Part 25
Adrian had learned, over years in the spotlight, how to smile without showing fear.
He used that skill again now.
Every morning he greeted Alex the same way, accepted her coffee, thanked her for managing his schedule — while his mind turned over questions he couldn't ask aloud.
The first time he tried to check her background, the agency database came up blank.
No Alex listed.
No record of hiring.
Just an unsigned transfer note in the management files: temporary contract approved by senior executive.
No one seemed to remember who the "executive" was.
That night, Adrian reread the email twice, staring at the single line of text beneath the approval stamp.
Justice blooms.
He shut his laptop fast, pulse quickening.
The next day he tried something different.
"Alex," he said casually as they walked down the hall, "you said you worked with Zenith before, right? My last label?"
Alex didn't miss a beat.
"Yes. For a few years."
He smiled faintly. "Strange. I asked Zenith — he said they never had anyone named Alex."
A pause.
Her steps didn't slow, but the air seemed to shift, tight with static.
Then she laughed softly, the sound almost gentle.
"Maybe they just forgot me."
She turned the corner ahead of him before he could answer.
Adrian's unease deepened.
He noticed things now — small things.
How she never removed her gloves, even in the heat.
How she never used the staff entrance but always appeared already inside the building.
How every time a news story about Ethan vanished, Alex's phone buzzed, and she excused herself for a few minutes.
He wanted to confront her — to demand who she really was — but something in her calm, certain eyes made him hesitate.
It wasn't fear, exactly.
It was the quiet sense that she already knew what he was thinking.
That evening, while she was out, he checked her office.
Everything was in perfect order — files labeled, schedules arranged, every surface spotless.
Except one drawer, locked.
He hesitated, then reached for the handle.
It opened easily.
Inside lay a folder labeled "Project Bloom."
Before he could open it, a voice spoke behind him.
"You shouldn't touch that."
He turned.
Alex stood in the doorway, her tone calm but her eyes darker than he'd ever seen them.
Adrian tried to steady his voice. "What is this? Who are you really?"
She walked closer, each step slow, deliberate.
"Someone who keeps promises."
He frowned. "Promises to who?"
Alex smiled faintly.
"To you."
The silence that followed was thick enough to feel.
Adrian looked down at the folder again, then back at her.
He didn't know if he was more afraid of what was inside it — or of her.