Ashes and Echoes
The world had gone quiet.
Smoke curled into the night sky, and flames licked at the wreckage of what had once been Ethan's car. The acrid stench of burning fuel hung thick in the air. For a moment, all Ethan could hear was the ringing in his ears — a high, painful whine that drowned out everything else.
Then came the coughing.
He turned sharply. Clara was on the ground, half-covered in dust, her hair tangled and her eyes wide with shock. She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the chaos around her. A few feet away, Mia struggled to pull herself up, clutching a blackened folder to her chest.
"Clara!" Ethan's voice cracked as he ran toward her, ignoring the sting in his leg. He dropped to his knees and pulled her into his arms.
"I'm fine," she whispered hoarsely, though her trembling hands betrayed her. "You're bleeding."
"It's nothing." He brushed her hair from her face, scanning for injuries. "Can you move?"
She nodded weakly. "What… what happened?"
Ethan's gaze flicked toward the smoldering wreck. "Someone wanted us dead."
From the distance, sirens wailed — faint but growing louder. The night was fractured by flashing blue and red lights.
Mia stumbled toward them, coughing. "I told you… they were watching me," she rasped. "That file… they didn't want you to see it."
Ethan looked at her, expression hard. "You think this was about that file?"
"I know it was." Her voice shook. "Clara—did you still have it?"
Clara blinked. "The one you gave me to give to Ethan? I left it in my bag at the mansion."
Mia's eyes widened. "Then you need to get back there. Now."
Ethan helped Clara to her feet, his arm firm around her waist. "We're not going anywhere until I know you're both safe."
Mia exhaled shakily. "Ethan, you don't understand. That file—Victor's name is all over it."
He froze. The name sliced through the air like a blade.
"Victor?" His tone was ice.
Mia nodded. "And not just his. Someone else. Someone inside Blackwood."
Before Ethan could respond, a loud crash echoed behind them — one of the nearby cars suddenly burst into flames, sending a shower of sparks across the asphalt. Clara flinched, grabbing Ethan's sleeve.
"Let's move!" he barked, pulling them toward the far end of the parking lot.
A familiar voice called out from the street, strained but laced with dark humor. "I swear, Ethan, if you're responsible for another explosion, I'm billing you for my blood pressure meds."
Clara turned — Damien was jogging toward them, his suit jacket half off, holding a fire extinguisher like a sword. Behind him, two of Ethan's security men tried (and failed) to look calm.
Ethan scowled. "You're late."
Damien smirked. "You try finding parking in this part of town."
"Not the time."
"Fine, fine," Damien muttered, helping Mia to stand. "But you owe me new shoes. Mine just melted."
Even through her fear, Clara let out a shaky laugh — small, fragile, but real. Ethan glanced at her and felt something in his chest ease, just for a moment.
They made it to the car Damien had brought, speeding away as police and fire trucks swarmed behind them.
Inside, the atmosphere was heavy. Clara sat between Ethan and Mia, clutching her burned sleeve. Damien drove with one hand, glancing in the mirror.
"So… who wants to tell me why we're being hunted by people who apparently enjoy fireworks?"
"Mia," Ethan said tightly. "Tell him."
She hesitated. "I worked for Victor's network, under a false name. I was just supposed to pass messages — nothing illegal at first. But then I started noticing names. Transactions. Hidden accounts linked to—" She glanced at Ethan. "—Blackwood Industries."
Clara's breath caught. "You mean… someone inside his company?"
Mia nodded. "Yes. Someone close."
Ethan's jaw clenched. "Who?"
Before she could answer, the car jerked violently. Damien swore, slamming the brakes.
A black SUV had cut across the road, blocking their path.
Ethan's instincts kicked in. "Everyone down!"
Gunfire cracked through the windshield. Clara screamed as glass shattered, and Damien ducked, swerving the car into reverse.
"Are you kidding me?!" Damien yelled, "I just got this car!"
Ethan pulled a gun from his jacket — a reflex he hated needing. "Drive!"
Damien didn't need to be told twice. The car shot backward, tires screeching, before spinning sharply into an alley. Bullets sparked off the pavement behind them.
Mia clutched the folder tightly to her chest. "They followed me," she whispered, horrified. "I'm so sorry—"
"Not your fault," Ethan said grimly. "Victor's cleaning up loose ends."
When they finally lost the SUV, Damien exhaled loudly, parking behind an abandoned warehouse.
"I don't know about you guys," he muttered, "but next time, can we try dinner and a movie instead of nearly dying?"
Clara's laugh came out half-sob, half-relief. Ethan looked at her — at the soot smudged across her cheek, the flicker of light in her eyes despite everything — and something inside him broke quietly.
He reached out, touching her hand. "You're safe now."
She shook her head faintly. "None of us are."
For a moment, silence settled again — thick and fragile. Mia sat opposite, hugging her knees.
"Ethan," she said finally. "There's something else you need to know. The person in your company… they're not just leaking information."
Ethan's gaze hardened. "Then what are they doing?"
She looked at him with haunted eyes. "They're funding Victor."
The words hung in the air like poison.
And outside the warehouse, unseen by any of them, a camera clicked quietly in the shadows — sending a live feed straight to Victor's office.
He smiled faintly, swirling his drink.
"Good," he murmured. "Let the truth eat him alive before I do."