Roman's POV:
I sat in the club's private lounge, phone in hand, trying to tune out the noise.
The leaked documents were everywhere. News. Social media. Financial blogs. My phone hadn't stopped ringing all day.
Stock price were dropping. Lawyers were losing their minds and board members were calling emergency meetings.
And everyone thought I knew who did it.
I didn't.
Amara Reyes had asked questions at the gala. About the '2000s layoffs. About missing safety reports. Then twelve hours later, documents leak showing financial fraud going back years.
Too convenient.
But something felt off. She was a nobody journalist at a struggling paper. How would she even access internal records? And if she had them, why leak anonymously instead of writing the story herself? That didn't make sense.
Unless she was working with someone else. Someone with actual access.
I rubbed my temples. Headache building behind my eyes.
Whoever leaked those documents knew exactly what they were doing. Knew it would crash the stock. Knew it would make me look guilty.
Someone was playing a long game.
And I needed to figure out who before they made their next move.
"You're not even paying attention."
I looked up.
Liora stood there, arms crossed. Twenty-one years old and still pouting like she was fifteen. Long dark hair falling over one shoulder. Gray eyes just like mine but somehow warmer. She wore something short and black that would've made Mom lose her mind if she were here.
"I'm paying attention," I lied.
"No, you're not. You've been staring at your phone"
"I'm working."
"It's Friday night. Normal people don't work on Friday nights."
"Good thing I'm not normal people."
She rolled her eyes and dropped into the chair across from me. The music from the main floor vibrated through the walls. Too loud. Too many people.
I hated clubs. But Liora had asked. And I couldn't remember the last time I'd said yes to her.
"You're so boring," she said, but there wasn't any real bite to it. "Why'd you even come if you're just gonna sit here and brood?"
"Because you asked."
"I didn't ask. I begged. There's a difference."
"Fine. You begged."
"And you came because you feel guilty." She leaned back, studying me with those too-knowing eyes. "You've been working nonstop for weeks. Barely come home. When you do, you lock yourself in your office. So when I asked you to come out with me, you couldn't say no."
She wasn't wrong.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"Physically. Mentally you're still at the office." She tilted her head. "Come on, Roman. One night. Forget about work stuff Just be my brother for a few hours."
Something in my chest tightened.
When had I stopped being her brother and started being just... this? .
"I'm trying," I said quietly.
Her expression softened. "I know. But you're not very good at it."
"Yeah. I know that too."
She smiled. Small but real. "I'm gonna go dance. Try not to have a heart attack while I'm gone."
"I'll do my best."
She stood up, hesitated, then leaned down and kissed my cheek. Quick. Like she was twelve again instead of twenty-one.
"Love you, big brother. Even when you're impossible."
Then she was gone, swallowed by the crowd and the flashing lights.
I sat there for a second, guilt heavy in my stomach.
Dad had been like this too. Obsessed with work. Obsessed with the company and I used to hate him for it.
Now I was doing the exact same thing.
My phone buzzed.
*William: She's here. At the club. With a friend.*
I stared at the message.
Amara Reyes.
Here. Now.
Coincidence? Or was she meeting someone?
*Roman: Keep watching. Don't approach.*
Three dots.
*William: You know I hate babysitting, right?
*Roman: Just do it.*
I stood up and made my way through the VIP section toward the bar where William was stationed.
He saw me coming and straightened up. Tried to look professional even though he was clearly annoyed.
"She's on the dance floor," he said. "With a brunette. Nurse, I think. Talks a lot."
"Anything suspicious?"
"Define suspicious. She's drinking. Dancing. Looks stressed but trying not to be." He paused. "Keeps checking her phone though."
That caught my attention. "How often?"
"Every few minutes. Like she's waiting for something."
Or someone.
I looked toward the dance floor. I couldn't see her through the crowd. There were too many bodies, too many lights.
Part of me wanted to go down there. Confront her. Ask her directly what she knew.
But that would tip my hand. Let her know I was watching.
Better to wait. See who she contacted and what she did next.
"Stay on her," I said. "If she meets anyone, I want to know."
"You really think she's behind the leak?"
Honestly? I didn't know.
I'd pulled her file after the gala. Read every article she'd written in the last five years. Looked into her background.
Marcus Reyes. Her father. Dead 16 years ago . Former Vale employee.
"I think someone's using her," I said finally. "Whether she knows it or not."
William raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "Want me to approach? Ask some questions?"
"No. Just watch. Report back if anything changes."
"You got it."
I turned to leave, then stopped. Glanced back toward the crowd one more time.
She was out there somewhere. Dancing, drinking and pretending everything was fine.
Just like I was.
We were both looking for answers.
The difference was, I had the resources to find them.
And she had no idea how much danger she was in.
---
*The Club, 11 PM*
Amara's POV:
The music was so loud I felt it in my chest. Bass pounding, lights flashing everywhere, bodies packed on the dance floor.
Sarah ordered drinks. Something bright blue that tasted like sugar.
"To forgetting terrible bosses!" she yelled.
