The elevator doors swung open with a soft chime, spilling weak light into the penthouse hall. Dust motes hung in the air like ghosts of their young years. Every shadow was now heavier, every silence more biting.
Ava stepped out first, her heels barely sounding on the marble hall.
"Feels like coming back to a grave," she whispered.
Adrian trailed behind, glancing around warily. "Graves do not usually have security cameras hidden behind paintings."
He was not wrong. The penthouse seemed the same but it did not feel right. Too quiet. Too watched.
Ava walked over to the grand piano, the one their father would play when the city beneath was burning with light. She crawled alongside, her fingers tracing the shiny black surface. "She said it was under the piano," she whispered. "But how?"
Adrian joined her, his hands running along the side. "Maybe a compartment. Dad was paranoid enough to hide things inside furniture."
They stalked quietly until Ava found it a tiny scratch on the baseboard. She pushed it, and there was a soft click in the vacant space. The floor panel moved slightly.
Her heart was racing. "Got it."
Adrian knelt beside her, lifting the panel. Inside was a small metal box, its edges worn, the lock rusty but still intact. Their father's initials were etched on the lid in faded letters: J.C.
Ava swallowed. "Dad really was hiding something."
Adrian took the box, setting it on the piano bench. "Do you think Mom was telling us the truth?"
Ava met his gaze. "Does it even matter anymore?"
Before he could answer, the penthouse lights flickered. Once. Twice.
Then blackout.
Ava froze. "Adrian?"
"I'm here." He felt for his phone, the flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. The light raked the room and stopped.
A shadow moved toward the balcony.
Adrian's muscles clenched. "Someone's here."
They had no time to react before a voice addressed them from the darkness.
Low. Soft. Familiarly frightening.
"You shouldn't have come back."
The light caught a man's face chiseled features, gray suit, a narrow scar on his jaw. He stepped forward, his presence cold and calculated.
Ava's breath caught. "Who are you?"
The man smiled faintly. "Someone your father trusted. Once.
He glanced at the metal box on the bench, then back at them. "That file doesn't belong to you. Hand it over."
Adrian stood protectively in front of Ava. "You'll have to kill me first."
The man's expression didn't change. "That's the plan."
He reached inside his coat but before he could pull the trigger, a deafening gunshot cracked through the silence. The man staggered backward, clutching his arm.
Behind him, a familiar voice sliced through the chaos.
"Run!"
Ava turned around. Their mother stood in the doorway, gun in hand, her face tight and pale. "Go! Now!"
Adrian grabbed the box and pulled Ava toward the elevator, but their mother's voice stopped them.
"Take the file to the docks. There's someone waiting someone I can trust."
Ava shook her head, crying. "Come with us!"
Their mother smiled weakly, jaggedly. "Not this time."
The wounded man snarled, raising his gun again. Their mother took another shot, missing by inches as they jumped into the elevator. The doors shut just as the lights flickered again, and the sound of shattering glass and cries of chaos echoed from the penthouse.
Ava clutched the metal box to her chest as the elevator plunged, trembling.
What's in this thing worth dying over?" she whispered.
Adrian didn't answer. His jaw was set, his eyes dark. "Whatever it is it's the truth."
And for the first time, Ava wasn't sure they wanted to know it.
The doors to the underground garage finally opened. Stale air washed over them like a wave, heavy with oil and old metal. Adrian's heart was still pounding in his ears, the echoes of gunfire resounding in his head.
Ava stumbled out, clutching the box firmly to her chest. Her fingers were damp with sweat, trembling.
"Adrian," she whispered, "what if Mom doesn't make it?"
He turned, his jaw tight. "She knew what she was doing. We can't go back. Not yet."
The memory of their mother's warning still rang in his mind the docks… someone I trust.
But who?
They piled into their car a sleek black sedan their father had bought years ago and which had seen little daylight since his death. Adrian threw the box onto the back seat, then started the ignition. The dashboard lights flickered with an eerie green light, matching Ava's pallor.
As they sped out of the basement parking lot, Ava found her voice.
"She lied to us for years, Adrian. Lied about Dad. About everything. And now we're supposed to believe her?"
Adrian's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "We don't have to believe her. We just have to finish what Dad started."
Ava looked down at the box in her lap. Her thumb sketched over the initials J.C., and a shiver ran through her.
I used to think this place our family was cursed," she breathed. "Maybe I was right."
Adrian turned to her, his expression unreadable. "If we open that box, there's no going back."
Ava met his eyes. "We already can't.".
They drove in silence for a long time, the city lights flickering like ghosts through the windows. At every corner, Adrian felt eyes upon them cars that stayed too long in the rearview mirror, shapes on rooftops that dissolved when he blinked.
Finally they arrived at the waterfront's old harbor road. The docks stuck out like dark veins into the sea, the fog rolling in low and thick.
"This is it," Adrian said.
Ava's heart sped up. "And we're just… supposed to find someone waiting here?"
He drew up beside a row of shipping containers, killing the engine. "She said someone she trusts. Maybe"
He was cut off when a motion out of the corner of his eye made him turn. A man stepped out of the shadows around the pier light, wearing a dark coat and gloves.
"Stay here," Adrian muttered.
Ava grabbed his arm. "No. We do this together."
They approached him guardedly. The man's features were partly hidden under the rim of his hat, but when he spoke, his voice was thick with familiarity.
"You must be Adrian."
Adrian's frame tensed. "You know my name?"
The man nodded slowly. "Your father asked me to search for you if anything ever happened to him. I was his attorney and his friend."
Ava's fingers clenched around the box. "Then you know what this is?
The man's eyes flicked to the initials. "Yes. And you don't want to open it here."
Adrian's eyes narrowed. "Why not?"
"Because," the man said under his breath, "once you do, there's no turning back. And if they know you have it… they'll burn the world to get it back.".
Before Adrian could respond, headlights blazed behind them. The screech of tires rent the air. A black SUV barreled towards them, the darkened windows flashing in the pier lights.
"Run!" the lawyer screamed.
Adrian grabbed Ava's hand and sprinted for the dock's end, the metal box clutched tight. Bullets whizzed off the pavement. Ava screamed as wood splinters zipped past her.
They dived behind a stack of crates, panting. The lawyer fired back twice before he was struck in the shoulder by a bullet that spun him to the ground.
Ava attempted to crawl to him, but Adrian caught her and yanked her back. "We need to get out of here!"
She looked around once again. The lawyer's voice rasped out, faint but determined:
"Trust no one. Not especially"
A shot interrupted him mid-sentence.
The echo hung heavy in the air as they sprinted towards the end of the dock. There was nowhere left to escape only the black water beneath.
Ava whirled to Adrian, her breaths coming in shreds. "They're going to murder us."
Adrian peered over the side, then down at the box in his hands. "Not if they don't find us."
And before she could protest, he took her hand
and jumped.
The frigid water swallowed their screams.