Morning arrived with harsh clarity. I showered quickly, changed back into my rumpled clothes from yesterday, and checked out of the hotel without incident. The bag felt heavier in daylight, its contents a burden of knowledge and danger.
I took a circuitous route to Grand Central Terminal, constantly checking over my shoulder for any sign of being followed. The station was already bustling with morning commuters perfect cover for slipping unnoticed to the storage lockers.
Locker 4721 opened smoothly with the key Marcus had provided. I placed the bag inside, locked it, and pocketed the key. Whatever happened next, the evidence was secure for now.
My apartment showed no signs of disturbance when I arrived. I changed quickly into fresh work clothes, applied makeup to hide the dark circles under my eyes, and forced down a piece of toast I couldn't taste. On the surface, I was Elizabeth Bennett, Strategic Development manager, preparing for a normal day at the office. Underneath, I was trembling with the weight of secrets.
The Thornton Industries tower looked the same as always gleaming glass and steel reaching toward the sky, the company logo prominent above the entrance. Yet it felt different now, knowing what lurked beneath its polished surface.
Marcus was waiting by the elevator when I arrived, exactly as he would on any normal day, a tablet in hand.
"Good morning, Ms. Bennett," he said, his voice professionally cheerful. "I hope you're settling into Strategic Development well. I've prepared the briefs for today's departmental meeting."
Anyone watching would see nothing unusual just a manager greeting a new team member.
"Thank you, Mr. Chen," I replied, matching his tone. "I'm looking forward to diving into the projects."
Inside the elevator, alone for a brief moment, he muttered: "Locker?"
"Done," I whispered.
"Good. Richard Vasquez is scheduled for a meeting today. Nova Tech representation. Act normal."
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into the Strategic Development floor. Colleagues nodded greetings as we passed. Someone had placed a welcome plant on my desk with a card signed by the team. The mundanity was surreal after the night's events.
I spent the morning focusing on the acquisition research Marcus had assigned me yesterday a lifetime ago. The work was complex enough to require concentration, providing a welcome distraction from constantly checking the time or jumping at every sound.
At lunch, I forced myself to join a group of my new colleagues in the cafeteria, laughing at jokes I barely registered and offering opinions on projects I had only skimmed. All the while, I scanned the room for Richard Vasquez or any sign of unusual activity.
I didn't see Vasquez until mid-afternoon, when he stepped into the Strategic Development department with several Nova Tech executives. They paused at Marcus's office, visible through the glass wall, engaged in what appeared to be casual conversation.
As they turned to leave, Richard's eyes met mine through the glass of my own office. His smile never faltered, but something cold and calculating flashed in his gaze. He nodded slightly, a gesture that could have been merely polite but felt unmistakably like a threat.
I returned to my computer, heart pounding, and found an email from Walker in my inbox:
Ms. Bennett,
In light of Alexander's unexpected trip to Tokyo, I would appreciate your assistance with some strategic planning documents he was working on. Please come to my office at 4pm today.
David Walker
Chief Operating Officer
I forwarded the email to Marcus, adding only: ?
His response came immediately: Cannot avoid. Go. Reveal nothing. I'll alert A.
At precisely 4pm, I knocked on Walker's office door, my professional smile firmly in place. The COO sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable.
"Ms. Bennett, thank you for coming. Please, sit." His voice was cool and measured. "I apologize for the short notice."
"Not at all, Mr. Walker. How can I help?"
He leaned forward, studying me. "I understand your transfer to Strategic Development came under... unusual circumstances."
"The timing was unexpected," I admitted carefully. "But it's been a positive move professionally."
"Yes, I'm sure." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Ms. Bennett, I'll be direct. Alexander left rather suddenly last night. Did he happen to share any concerns with you before his departure?"
I made a show of thinking back. "He checked on how I was settling into the new department, but otherwise, no. He seemed focused on the upcoming Tokyo meetings.
Walker nodded slowly. "And did he happen to mention any... documents he might have been reviewing? Perhaps related to our Beijing operations?"
My pulse quickened, but I kept my face neutral. "No, sir. Our conversation was brief and strictly related to my transition."
"I see." He studied me for a moment longer, then seemed to come to a decision. "Ms. Bennett, I want you to understand something. Alexander is passionate and determined qualities the board admires. But sometimes his... methods can put this company at risk."