I laughed and clinked glasses.
The alcohol burned going down and made everything feel lighter.
Sarah pulled me onto the dance floor. She moved like she didn't care who watched. Wild, free, completely herself.
I tried to let go and just exist in the moment.
But my phone was in my purse and I kept thinking about it.
Waiting for it to buzz.
It didn't.
Sarah leaned close after a while. "Getting more drinks. Don't move!"
"Sarah..."
Too late. She was gone.
I stayed near the edge, swaying to the music. The alcohol was hitting.
I pulled out my phone. Checked.
Nothing.
Then Sarah was back. No drinks. Frowning.
"What's wrong?"
She leaned in. "There's a guy. By the bar. Staring at you."
My stomach twisted. "What?"
"Tall, dark hair, expensive suit. Doesn't fit here."
I turned, trying to look casual.
Saw him.
Tall, broad shoulders, sharp face. Leaning against the wall with his phone. But watching me.
Not Roman. Someone else.
My heart raced. Was this him? The person who sent the message?
"Who is that?" Sarah asked.
"I don't know."
"I don't like it." She grabbed my hand.
"Sarah, it's fine..."
She was already walking toward him.
"Sarah!"
She didn't stop.
I followed, heart pounding.
She stopped right in front of him. "You got a staring problem?"
He blinked, surprised.
Up close he was intimidating. Tall, green eyes, expensive suit.
"Excuse me?"
"You've been watching my friend. So you're either a creep or you've got something to say. Which is it?"
His jaw tightened. "I wasn't..."
"Yeah, you were. I notice things."
He looked at her.
Something shifted. Annoyance mixed with interest.
"I was waiting for someone."
"Right. Sure." Sarah stepped closer. "If you're gonna stare, at least have the guts to say why."
His eyes flicked to me then back to Sarah.
"I'm not staring."
"Liar."
His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile.
"You always this aggressive?"
"Only when someone's being shady."
I grabbed Sarah's arm. "Let's just go."
She didn't move. Just kept staring at him.
He stared back.
The air felt electric.
"Sarah," I said again.
She finally stepped back. "Whatever. Stop being creepy."
Turned and walked away.
I followed, glancing back once.
He pulled out his phone. Typed something.
Looked up.
Our eyes met.
I looked away fast.
---
*Outside the Club*
We stepped out into the cool night air. My ears were ringing from the music.
"That was weird," Sarah said.
"Yeah."
"You think he was just some random creep?"
I thought about the message. The silence after. The way he'd been watching me.
"Maybe."
Sarah looked at me. "You're lying again."
"I'm not..."
"Amara." She stopped walking, turned to face me. "Something's going on. And I don't know what it is, but I know you're scared. So either tell me, or at least admit you're not fine."
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
My phone buzzed.
Both of us froze.
I pulled it out. Hands shaking.
Unknown number.
But not a message.
A photo.
Of me. At the gala. Standing on the balcony.
Looking at the carved rose.
My blood went cold.
"Amara?" Sarah's voice sounded far away. "What is it?"
I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
A second photo came through.
Me and Sarah. Tonight. Outside the club.
Taken seconds ago.
---
William's POV:
I watched them from across the street. Far enough they wouldn't notice but close enough to see Amara's face go white.
She'd just gotten a message , something that scared her.
Sarah was trying to look at her phone but Amara pulled it away and shoved it in her bag.
They were arguing now. Sarah looked worried. Amara looked terrified.
I pulled out my phone to text Roman, then hesitated.
Something about this felt wrong.
I'd been doing this job for five years. Watched people. Followed them. Figured out their secrets.
Amara Reyes didn't act like someone running a con. She acted like someone being hunted.
And her friend? That Nurse with the sharp tongue and sharper eyes? She was genuinely worried. Not in on anything.
These weren't criminals.
They were just two women who'd stumbled into something bigger than them.
I typed the message anyway.
*William: She just got something on her phone. Looked scared. They're leaving now.*
*Roman: Follow them. Make sure they get home safe.*
I blinked at the screen.
Make sure they get home safe?
That wasn't a surveillance order. That was protection.
Roman didn't want me watching Amara to catch her doing something.
He wanted me watching her to make sure nothing happened to her.
Interesting.
I pocketed my phone and started walking but kept my distance.
The brunette kept looking over her shoulder. Protective. Like she knew someone was out there but couldn't see who.
Smart.
They got into a cab. I noted the license plate, watched it pull away.
Then I texted Roman the address where they were headed.
He'd want to know she made it home.
I stood there on the empty street, hands in my pockets, thinking about the way Sarah had looked at me in that club.
Like I was a problem she wanted to solve.
Nobody looked at me like that. Most people didn't look at me at all.
I was good at being invisible. It was part of the job.
But she'd seen me. Really seen me.
And I couldn't figure out if that was a problem or not.
My phone buzzed.
Roman: Good work. Go home. I'll take it from here.
I looked up at the dark windows of Amara's apartment building.
Then I walked away.
This case was getting complicated.
And I had a feeling it was about to get a lot worse