Episode 13 – Return to Whitmore
The morning air was crisp and biting as Jasmine stepped out of her apartment.
She pulled her coat tighter around herself, her mind racing with everything that had happened. The risk was enormous, but she knew she couldn't turn back now. Answers lay in the ruins of her past—at Whitmore Enterprises, the place she had once thought would be her future.
It was a name she hadn't dared speak in years.
But if she wanted the truth, she had no choice.
---
Whitmore Enterprises was located on the outskirts of the city—a grand old building that had once been the epitome of wealth and innovation. Now, it was a ghost of its former self. Half the windows were boarded up, the parking lot cracked with weeds pushing through.
It looked abandoned.
And yet, Jasmine felt eyes on her the moment she stepped through the rusted gates.
Her fingers brushed against the small recording device hidden in her coat pocket. She wasn't just here to find files—she needed proof.
Carefully, she made her way inside.
The air inside the building was thick with dust and the heavy weight of forgotten dreams. Broken furniture littered the lobby, and the elevator was long dead. She took the stairs, each creaking step sounding far too loud in the silence.
Her destination was clear: the executive offices on the top floor.
If there was anything left, it would be there.
---
Jasmine pushed open the heavy doors to the executive suite.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint morning light filtering through cracked blinds. Faded portraits of former CEOs lined the walls, their gazes seeming to follow her every move.
She made her way to the largest desk—the one that had once belonged to Gregory Whitmore himself.
Heart pounding, Jasmine searched through the drawers, shifting aside rotting papers and broken pens.
Nothing.
Frustration built inside her. She couldn't have come all this way for nothing.
But then, her hand brushed against something metal at the bottom of a drawer.
A false panel.
Quickly, she pried it open.
Inside was a single flash drive, dusty but intact.
She stared at it, heart hammering.
This was it. She could feel it.
---
A sudden noise made her freeze.
Footsteps.
Heavy, deliberate.
Someone else was here.
Panic surged, but Jasmine forced herself to stay calm. She stuffed the flash drive into her coat pocket and ducked behind the desk, holding her breath.
The footsteps grew louder, then paused just inside the doorway.
Through a narrow gap, Jasmine could see a figure—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black.
Not Callum.
Definitely not Callum.
The figure moved deeper into the room, scanning the shadows.
Jasmine's mind raced.
If she stayed hidden, they might leave.
If they found her…
Her phone vibrated silently against her hip.
Without thinking, she glanced down at the screen.
Unknown Number: RUN.
Her blood turned to ice.
The figure's head snapped toward her hiding spot.
Without a second thought, Jasmine bolted.
---
She sprinted down the hallway, heart hammering against her ribs. Behind her, the man gave chase.
Her boots slipped against the dusty floor, but she pushed herself harder, ignoring the burning in her legs. She didn't know who he was—only that he wasn't here for a friendly chat.
Down the stairs she flew, two at a time, nearly crashing into the crumbling walls.
She burst out into the open air, gulping in cold breaths as she sprinted toward the broken fence. Behind her, the man shouted, but she didn't look back.
Freedom was just a few more steps away.
She stumbled through the gap in the fence and onto the cracked pavement beyond.
A black SUV screeched around the corner ahead, its doors flying open.
She braced herself, ready to keep running—
But then she heard a familiar voice.
"Jasmine! Get in!"
It was Callum.
For a split second, she hesitated.
Trusting him felt like stepping off a cliff blindfolded.
But staying meant certain capture.
She sprinted for the SUV and dove inside.
The door slammed shut behind her as Callum floored the accelerator, tires screaming against the asphalt.
---
They sped away from Whitmore Enterprises, the city flashing by in a blur.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Jasmine pressed her back against the seat, clutching her coat where the flash drive was hidden.
Finally, she turned to him, her voice trembling with adrenaline.
"How did you know I was there?"
Callum's jaw tightened. He kept his eyes on the road.
"I've had you followed since you started asking questions."
Her stomach twisted.
"So you don't trust me."
"It's not about trust," he said grimly. "It's about keeping you alive."
Jasmine laughed bitterly. "Some job you're doing."
He shot her a sharp look. "If I hadn't shown up, you'd be in the back of a van right now—or worse."
She fell silent, staring out the window.
The city was waking up around them—normal people, living normal lives.
A life that felt more and more out of reach for her.
---
After a few minutes, Callum pulled into an underground parking garage and killed the engine.
He turned to face her fully, his expression grim.
"What did you find?" he asked.
Jasmine hesitated.
Every instinct told her to keep it to herself.
But Callum had saved her life more than once now. Maybe, just maybe, he was on her side.
Slowly, she pulled out the flash drive and held it out to him.
His eyes darkened as he took it.
"Whatever's on there," she said quietly, "it's enough to destroy everything."
Including him.
Including them.
Callum nodded, slipping the drive into his pocket.
"We'll look at it together," he said. "Tonight."
He opened the door, stepping out into the shadows.
"Come on," he added, glancing back at her. "We're running out of time."
Jasmine followed him, her heart a storm of fear and hope.
Tonight, the secrets would finally be laid bare.
And nothing would ever be the same again.