At the International Commercial Crime Bureau, the interrogator politely handed over a cup of coffee. "Mr. Knight, sorry for the trouble. Now that the news blew up, we had no choice but to bring you in and go through the motions. Hope the coffee helps."
Alan's temple throbbed. The Bureau had been gunning for Sultan Yorqan for a while now, but the guy was a master of wiping his tracks-every shady takeover he pulled was airtight. The director had reached out, asking Alan to help dig up some real dirt on Sultan.
Alan had been tracking him too. Sultan wasn't just tangled up in some mess from five years ago-he was now messing with Helvaria's core industries and stepping on Knight Group's toes. Alan had every reason, both official and personal, to get involved in the case.
He'd spent over six months setting the trap, finally getting that old fox just where he wanted-only to have it all blown to pieces by this damn media leak.
"Did we figure out how she stole the file?" he asked, voice tight.
"We got it. This is footage pulled straight from your company's security system," the interrogator reported, handing him a folder. "Jessica, real name unknown until recently, posed as a journalist and used the alias Alice Bennett to apply for a clerical job at your firm. Earlier today, she slipped into your office during the shift change for security, opened your safe, and walked out with the contract between you and Sultan's company. Still no clue how she got the safe's password, though."
Alan's grip on the folder tightened, crumpling the edge slightly. Of course she knew the password-it was her birthday. He had never changed it.
"Did you find out where she was these last four years?" he asked, voice low.
Michael shook his head. "I ran a full trace on the Alice identity. It's got a totally clean record in the States. Looks legit. But creating a whole person out of thin air like that? Still no clue who pulled it off."
"Put someone on her. Also find out who's been hiding her all these years," Alan ordered.
"Alan, just watching her isn't gonna cut it," Ethan Morgan cut in, clearly worked up. "That woman's nothing but trouble. Back in the day, she-"
He stopped mid-sentence. That 'back then' was a no-go zone around Alan.
"This time she didn't just crash your wedding-she blew up our entire operation! I say we pick her up right now!" Ethan fumed, practically shouting.
"If anything happens to her now, everyone's gonna pin it on us," Michael warned quickly.
"So what? Let them!" Ethan's eyes burned with fury. "She's Richard Southern's little sister-taking her out wouldn't even be over the line!"
"Richard is untouchable for now! Jessica is his weak spot-having her gives us leverage over him. Just get someone to keep watch on her, that's enough. Has the chief been updated?" Alan asked the interrogator.
"Already done. The chief will be here shortly."
Alan nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. He leaned on his hand, rubbing the bridge of his nose, clearly worn out. She was right there in front of him, alive and real. But damn it-he'd never regretted anything more than forcing her to reappear like this.
The VIP room at the bar was buzzing with laughter and noise.
A bunch of people huddled around the table, deep into a game of Truth or Dare.
The bottle just kept landing on Jessica. No one could remember how many rounds it had pointed her way.
"Jessica, we agreed this time no skipping with alcohol! You've gotta spill-what's the real story with you and President Knight? First love, you said! Come on!" They were all gossip-hungry reporters, even more curious than most.
Ugh. That question again. Honestly, how many shots had she downed over it tonight?
She rubbed her throbbing temples and knocked back another gulp of her drink. "My first love..."
When she was born, her mom had nearly died during childbirth-she was already older, a high-risk pregnancy. Her dad, totally obsessed with her mom, blamed her for it all. If he could've, he probably would've left her on a stranger's doorstep. In the end, her mom's best friend-Alan's mom-took her in.
Well, not exactly Alan's mom... it was Alan who raised her. For fifteen years.
The whole room fell silent. Everyone leaned in, afraid to miss a single word.
"He... he was the first man I ever saw in this world. He was ten then. When I was one, he gave me a bath and saw everything. At two, we were sharing a bed. At five, he told me that when I grew up, he'd marry me. At ten, he stole my first kiss. And at fifteen, he dumped me for his fiancée and threw me out on the street. At sixteen... well, you all know, I ended up being a pawn in a bombing."
She let out a dry chuckle. Fifteen years of a gut-wrenching first love-all wrapped up in a hundred words.
Daniel frowned, her laugh tugging hard at his heart. He gripped her hand tightly, just trying to show her he was there.
Suddenly, the door banged open, slamming against the wall. A cold, intimidating man stormed in, his mere presence making the room feel a few degrees colder.
Seeing those tightly held hands, a chill flickered in Alan's eyes as he let out a low, sarcastic laugh. "Jessica, how come you didn't tell the whole story? When you were ten-you're the one who kissed me. And when you were fifteen-do you even remember why I kicked you out?"
