Chapter 41: The Break In

Darkness swallowed the room.

A second ago, there had been light — the humming fluorescent above them, the faint drip of rain against the roof — and now it was gone.

My breath hitched.

“Sebastian?”

“I’m here.” His voice came low, controlled, somewhere to my right. “Stay quiet.”

My pulse thundered in my ears. I could smell the cold metal, the damp cardboard, and the old dust stirring in the air. Outside, footsteps approached — slow, deliberate.

Then the sound of keys.

Metal scraping metal.

Sebastian’s hand brushed my arm. “Back wall. Now.”

We moved in near-silence, shuffling along the cluttered floor until our backs hit the cold sheet of the wall.

My fingers grazed the edge of the table — the one still littered with the files and photographs.

I heard the lock turn.

The door creaked open.

Pale light from the street filtered in, outlining two silhouettes. Emily’s voice floated through the dark, soft and cold.

“Stay close to me.”

The man followed her inside. His voice was low and rasped. “You shouldn’t have come back here.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Emily hissed. “They found it.”

My breath caught.

Sebastian leaned close, his whisper barely audible. “Don’t move.”

Emily stepped further in, her heels echoing on the concrete floor. The flashlight in her hand swept across the space, catching glints of metal, stacks of boxes—then the wall of photos. She froze.

“They’ve been through it,” she muttered.

The man joined her, scanning the mess. “Then we have a problem.”

I could barely make out his face in the faint light. But there was something about the shape of his jaw, the voice — it was familiar. Too familiar.

Sebastian shifted slightly, enough for his phone’s glow to faintly illuminate his hand. He tapped the screen twice — recording.

The man noticed the disturbed table and knelt, picking up the photograph I had dropped earlier — the one with me standing beside the crash.

His voice dropped lower. “This wasn’t supposed to surface.”

Emily’s tone sharpened. “You told me you destroyed everything!”

“I destroyed the originals,” he said. “But someone duplicated the data. Someone close.”

Emily spun toward him, fury slicing through the whisper of rain. “Who?”

The man looked up. “You tell me, Emily. Who did you share this with?”

She flinched — and for the first time, I saw real fear flicker in my rival’s eyes.

Sebastian leaned in close to my ear. “We need to get this recorded.”

But before I could respond, my elbow brushed against a metal pipe — it clanged softly against the wall.

The flashlight beam whipped toward them.

“Who’s there?” Emily shouted.

I froze.

Sebastian cursed under his breath and lunged, knocking the flashlight from my hand. It clattered to the floor, spinning wildly — throwing fractured light across the room.

Emily screamed.

The man drew a gun.

Sebastian grabbed my wrist and shoved me behind a stack of crates as a shot shattered the silence.

The bullet ripped through cardboard, tearing apart the file cabinet. Paper fluttered like startled birds.

My pulse pounded. My voice was barely a whisper. “Sebastian, he’s armed—”

“I see it.” His tone was ice. “Stay down.”

Emily’s voice rose, ragged. “Stop shooting! You’ll draw attention!”

But the man ignored her, sweeping the light toward the back corner. “Someone’s here. Someone’s been here.”

Sebastian motioned for me to move, crawling toward the far exit — a narrow maintenance door at the back. He pushed it slightly open, letting in a sliver of moonlight.

And then — the beam of the flashlight hit them again.

“There!”

Sebastian grabbed my hand and yanked me through the door. Cold air hit my face as we stumbled into the alley, rain falling harder now.

Behind us, the man’s footsteps thundered closer.

“Run!”

We sprinted through the maze of narrow alleys, the rain blurring everything — sirens in the distance, car horns echoing. My lungs burnt. My shoes slipped on the wet pavement.

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder. “He’s following—go right!”

We veered down a side street, the glow of a streetlamp revealing the glint of the man’s gun as he turned the corner behind us.

Then — a shout.

A single, sharp crack.

I stumbled. Sebastian caught my arm.

But the shot hadn’t hit us.

It hit the ground inches from my feet.

The man’s voice carried over the rain, furious, distorted by echo. “You don’t know what you’re involved in, Eve! You’re next if you don’t back off!”

Then the SUV’s engine roared — and in seconds, he was gone, tyres screeching into the night.

I collapsed against the wall, gasping. Sebastian crouched beside me, his chest heaving.

“Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, rain and tears mingling down my face. “No. But—” I swallowed. “Sebastian, I know him. That man. His voice—”

Sebastian looked at me sharply. “Who is he?”

My voice trembled. “He used to work for Gabriel.”

He froze. “What?”

I nodded slowly, the horror dawning in my eyes. “That man… he was Gabriel’s security chief. The one who disappeared after the crash.”