"I'm not sure I understand, sir."
Walker stood, moving to look out his window at the Manhattan skyline. "Thornton Industries has grown significantly under Alexander's leadership. But business requires pragmatic decisions. Sometimes there are gray areas."
I said nothing, sensing he was building to something.
"If Alexander has shared anything with you, anything that might impact this company's stability, I hope you'll consider the thousands of employees whose livelihoods depend on Thornton Industries."
The implication hung in the air between us. Was Walker involved with whatever Richard Vasquez was doing? Or was he simply a COO concerned about potential scandal?
"Mr. Walker," I said carefully, "I believe in this company's mission and values. If I had any concerns about threats to its stability, I would certainly consider the appropriate channels to address them."
He smiled thinly. "Of course. That's all any of us want." He returned to his desk. "Well, I won't keep you further. The Tokyo team will be contacting your department about the Miyazaki acquisition. Alexander wanted you personally involved in that analysis."
"I'll watch for their email."
As I reached the door, Walker added: "Ms. Bennett? Alexander trusts you. I hope that trust is well-placed."
I nodded and left, unsure if I'd just received a warning or a threat or perhaps both.
By 6pm, the Strategic Development floor had emptied of most employees. I remained at my desk, reviewing acquisition documents I could barely focus on, watching the minutes tick by until 8pm.
At 7:45, I received a text from another unknown number: Office secure. Use east stairwell. Avoid main cameras.
At precisely 8pm, I gathered my things as if leaving for the day, then took the east stairwell up rather than down. Three floors up was Alexander's executive suite, deserted at this hour. I moved quickly through the darkened executive assistant's area to the heavy wooden door of his office.
As promised, it was unlocked.
I slipped inside, closing the door behind me with a soft click. The office was dimly lit, the Manhattan skyline glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a moment, I thought I was alone until a shadow by the window moved.
"Eliza."
Alexander emerged from the darkness, looking nothing like the polished CEO I'd come to know. He wore jeans and a dark sweater, his normally perfect hair slightly disheveled. A thin cut ran along his jawline, a souvenir from his escape the night before.
"You're supposed to be in Tokyo," I said, unable to keep the relief from my voice.
"Officially, I am." He gestured to a chair. "Thank you for coming."
I sat, suddenly aware of how exhausted I was. "Marcus said the evidence is secure."
"It is." Alexander remained standing, his expression guarded. "Did you look?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "Some of it. I saw James Miller's file."
Something flickered across his face grief, perhaps, or anger. "James was more than my Director of International Operations. He was my friend. One of the few people I trusted completely."
"What did he find that got him killed?"
Alexander was quiet for a moment, as if deciding how much to share. "Nova Tech has been involved in labor exploitation in their Chinese factories working conditions far below international standards, environmental violations, even child labor. But that was just the surface. James discovered links to organized crime syndicates, money laundering, and possibly human trafficking."
I felt sick. "And Richard Vasquez is part of this?"
"He's not just part of it. He's one of the architects." Alexander's voice hardened. "Along with his partners at Nova Tech."
"Your uncles," I said quietly.
His eyes snapped to mine. "How did you..."
"The documents mentioned Daniel and Gabriel Thornton as Nova Tech executives. The resemblance in the photos was striking."
Alexander sank into the chair across from me, suddenly looking weary. "Yes. My father's brothers. They've been running Nova Tech for nearly two decades. After my parents died, they—" He stopped abruptly.
"After they died how?" I prompted gently.
His jaw tightened. "Officially, it was a car accident. My grandfather never questioned it. But I found inconsistencies in the police report. Witness statements that changed. Evidence that disappeared."
The implication hung in the air between us. "You think your uncles were responsible?"
Alexander's expression was cold. "I know they were. What I couldn't prove was why. Not until James started investigating their Beijing operations and found financial records dating back to when my parents died. Money transfers. Shell companies. A pattern that pointed directly to Daniel and Gabriel."
"And then James died too."
"Another 'accident.'" The bitterness in his voice was palpable. "Right after he sent me a message saying he had conclusive evidence. Evidence that would not only prove my uncles' involvement in my parents' deaths but also expose their entire criminal operation at Nova Tech."
