Chapter 46: CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Adrian’s POV
The rain hadn’t stopped since Amelia’s call went dead.
It drummed on the windshield in frantic rhythm as I drove through the sleepless city, every wiper stroke slicing the darkness in half. The phone on the passenger seat kept flashing one line:
You’re not the only one watching him.
The words pulsed like a heartbeat. I’d read them twenty times, but they still carried the same voltage hope wrapped in threat. Whoever had sent that message either wanted to save me or bury me beside Damian’s secrets.
I couldn’t stay still long enough to find out which.
The GPS coordinates glowed on my screen, leading me toward the docks of Blackwood Logistics, once the empire’s pulse. The streetlights flickered over wet concrete, graffiti, rusting containers stacked like tombs.
When the storm forced me off the main road, I ducked into a 24-hour café on Pier 9. Neon signs buzzed, painting the puddles pink and blue. The barista eyed me the way people do when they sense trouble but can’t name it.
I ordered black coffee and waited in the corner booth, phone clenched in my palm. My reflection in the window looked older, sharper, as if paranoia itself had carved new lines into my face.
I typed a single reply: Who are you?
The answer came in coordinates, only latitude and longitude, no words.
Of course.
“I didn’t know if I was walking into salvation or a setup,” I muttered under my breath, tossing a few bills on the counter. “But standing still feels worse.”
The warehouse sat at the end of the pier, its windows boarded and its sign half-fallen: BLACKWOOD LOGISTICS DEPOT 04.
The rain had turned to mist by the time I pushed open the door. The hinges screamed like they hadn’t been touched in years.
Inside, shadows layered the walls. One hanging light swung lazily, throwing gold arcs across the dust.
And then movement.
A woman stepped from behind a stack of crates, trench coat cinched tight, short silver hair damp from rain. Her posture was military, her eyes precise, measuring me before I even spoke.
“Adrian Blackwood,” she said, voice calm, clipped.
“Depends who’s asking.”
She smiled faintly. “Evelyn Hart. I used to run cybersecurity for your father’s firm until your brother decided he preferred obedience over competence.”
I froze. “You sent the message.”
She nodded. “I’ve been monitoring Damian’s network for months. You’ve been noisy, Adri, and breaking into things that bite back.”
“I had to see what he was doing to her.”
“I know.” She walked closer, heels echoing. “That’s why I contacted you. Because he’s not just doing it to her.”
The words landed heavier than thunder.
She pulled a flash drive from her pocket and set it on a crate between us. “Project Mirror,” she said. “Damian built it off the mainframe your father left behind. It copies access logs, replicates keystrokes, and forges digital fingerprints. In plain English: he can make it look like you’re the one hacking him.”
My mouth went dry. “So everything I did, every system I touched...”
“Already framed,” she finished. “When the board sees the data, you’ll be the criminal. She’ll be the liability.”
The room tilted slightly. Rain hissed through a broken pane high above us.
I pressed my palms to the crate. “Why tell me this? You could’ve sold that drive to Damian and walked away rich.”
Evelyn gave a small, humorless laugh. “I worked for Charles Blackwood for twenty-three years. I know what integrity looked like before your brother burned it. I don’t like tyrants who hide behind family crests.”
“And what do you want in return?”
She met my eyes. “Evidence. Something that makes the board turn on him before he destroys the company. His misconduct, his surveillance, his illegitimacy, whatever you can get. But it has to come from inside the penthouse server.”
Of course. The one place more fortified than any vault.
I shook my head. “That server’s in her room.”
“Then you’ll need her help,” she said. “And you’ll have to decide how much danger you’re willing to share.”
Her calmness was infuriating. “You’re asking me to drag her back into the fire.”
Evelyn stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You already did the moment you touched the flame.”
Outside, the storm had thinned to drizzle. Streetlights smeared halos across the pier.
She handed me the flash drive. “He’s not invincible, Adrian. He wants everyone to believe he is. Break that illusion, and you’ll win more than the company, you’ll win the truth.”
Before I could answer, she turned and disappeared through a side door, coat vanishing into fog.
I stared at the flash drive, its metallic body reflecting the weak light, feeling like a key to a locked coffin.
Then the headlights flared across the street.
A black SUV idled by the curb, engine humming low.
I squinted through the rain. The window lowered a fraction. A cigarette ember glowed red, then dimmed. I couldn’t see the face behind it, but I didn’t need to.
Damian’s driver.
I stepped back into the shadows, heartbeat hammering against my ribs. The SUV didn’t move. Just waited.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Same number. New message.
You’re late.
My throat tightened. I looked around, and no one else was in sight. Just rain, metal, and that car watching me breathe.
I typed back, Who is this?
No response.
The SUV’s brake lights flared once red through the mis,t then it rolled away into the dark.
I stood alone on the pier, soaked again, clutching the flash drive so hard my knuckles whitened.
If Evelyn had truly been working against Damian, he now knew it. And if she hadn’t, then I’d just handed myself to the enemy.
Either way, the board was stacked.
I slid the drive into my pocket, looked once more toward the city skyline, and whispered to no one:
“Hold on, Amelia. I’m coming for both of us.”
Thunder cracked over the harbor, echoing the promise I wasn’t sure I could keep.