Chapter 39 Eleanor's POV
The night felt different on my skin this time. Same warm, salty air. Same distant hum from the port.
He was out there, a silent presence at the edge of my vision, and that changed everything.
My eyes didn’t just scan for danger anymore. They searched for him.
I followed the route Ollie and I had mapped days ago, a winding path through alleys and quiet streets that cut across the headland into Menton. My nerves were taut, but I wasn’t just watching for threats. I was looking for signs of him, a flicker on a rooftop, a pause in a doorway.
Nothing. He was good. A spy moving unseen through a world full of light.
It should’ve terrified me. Instead, it brought something I hadn’t felt in weeks, stability.
The map led to a place no tourist guide mentioned. A small rocky cove, hidden behind a steep, crumbling path that branched off what must’ve once been a coastal road. Now it was overgrown with vines and shrubs, barely passable. Just a short distance from Menton’s bright lights, yet utterly forgotten.
The moon was a thin sliver, offering just enough light to tell sea from shore by the silver glint on the waves.
I picked my way down the gravel path, each step loud in the quiet. The sea grew louder, waves hissing over pebbles. At the bottom, in the curve of black sand and smooth boulders, stood a lone figure at the water’s edge, half-lit by moonlight on the sea.
“Ollie,”
He turned as I neared.
Hard to read his face in the dark. “You’re late,” he said.
“Took the scenic route,” I replied. My voice sounded lighter than I expected.
He stepped forward, eyes sweeping over me like a pro.
“You clean?”
“As far as I know.”
He nodded, then glanced past me up the path. Froze. His shoulders tensed, though his hand didn’t go for his weapon. “We have a tail.”
“I know,” I said.
Before he could speak, a voice came from the shadows near the cliff base, where rock formed a shallow cave.
“She’s not being followed, Oliver. She’s being covered.”
Alec stepped into the faint light.
Ollie’s breath caught, a sharp, stunned exhale. For a heartbeat, he stood frozen, eyes darting between Alec’s face and mine, trying to reconcile the man before him with the corpse he’d mourned.
“Christ on a cracker,” he finally muttered, the strongest curse I’d ever heard from him.
He didn’t rush to embrace him. He moved like a soldier assessing a threat. “The report? The body?”
“Wasn’t mine,” Alec said simply. He stepped fully into the open, cautious but steady.
“Can you check my side, Ollie? The stitches are infected.”
The practical request broke the spell. Ollie’s training kicked in. “Ellie, keep watch, high path and sea.” He moved closer, all business now. “Let’s see.”
I turned toward the cliff and the dark water, listening as Ollie worked.
“Whoever stitched you tried to sew on a saddlebag,” Ollie grumbled, though his tone stayed professional. “You’ve got a fever. We need to get you somewhere clean, get antibiotics in you.”
“First, the situation,” Alec said, pain sharp in his voice but command stronger. “The data. The fallout.”
Ollie gave a quick report as he pulled a larger medical kit from his pack.
“The leak’s gone viral. It’s not just finance anymore, it’s headlines, protests, parliamentary hearings. Fleming’s finished. The Senator’s fighting for his life. The Consortium’s imploding in public.
Privately? They’re panicking. Tripled contracts on us. Throwing everything they’ve got.”
“Good,” Alec said, the word cold with satisfaction. “A wounded animal is dangerous, but predictable.
It lashes out. Makes mistakes.”
“And it’s surrounded by hyenas,” Ollie added, securing a fresh dressing. “Rivals, journalists, prosecutors. Everyone smells blood. The whole system’s destabilizing.”
“Which gives us openings,” Alec said, pulling his shirt back down.
“We can’t just hide. We have to shape the chaos.”
“We are hiding,” I said, turning to them. “We’re in a cove at midnight.”
He met my gaze. “We’re regrouping. There’s a difference.” He leaned against a boulder, steadying himself.
“And now we have a new asset, me. A man who doesn’t officially exist. A ghost can go places a living man can’t. Whisper truths where others can only listen to silence.”
I understood. His mind was already moving, ruthless, strategic.
He wasn’t just surviving. He was re-entering the game with new rules.
“We need a base,” Ollie said, packing his kit. “Somewhere off-grid but connected. I’ve got a contact for an old surveillance station in the Maritime Alps.
Decommissioned, hard to reach, owned by a shell corp I control. Bare bones, but secure.”
“Can you get us there without a trail?” Alec asked.
Ollie nodded. “Car’s cached half a mile from here. We’ll go in stages, back roads, no stops.
Takes most of the night.”
“Then we move.” Alec straightened. Looked at me. “Ellie. The data core. The original files.
You still have the secure drive?”
It was in my bag, wrapped in cloth like a relic. “Yes.”
“Good. That’s our leverage. Our truth.” He looked between us, three fugitives in the moonlight. “We’re not just running anymore.
We’re going to build a new story from the ashes of theirs. And we’re going to make sure the whole world reads it.”
The ocean sighed against the shore. For the first time, it didn’t sound like a warning. It sounded like a turning tide.
We were hunted. Wounded. Down to our last moves.
But as we turned from the water and started up the dark path, I realized something, we weren’t just prey anymore.