I tried to absorb the enormity of what he was saying. "So all this time, while you've been running Thornton Industries..."
"I've been building a case against them." Alexander's eyes met mine. "Three years of careful investigation. Working with James until his death. Then continuing alone, with only Marcus aware of what I was doing."
"Why not go to the police?"
"With what? Suspicions? Financial records that could be explained away? My uncles are powerful men with political connections. I needed irrefutable evidence."
"And now you have it."
"Now we have some of it." He leaned forward. "The evidence in that storage facility is just one piece. I need time to analyze it, combine it with what I already have, and build an airtight case."
"What's your next move?"
Alexander stood, moving to the window. "I need to appear to be in Tokyo for a few days while Marcus and I go through the evidence. Then I'll return and proceed as if nothing has happened." He turned back to me. "The question is, what's your next move, Eliza?"
"What do you mean?"
"You have a choice. You can walk away from this request a transfer to another department, another company. I would understand completely. This isn't your fight."
I felt a flash of indignation. "After everything that's happened? After what I've seen? You think I'd just walk away?"
The ghost of a smile crossed his face. "No. I don't. But I needed to give you the option."
"Well, it's not an option I'm taking." I stood up, facing him. "I'm already involved, Alexander. I've seen the evidence. I've been threatened by Walker. I'm in this, whether you like it or not."
He took a step closer to me. "It's dangerous. Richard Vasquez suspected you were involved the moment your transfer was announced. After our... encounter at the gallery, it was the logical conclusion."
The memory of that kiss in the quiet gallery alcove sent warmth through me despite everything. "You mean the kiss that went viral and got me transferred out of HR?"
"That wasn't my intention." There was genuine regret in his voice. "I never meant to compromise your position here."
"And yet here we are." I gestured to the darkened office, the city lights behind us. "Conspiracies. Corporate espionage. Murder. Not exactly what I expected when I joined Thornton Industries."
"Not what I wanted for you either." His voice softened. "But here we are, as you say."
In the silence that followed, I became acutely aware of how close we were standing, the intensity in his eyes, the thin line of the cut along his jaw. Without thinking, I reached up to touch it gently.
"Does it hurt?"
He caught my hand, held it against his face for a moment. "Not anymore."
The air between us felt charged, the same electricity I'd felt at the gallery. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me again. Instead, he gently lowered my hand and stepped back.
"We should focus on the evidence," he said, his voice carefully controlled.
I nodded, trying to ignore the disappointment that flashed through me. "What do you need me to do?"
"Continue as normal. Work with Marcus on the Miyazaki acquisition analysis, it's legitimate work that needs to be done anyway. Be careful around Walker and anyone connected to Richard Vasquez.
I understood then another dimension of Alexander's pain, not just the loss of his parents or his friend, but the knowledge that exposing his uncles would devastate the grandfather he clearly adored.
"What will you do if the evidence confirms your suspicions?" I asked quietly.
Alexander's expression hardened again. "What I have to do. What my father would have done. What James died trying to do." He looked out at the city, his profile sharp against the night sky. "The truth has to come out, no matter who it hurts."
I moved to stand beside him at the window, the lights of Manhattan spread out before us like a galaxy of stars. "You don't have to do it alone anymore."
He turned to look at me, surprise and something softer in his eyes. "No," he said quietly. "I don't."
For a moment, we stood together in silence, facing the enormous task ahead. Then Alexander straightened, once again the CEO rather than the man.
"You should go. Take the service elevator down to the parking garage. Marcus is waiting to drive you home. We can't risk you being seen leaving this late."
I nodded, understanding the necessity even as I reluctant to break the connection we'd formed.
He moved to the door, checking the hallway before gesturing that it was clear. "Eliza... thank you. Not just for your help with the evidence, but for believing me when others wouldn't."
The sincerity in his voice touched something deep within me. "You're welcome," I said simply.
As I moved past him toward the door, he caught my hand once more, his fingers warm against mine. "Be careful."
"You too."
Then I was gone, slipping through the darkened hallways to the service elevator, leaving Alexander alone in his office with the weight of secrets and vengeance and family legacy on his shoulders. But not entirely alone anymore, I realized. Not while I was by his side.
As Marcus drove me home through the nighttime streets of Manhattan, I found myself wondering what would happen when Alexander Thornton returned.