The rain came softly that night — the kind that whispered against the glass instead of crashing against it.
Nick Carter stirred restlessly in his bed, sweat clinging to his forehead as the same dream played again. The rain, the lightning, the echo of her voice fading into the storm.
"Nick… please don't make me do this."
Her eyes had been full of heartbreak — not fury, not hatred — just unbearable pain. Then the car lights, the screeching tires, her scream.
He jolted awake.
The clock on his bedside table blinked 3:42 a.m.
His chest rose and fell as he sat up, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple. The air in the room felt suffocating. Too many memories. Too many ghosts.
Nick swung his legs off the bed and reached for his robe. The house was silent except for the distant hum of rain against the roof. He padded down the hallway, past the portraits Naomi had once chosen, until he reached his private study.
He flicked on the desk lamp. The warm glow illuminated the stack of old photo frames tucked away in one corner. For years, he had buried them there — too cowardly to look, too guilty to throw away.
His fingers hovered above one frame before pulling it free.
Ally Miller.
Her smile — open, real, unguarded — stared back at him. It wasn't the smile of a heiress or a CEO. It was the smile of the woman who used to wait for him on the balcony with coffee every morning. The woman he'd sworn to love.
And destroyed.
Nick sank into the chair, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on her photo. "I'm sorry," he whispered into the dimness. "God, I'm so sorry."
He closed his eyes, but the image wouldn't fade — her walking away in the rain, suitcase in hand, belly just beginning to show though he hadn't known then.
He didn't even get to say goodbye.
"Daddy?"
The soft, sleepy voice broke the silence.
He turned. Sophia stood at the door, wearing her tiny pink robe, rubbing her eyes.
Nick's expression softened instantly. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, forcing a smile. "What are you doing up?"
"I heard the thunder," she mumbled, walking toward him. "And I saw your light on."
Nick opened his arms, and she climbed into his lap, curling up easily. Her small hands brushed the photo frame.
"Who's that?" she asked innocently.
Nick hesitated, throat tightening. "That's… someone I used to know."
Sophia looked at the picture again, squinting. "She looks nice. But you always look sad when you look at her."
He exhaled, pressing a kiss to her hair. "That's because, sweetheart…" His voice cracked, soft and raw. "Because Daddy made a mistake. One he can't undo."
Sophia tilted her head, puzzled, and he smiled through the ache. "Go back to sleep, okay? Daddy's fine."
"Promise?"
He nodded. "Promise."
But when she left, closing the door behind her, Nick stayed seated — the silence pressing heavy on his chest.
In the reflection of the window, his face looked older than he remembered. The guilt had carved its signature deep into his eyes.
And still, every night, she haunted him.
*******
Across the city, Elevate Strategic Group glowed faintly against the skyline — an empire of glass and steel that never truly slept.
Inside its nerve center, Lynn stood frozen before the server room door, a flash drive clutched in her trembling hand.
Her heart was racing so fast it hurt.
The corridor was empty. Midnight silence wrapped the floor like a shroud.
"Just copy it," she whispered to herself. "Then it'll be over. Evan will be safe."
Her brother's voice replayed in her head — desperate, broken.
"Lynn, please. They'll destroy me. I'm begging you. You're the only one who can help."
She swallowed hard and entered the server room. The cold air hit her instantly, humming with the faint sound of machinery. Rows of blinking lights stretched before her.
Her ID access card trembled between her fingers as she swiped it. The green light blinked.
Access granted.
She moved to the nearest terminal, inserted the flash drive, and navigated through the system — the proposal files for Elevate's upcoming billion-dollar project, the same one Marcus had been circling.
Her hands hovered above the keyboard.
She hesitated.
Miss Samantha's words echoed in her mind. "Don't lose your balance, Lynn. Loyalty is expensive in my world."
Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Miss Samantha," she whispered shakily. "Please forgive me."
She pressed enter.
The progress bar crawled across the screen, each percentage feeling like a countdown to betrayal.
100%. Complete.
She ejected the drive, heart pounding. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at her reflection in the glass — pale, terrified, guilty.
Then she pulled out her phone and opened the anonymous message thread.
Done. I have the file. Where should I send it?
The reply came within seconds.
Send to this address. Do not contact again.
Her hands shook as she attached the file and hit send.
The message disappeared. Just like that, her betrayal was sealed.
Lynn broke down. Silent sobs shook her shoulders as she sank to the floor between the server racks. "Please, just let it save him," she murmured. "Please…"
---
Meanwhile, in the penthouse, Samantha worked late in her private office. The skyline shimmered outside, her reflection mirrored against the glass — cool, composed, unreadable.
Jake stood nearby, reviewing the analytics on his tablet. "We've got an anomaly in the network," he said. "A data transfer spike from internal servers. Small, but unusual."
Samantha looked up. "From which department?"
"Operations. But it's encrypted. I can't trace it yet — someone covered their tracks."
"Could it be Marcus?" she asked.
Jake frowned. "Possibly. But whoever it is… they're smart. It doesn't look external. More like… internal access."
Samantha's gaze sharpened. "Find out who."
"I will," Jake said firmly, but his voice carried an edge of frustration. "If Marcus has managed to infiltrate Elevate's system already, we might have more than competition on our hands."
Samantha's eyes darkened, though her tone remained smooth. "Then he's about to learn what happens when he plays games on my field."
Jake hesitated, studying her. "Sam… don't take this personally."
She gave a low, humorless laugh. "Everything in this war is personal, Jake."
He sighed, rubbing his neck. "Just… be careful."
"I always am."
But even as she said it, something deep inside her twisted — a faint, unfamiliar unease.
It wasn't Marcus that bothered her. It was instinct. The sense that someone close, someone she trusted, had just taken a step over a line they could never come back from.
---
Across the city, in a penthouse suite far more lavish but far colder, Marcus Reed stood before a glass wall overlooking Manhattan.
His assistant, a woman in a tailored suit, entered quietly. "The file just came through, sir."
Marcus didn't turn. "Good."
She placed a tablet on the desk beside him. "From Elevate's internal system. Secure transfer."
He finally looked down, his sharp blue eyes scanning the screen. A faint smirk curved his lips.
"Well, well," he murmured. "Miss Bradley, you play the game beautifully. But every empire has a leak."
He turned the screen off, the smirk deepening. "Let's see what secrets your kingdom holds."