\---

Rain poured harder now, drumming against the corrugated metal of the alley walls.

I and Sebastian ducked beneath a half-collapsed awning, breaths ragged, the sound of our heartbeats almost as loud as the storm.

For a moment, neither spoke. We were both drenched — soaked through to the bone — but my hands were trembling not from the cold. From recognition.

That voice. That face. The man in the shadows—it couldn’t be. And yet, it was.

Gabriel’s former head of security.

Marcus Vale.

I hadn’t seen him since the night of the crash.

I swallowed hard, my voice thin. “Marcus… he was supposed to have died. His name was on the same flight manifest as Gabriel’s.”

Sebastian frowned. “You’re telling me he survived the crash?”

“I don’t know.” I pressed a shaking hand to my forehead. “No one ever found his body. They said it must’ve been burnt beyond recognition — that’s what Gabriel’s company told us. But if he’s alive—”

“Then he’s hiding something,” Sebastian finished, his tone flat. “Or someone paid him to disappear.”

Lightning flickered, throwing white light across our faces.

I looked up, my expression a mixture of fury and dawning horror.

“Emily,” I whispered. “She must’ve found him first.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched. “And if she has him on her side, that means she’s not just bluffing anymore. She has evidence. Real leverage.”

My eyes darted to him. “What kind of evidence?”

He hesitated — then pulled something from his pocket. My stomach dropped.

A small flash drive.

“I grabbed it before we ran,” Sebastian said, rain dripping from his hair. “It was on the table. The label says, ‘Flight 27—Archive.’”

My heart stuttered. Flight 27.

The crash.

“Do you think it’s a recording?” I asked.

Sebastian nodded once. “Or data logs. Maybe a copy of the black box, something that was never meant to see daylight.”

I took the flash drive, my fingers trembling as I turned it over in my palm.

This tiny piece of metal might be the key to everything.

The lies.

The crash.

Gabriel’s memory loss.

Emily’s rise from the ashes.

But my voice was quiet when I spoke. “If this is what I think it is… then Emily didn’t just want revenge. She wanted control.”

Sebastian studied my face. “And you’re thinking Gabriel might’ve known.”

I froze.

“Sebastian, don’t.”

He held my gaze. “Eve. He lost his memory conveniently. His files vanished. His head of security disappeared and suddenly reappears working with the woman who benefits most from his confusion.”

I wanted to deny it — I needed to — but the doubt clawed through anyway.

Sebastian continued, voice steady. “What if Gabriel’s not just a victim in this? What if he’s the reason all of this started?”

I shook my head slowly, backing up a step. “No. No, Gabriel—he wouldn’t—”

“Wouldn’t what?” Sebastian’s tone hardened. “Lie to protect himself? Cover up something he did? You saw how he looked at you, Eve. He’s scared — but not of Emily. He’s scared of what you might find.”

The words hit me like a slap.

Because deep down, a small, traitorous part of me knew he might be right.

The rain eased into a soft drizzle. The air felt heavier, colder.

I looked down at the flash drive in my hand — my reflection distorted on its wet, metal surface. “If Gabriel’s part of this,” I said softly, “then he’s in deeper than either of us thought.”

Sebastian’s expression softened slightly. “Then we’ll find out. Together.”

My throat tightened. I nodded once. “We need to get somewhere safe. Somewhere we can open this without being traced.”

“I know a place,” Sebastian said. “Old service lab. No network access. No power grid link.”

We started walking again, moving through the backstreets, headlights flashing occasionally across puddles. The world felt different now — sharper, colder.

As we turned a corner, I stopped abruptly.

A black car was parked at the far end of the street.

Engine running. Lights off.

Sebastian noticed too. “Stay behind me.”

The driver’s door opened slowly — and Gabriel stepped out.

He looked disoriented, pale under the flickering streetlight. His eyes darted between us, between the flash drive clutched in my hand and the soaked state of my clothes.

“Eve,” he said, voice low. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I stared at him, words caught in my throat.

Sebastian stepped forward, protective. “We could ask you the same thing, Grayson.”

Gabriel’s gaze flicked to him, hardening. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Sebastian didn’t move. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

The air between them tightened like a drawn wire. Rain hissed softly against the pavement.

Gabriel’s eyes finally found me again. “You shouldn’t have come here,” he said quietly. “You don’t know what you’re about to start.”

My voice trembled. “Then tell me the truth.”

He hesitated — then took a step closer, shadows cutting across his face.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “Not yet.”

My breath caught. “Why?”

Because in that moment, Gabriel’s expression broke — and behind the exhaustion, the guilt, and the ache, there was something worse.

Fear.

Not of me.

Of someone else.