Chapter 125
Diana's POV
The call from Lena came at 6:47 PM, just as I was reviewing the Patterson contract for the third time and still not absorbing a word.
"Diana." Her voice sounded steadier than during our video call, but something underneath still felt... fragile. "Do you have a minute?"
I closed the document immediately. "Of course. How are you?"
"Better. Working on something." A pause. "I need to ask you about international litigation. Specifically, cases involving Swiss entities."
My hand stilled on the mouse. "Swiss entities?"
"Corporate criminal networks. Asset concealment. The kind of operations that span multiple jurisdictions."
I felt my pulse quicken. "That's... specific. What's this about?"
"I can't give you details yet. But—" She hesitated. "Have you ever come across an organization called Silverpine Advisory Group?"
The name hit me like a physical blow.
My office suddenly felt too small. Too bright. I stood up, walked to the window, stared at the city lights without seeing them.
"Diana?" Lena's voice sharpened. "You know that name."
"I..." I swallowed hard. "Two years ago. I had a case. Or tried to."
"Tell me."
I closed my eyes, let myself fall back into that particular hell.
"Client's name was Katya Ivanov. Twenty-three years old, came to me through a refugee advocacy network." My voice sounded distant to my own ears. "She'd been trafficked from Moldova, promised work as a translator. Instead, she was held captive for eight months and..."
I couldn't say it. Even now.
"They harvested her kidney," I finished flatly. "She survived. Barely. Made it to the U.S., wanted justice."
Lena was quiet, but I could hear her breathing.
"I traced the operation back to Zurich. Underground medical facilities, forged documentation, a whole network designed to match desperate sellers with wealthy buyers. And at the center of it—hints of a 'consulting group' that facilitated everything. Provided legal cover, moved money, made problems disappear."
"Silverpine."
"I could never prove it." The admission still burned. "Every lead I followed got cut off. Witnesses recanted. Documents vanished. The Swiss authorities said there wasn't enough evidence to pursue. Case dismissed."
"And Katya?"
I pressed my forehead against the cool glass. "Last I heard, she was working at a grocery store in Minneapolis. Still has nightmares. Still carries the scar."
Another silence. Then Lena said quietly, "I'm sorry."
"I told her I'd get her justice." My reflection in the window looked older than I remembered. "I failed."
"You tried. Against impossible odds."
"Trying doesn't count for much when the bad guys walk free." I turned away from the window. "Why are you asking about Silverpine?"
"Because they're protecting someone who hurt me. Someone I need to stop."
The steel in her voice made something click into place. This wasn't just professional curiosity. This was personal.
"Lena," I said carefully. "If Silverpine's involved, you're not dealing with ordinary criminals. These people have resources, connections, experience in making problems—and people—disappear."
"I know. That's why I'm building a case. Properly. Carefully."
I heard determination there. But also something else. Something that reminded me of Katya, that first meeting, when she'd looked at me with desperate hope and said please help me fight them.
I'd let Katya down. I couldn't let Lena down too.
"I have all my research from the Ivanov case," I said. "Corporate structures, financial patterns, names of shell companies. Two years of dead ends, but maybe with fresh eyes..."
"It could be the connection we need."
"We?"
"Rowan's helping with the investigation. And his assistant, Jack."
Jack Harrison. The man I'd falsely accused. The man who'd accepted my apology with more grace than I'd deserved.
"I..." I shook my head, pushing past the awkwardness. "I want to help. Not just for you. For Katya. For everyone Silverpine's hurt and gotten away with it."
"Thank you." Lena's voice softened. "I'll have Jack contact you to coordinate. He's... trustworthy."
I almost laughed. "I owe him better than trustworthy after what I put him through."
"Then this might be your chance to make it right."
After we hung up, I sat in my office for a long moment, staring at the closed filing cabinet where I'd buried the Ivanov case. I'd told myself I'd moved on. Learned to accept losses. Focused on battles I could win.
Bullshit.
I'd just been waiting for another chance.
I pulled out my keys, unlocked the cabinet, and extracted the thick folder marked Ivanov v. Unknown Parties. The weight of it was familiar, like picking up an old weapon.
Katya's intake photo stared up at me from the first page. Dark circles under her eyes. Hollow cheeks. A surgical scar visible above the neckline of her donated sweater.
"This time," I told her quietly, "I won't let you down."
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number:
Ms. Clarke, this is Jack Harrison. Rowan asked me to reach out about coordinating on the Silverpine investigation. Would you be available to meet tomorrow morning at your office? I can bring our technical team to review your case files. —JH
I stared at the message. Professional. Courteous. No hint of the accusations I'd thrown at him, the damage I'd almost done to his career.
I typed back: Tomorrow at 9 AM works. I'll have everything ready. And Jack—thank you for giving me a chance to help.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again.
We're all on the same side now. See you at nine.
I set the phone down and opened the Ivanov file. Time to turn old failures into new weapons.
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