Chapter 87 Three Musketeers
Danielle’s POV
“I just need one more pass,” I whispered, my eyes burning from staring at the screen too long.
The campus library was quiet for a Friday evening, but that was what I needed.
Silence. Isolation. Focus.
The world outside was falling apart and nobody seemed bothered except me.
Maybe because the world in question belonged to someone my sister loved. Someone who didn’t deserve what was happening to him.
Mark Simmons.
He was being accused of being a drug addict.
His image dragged through the mud. While he was humiliated in front of the entire country.
If nobody else was going to find the truth, I would.
Deep down, I felt he was innocent.
I plugged in my drive, tapped my fingers on the keyboard, and waited for the firewall to open.
My pulse thudded in my ears. Every time I bypassed a layer, I felt like I was peeling away lies.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered, watching the encrypted files load.
The secret coding lab beneath the campus library wasn’t official, it was something the tech club built over the past two years.
A space with old servers, salvaged routers, and a dozen dusty monitors.
If the school knew, I we w’d be expelled. But right now? It was the perfect hiding place.
I tapped my access key again.
Mark wasn’t a drug user.
No way.
And if he wasn’t, that meant someone wanted him destroyed.
I clicked into the internal investigation logs.
Files loaded slowly, grainy at first, then clearer.
There they were.
Payment logs. Deleted communication chains. Unusual board-level authorizations.
Fake rehabilitation transfers.
My breath caught.
Someone had forged doctor signatures as well as the drug tests.
“This is a setup,” I whispered, my pulse racing.
I scrolled faster, my fingers trembling.
Log after log. Name after name.
Until I saw them.
Three signatures.
Three approvals for the actions taken against Mark.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Milla Anderson, CEO of Davenport Holdings.
I have been hearing about Davenport, she once kidnapped us.
Hale Reed, Acting CEO of Simmons Group.
I blinked.
Hale Reed.
The man controlling Mark’s company after shoving him out of the way.
My skin prickled.
Then the third name.
Jonathan Carver, Managing Director of Carver Group.
I felt the ground tilt beneath me.
Jonathan Carver. Liam’s older brother.
The person who basically raised him when their parents died.
The man Liam worshipped like a god.
My stomach dropped so violently I thought I would throw up.
“No… no, no, please no,” I whispered shakily, staring at the screen as if the names would change if I blinked hard enough.
But they didn’t.
The three of them worked together.
Plotted together to crushed Mark together.
“Jonathan…” My voice cracked.
My chest tightened until it hurt. Sweat pooled in my palms. I tried to breathe, but every inhale felt thin, sharp, and useless.
Liam’s brother wasn’t just involved.
He was one of the architects.
The screen blurred as tears gathered. I wiped them off quickly, forcing myself back into focus.
This wasn’t just about Mark. It wasn’t about Becca.
It was about the fact that the boy I had feelings for… the boy who always laughed like the world was safe… was unknowingly standing on the neck of a man his own brother helped destroy.
A soft voice echoed from behind me.
“Hey, Rookie? Are you hiding from me?”
I froze.
My fingers hovered above the keyboard.
Liam, of all moments.
He walked into the lab with that stupid beautiful smile he always wore.
Hazel eyes bright, hands tucked in his pockets, cheeks slightly flushed. He must’ve run here.
“You disappeared after class,” he said, laughing lightly. “I thought we could grab dinner before heading to the arcade. Unless you forgot our…”
His smile faded slowly.
He looked at me like he could sense something was wrong.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
I didn’t answer.
My throat closed. My hands shook. My heart felt like it was breaking in slow, painful cracks.
“Rookie” he repeated, stepping closer.
I closed the laptop instantly, the sound echoing around us like a gunshot.
He flinched.
“What’s going on?” He knelt slightly, trying to meet my eyes. “Did someone say something to you? Are you okay?”
I stood up slowly, gripping the laptop so hard my knuckles turned white.
“Nothing,” I said.
He frowned. “Clearly something is…”
“I said nothing.”
My voice was flat and cold. A version of me that rarely came out.
His expression tightened. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Because I didn’t know who he was anymore.
Because loving someone who was tied to this mess felt like betrayal.
But I couldn’t tell him. Not until I understood everything.
I walked past him, my shoulder brushing his. The contact made my skin crawl even though it wasn’t his fault.
Not directly. But he carried the blood on his name whether he knew it or not.
He turned, confused, reaching for my wrist.
“Danielle,”
I jerked my hand back sharply.
“Don’t touch me.”
He froze.
The pain in his eyes almost softened me.
“Why are you acting like this? What did I do?”
I didn’t trust my voice.
I walked to the door.
My hand was already on the knob when I heard him whisper, barely audible
“Danielle… please.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
For one second, hearing him plead, broke me but then
Jonathan Carver’s name flashed in my mind again.
Circled in red.
Marked like a stain.
A stain connected to the man who smiled at me like I meant something.
I walked out without looking back.
Behind me, I heard him exhale shakily.
The door swung shut.
I stood in the hallway for a moment, gripping the edge of my laptop like it could keep me from collapsing. My breath was ragged. My mind was racing. My heart hurt so badly I pressed my fist against my chest to soothe it.
“What do I do now?” I whispered to myself.