The knock had felt like the heavy, confident strike of a billionaire. But in truth it was the frantic, impatient rap of someone with three more stops to make before their shift ended.
Tiana stood frozen, her heart recovering from slamming against her ribs like a bird in a cage. She didn't move until the voice spoke to her again, this time she could see the speaker.
"Delivery! You ordered the Penne alla Vecchia, right?"
The air rushed out of Tiana's lungs in a jagged sob of relief. She leaned her forehead against the cool wood of the door, her knees nearly buckling. It wasn't him. Of course it wasn't him. Amir Lahman didn't haunt the hallways of affordable walk-ups in the middle of the night. He was a phantom of her own making, a figure she had conjured out of guilt, fear, and that inexplicable, lingering scent of woody cologne that seemed to have stained her subconscious.
"Just... just give it to me!" she said gently, her voice cracking.
"Already paid on the app. Have a good one," the footsteps receded quickly, disappearing down the creaking stairs.
Tiana waited until the building fell silent again before closing the door to enter with the paper bag. She retreated to her kitchen table, but the smell of the spicy vodka sauce, usually her greatest comfort, now made her stomach turn.
She pushed the food aside and stared at the blue binder. The "Lincoln Willow" logo—a stylized, weeping willow tree—looked more like a claw in the dim light.
The documents were a masterpiece of corporate betrayal. Lincoln Willow wasn't just skimming; they were orchestrating a slow-motion execution of the Lahman Group. They were the ones who had bypassed security protocols; they were the ones who had let the "distraction" happen ten years ago.
> Excerpt from the Secret File:
> "Communication Log: February 14th. Security perimeter at the North Development site was intentionally left unmonitored for a 12-minute window. Subject A.L. entered the zone at 22:04. Incident occurred at 22:10. Mission accomplished."
The room felt like it was spinning. This was the night of Amir's accident. The "accident" that had stolen his memory and left him a polished puppet for his father's ambitions. It hadn't been bad luck or a construction mishap. It had been a hit. And he had been just a teenager.
Tiana gripped the edge of the table. She had gone into the archives looking for a way to save herself from Henderson's scolding, and instead, she had found the detonator to the city's most powerful family.
She looked around her apartment. For the first time, it didn't feel like a sanctuary. The robin's-egg blue cabinets felt flimsy. The lace curtains felt like they were made of glass. If Lincoln Willow—a firm with the resources to sabotage the Lahman Group—realized a junior accounts clerk had this binder, her "affordable" life would be extinguished in a heartbeat.
She thought of Chloe, sleeping soundly just three blocks away. She thought of the bond they were building, the laughs they shared over bad office coffee. If she stayed close to Chloe, she was putting her friend in the crosshairs.
"I can't tell anyone," she whispered to Maya, who had curled up on her feet. "Not Reigna, not Chloe. Especially not Amir."
But why did her heart ache at the thought of Amir? He was the son of the man who ruined her father. He was the man who had dismissed her in a parking garage without a second thought. Yet, the document in front of her proved he was a victim, too. He was living a life that was a lie, surrounded by "partners" who had tried to kill him.
___
Tiana didn't sleep. She spent the hours until dawn memorizing the names of the executives listed in the file. She found a loose floorboard under her bed, a relic of the building's age, and wrapped the blue binder in a plastic grocery bag, sliding it into the dark void beneath the wood.
By 6:00 AM, she was standing at her window, watching the sun rise over the jagged skyline. She saw the Lahman Tower in the distance, its glass facade catching the first light of day like a diamond.
She had to go back to work. She had to sit next to Chloe and pretend nothing had changed. She had to walk past the security guards and the auditors as if she didn't have the power to destroy them all in her pocket.
The "Sweet Life" was a lie, and Tiana Longman was the only one who knew the truth.