face, searching for doubt. She didn't find any. What she saw instead was resolve—hard, unbending, and dangerous in its own way.
"Alright," she said finally. "But if we do this, we do it clean. No side moves. No solo hero stuff."
Kai almost smiled. "You know me better than that."
She snorted. "I really do."
They moved to the table, spreading out the documents Kai had recovered earlier. Names, transactions, dates—pieces of a puzzle that didn't want to be solved. Lena traced a finger over one entry, then paused.
"This," she said. "You notice how this shows up every time the trail goes cold?"
Kai leaned in. He had noticed. He just hadn't wanted to say it out loud.
"It's not a person," he said. "It's a buffer."
"Exactly," Lena replied. "Which means whoever's behind this doesn't get their hands dirty. They let systems do it for them."
Kai clenched his jaw. That fit too well.
"And systems," Lena continued, "don't panic. People do."
"So we find the people," Kai said.
She nodded. "And that means pressure."
A knock interrupted them.
Both of them froze.
Kai's hand moved instinctively toward his side, stopping just short of anything obvious. Lena met his eyes, her expression warning him to stay calm.
Another knock. Firmer this time.
Kai stepped forward and opened the door just enough to see a man standing there—mid-thirties, neat clothes, neutral posture. The kind of person who blended in by design.
"Wrong room?" the man asked politely.
Kai didn't answer right away. He didn't have to. The man's eyes flicked past him for a split second, cataloguing the space.
"No," Kai said finally. "You found the right one."
The man smiled, slow and measured. "Good. Then this won't take long."
Lena stepped into view behind Kai. The man's gaze shifted to her, then back again.
"You're being watched," he said, dropping the polite tone. "You already know that."
"Then why show up?" Kai asked.
"To make something clear," the man replied. "Curiosity is expensive. And you're running up a bill."
Kai held his stare. "Tell your employer something for me."
The man tilted his head. "Which is?"
"That I don't stop once I've started."
Silence stretched between them. Then the man chuckled softly.
"That's what they're afraid of," he said. "Enjoy what time you have."
He turned and walked away, unhurried.
Kai closed the door and locked it.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
"That," Lena said quietly, "wasn't intimidation."
"No," Kai replied. "That was confirmation."
He looked down at the files again, at the names and numbers that had suddenly become more than just data.
They had crossed a line.
And there was no going back.