Chapter 25: Twenty four

The day started quietly, which should have been a comfort but instead felt wrong. The office moved at its usual pace, with employees rushing between meetings and assistants carrying stacks of documents from one department to another. I walked into my office and set my briefcase on the table. The morning sunlight hit the floor in clean lines. Everything looked normal, yet something in my chest stayed alert.

There was a folder on my desk that I did not recognize. My assistant usually announced anything new, but she had not mentioned this one. I opened it and found a stack of printed reports. Most were harmless. Financial updates. Quarterly projections. Standard paperwork. But one sheet made me pause.

It was a security log from the hotel where I first met Cassandra.

I read the page twice. Someone had requested information from the hotel last week. The request came from an unregistered email address, but the name used in the request belonged to one of my senior executives. The email was fake, yet the signature looked perfectly forged.

I sat down and leaned back slowly. My pulse stayed steady, but something cold reached the back of my mind.

Someone wanted information about that night.

Someone with enough access and boldness to impersonate high-level staff.

I looked closer at the log. The request had been denied due to missing credentials, but the fact that someone tried was enough to signal a problem. Only a handful of people knew anything about that night, and even fewer understood its importance.

I closed the folder and pulled my laptop toward me. I typed in a quick command to open the internal investigation portal. Before I could continue, a knock sounded on the door.

My assistant peeked inside. “I wanted to let you know that the legal department has asked for a meeting this afternoon. They want to review the contracts from the Valley project.”

I nodded. “Schedule it.”

She hesitated before leaving. “And someone dropped off that folder earlier. They did not give a name. I thought it was from accounting.”

“It was not,” I said.

Her eyes tightened slightly, but she did not ask questions. She closed the door.

I returned to the security log. The handwriting on the signature matched someone in the company. I knew their style. Precise letters. Slight tilt at the end of the surname. The fake signature was remarkably close, but the slant was wrong. A detail most people would miss.

There were only a few people capable of forging that cleanly.

Only a few people who had reason to dig into Cassandra’s past.

The silence in my office felt heavier.

I looked at the rest of the folder. The next page showed an internal movement log from our own company servers. There was an attempt to access my personal files two days ago. The breach failed, but the attempt came from inside the building.

Someone was gathering information.

Someone who knew where to look.

Someone who understood that Cassandra mattered.

I set the file aside and stood. My reflection in the office window looked composed, but a strain pulled at the corner of my jaw. Whoever was doing this had patience and precision. They were not reckless. They were testing the edges of our defenses.

The last time something like this happened, Cassandra’s name disappeared from an entire hotel system. She ran for years because someone wanted her gone.

Now that same pattern was starting again.

I left my office and headed toward the security department. The hallway was busy, but I kept my expression neutral. My mind focused on one question.

Who was bold enough to do this under my roof?

Inside the security office, I called the head of surveillance into a private room. He pulled up system logs on the screen. When he reached the attempted breach, he pointed at the timestamp.

“This was not an outside attack,” he said. “It originated from an internal network. The access point was disguised under a maintenance account, but the coding style looks familiar.”

I watched the screen as lines of data scrolled. “Who does this resemble?”

He hesitated. “Someone in management. Someone with enough knowledge to copy signatures and coding patterns. Someone who has access to areas most staff never see.”

That narrowed it down.

I tapped the table thoughtfully. “Track any future attempts. Do not alert anyone. I want quiet visibility on every irregular action.”

He nodded.

When I left the room, I walked slower. Every step felt controlled. My mind pieced together fragments. The forged request at the hotel. The attempted breach in my files. The unnamed folder dropped off without explanation.

Someone was sending a warning.

Someone wanted me to know they existed, but not who they were.

This was not a random attack. It was calculated.

And it had everything to do with Cassandra.

I returned to my office and called her. She answered on the second ring, her voice warm but tired.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Are you free for lunch?”

A short pause. “Yes. Is something wrong?”

I looked at the folder again. “We need to talk, but not over the phone.”

Another pause. “I will meet you in the lobby.”

After the call ended, I sat for a moment, collecting my thoughts. I did not want to panic her, but I could not hide the truth either. The danger was subtle, but it was real. Slow steps, quiet signals, a patient adversary.

Someone had returned to finish what they started four years ago.

And this time, I was not letting them get close to her.

Or to Liam.