Chapter 47: The Confession (Nate POV)

Harper’s text, “See you there,” burned into my mind. My hands were sweaty, my heart pounding as midnight closed in. The basement was thick with tension, the hum of Zoe’s laptop filling the air, Talia’s microphones taped under my shirt, and Liam’s eyes fixed on me, steady yet nervous. The pain from the bullet wound throbbed in my chest, my legs weak, but I stayed firm, breathing fast. This was it, the trap, our shot to end her.

“You good?” Liam asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand brushing mine.

“Yeah,” I muttered, my voice rough, nodding quickly. “Let’s do this.”

We moved swiftly—Liam and I heading toward the server room while Zoe and Talia stayed behind to monitor and record. The streets were dark and cold, my shoes barely making a sound on the pavement, Liam close behind. My heart raced, my hands clenching. The microphones felt heavy against my skin, the tiny wires pressing, catching every word. I could almost hear Talia’s voice in my head: “Clear sound, don’t mess it up.” I wouldn’t mess it up. This had to work.

ZenithTech loomed ahead, its glass doors dark and empty this late at night. My hands trembled as I swiped an old badge—barely active anymore—and slipped inside, Liam following closely. The halls were quiet, my breath loud in the silence. The server room was just ahead.

“Stay back,” I whispered, my voice low as I turned to him. “If she sees you, it’s over.”

Liam frowned, his hands clenched, but nodded slowly. “I’m close,” he said softly, ducking into a shadowed corner.

I felt a wave of warmth spread through my chest. He’d be there, ready when it counted. I took a slow breath, steadied my hands, and pushed the door to the server room open.

The hum of machines hit me instantly—fans running, racks of servers blinking their cold, mechanical light. My heart thudded harder in my chest, my eyes scanning the room, but it was empty. Then, I heard it—the sharp, slow click of heels echoing through the room. Harper stepped out from the shadows, her suit neat, her smirk sharp, and her eyes on me like I didn’t even matter.

My stomach twisted, and my hands clenched into fists. She was too calm, too certain of herself.

“Nate,” she said, her voice smooth, stopping a few feet away from me. “You’re tougher than I thought—still standing after that bullet.”

I swallowed, my throat dry, my chest tight with the effort it took to stay focused. The mic burned against my skin—on, recording everything. “Yeah,” I said, my voice rough, taking a step forward. “You missed—bad aim.”

She laughed softly, the sound mean and cold, her head tilting slightly. “Luck,” she said, her voice low and filled with smug confidence. “Won’t happen again.”

My hands shook, but I kept my face blank, locking eyes with hers. “Why?” I asked, pushing, forcing the question out even though every fiber of my body was screaming at me to keep calm. “The breach—why frame me?”

Her smirk grew wider, hands slipping into her pockets, her stance casual like we were having a normal conversation. “Easy,” she said, her voice sharp, each word deliberate. “You were perfect—quiet, smart, nobody’d miss you. I needed a fall guy—someone to take the hit while I cleaned up.”

My chest burned, the realization hitting me hard. She had planned this from the very beginning—every detail, every step. “Cleaned up?” I repeated, my voice rough, as I leaned in. “You stole the files—deleted logs. Why?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes glinting with amusement, taking a slow step toward me. “Money,” she said simply, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Clients pay big for data—it’s worth its weight in gold. Graham wanted to keep it quiet—his little empire safe—so I took it, made it look like you did it. Worked fine until that damn video.”

My breath caught in my throat, the words hitting harder than I expected. My heart raced, the mic catching every syllable, her confession clear. “You set me up,” I said, my voice shaking, anger bubbling under the surface. “Planted my ID—watched me go down.”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice cold as ice, her smirk never wavering. “You were easy—too trusting. Liam, too—dumb enough to lie for me. I ran everything—server room, logs, you in cuffs. Perfect.”

My stomach churned, my hands slick with sweat. She was bragging, spilling the whole plan, every last detail on tape. Zoe would have it, Talia too—everything needed to bury her for good. My chest hummed with adrenaline, my breath coming faster as I kept my composure, my eyes locked on hers.

“Perfect,” I said, my voice low, deliberately mocking. “Until now.”

Her smirk faltered, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Slowly, her hand slipped out of her pocket, and a gun appeared in her grip. Small, black, steady in her hand. My heart stopped, my body freezing as her cold gaze bore into me.

“You think I’d come alone?” she asked, her voice flat, stepping closer as the weapon remained aimed at my chest.

My breath hitched in my throat, my chest tightening with panic. The mic was still recording, picking up every word, every movement. I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off with a sharp command.

“Shut it,” she said, her voice low and dripping with venom. “You’re done, Nate—should’ve stayed down.”

The sound of footsteps echoed behind her, loud and quick, cutting through the tension. My heart raced, my eyes darting toward the sound. Someone else was coming, fast.