The morning after his confrontation with the decoy, Jax Ryland received the final report from Marcus Sam. The dossier was thick with confirmed details: a secluded safe house upstate, detailed but fabricated physical therapy appointments, and a convincing narrative of a prolonged, severe injury, likely a serious back or shoulder wound.
Jax read the report in his office, feeling the strange, cold satisfaction of a hunter locating his prey. Aria Vance was not a ghost; she was wounded, vulnerable, and hiding. His intuition had been right all along.
Jax thought: She risked $300 million to hide a weakness. That fear is the crack I need to break the wall. I'll go upstate myself and force the conversation.
He was preparing to call Marcus Sam with instructions to arrange a discreet private helicopter when his secure line buzzed with a five-alarm crisis call from Damian Reed.
"Jax, we have a problem at the central logistics warehouse," Damian said, his voice tight with alarm. The delivery of the custom stage equipment for the Eclipse Tour has been delayed. The secure transport company is refusing to proceed with the final transfer because the shipping manifests don't match the new Vance Global security protocols. They need a personal sign-off from a top executive, you or Elias Vance, before the stage equipment moves.
Jax's fury instantly shifted targets. The stage equipment was the heart of the tour. A delay now would throw off every subsequent rehearsal and technical integration.
"I'm coming down there now," Jax snapped, grabbing his jacket. He had to prioritize the core structure of his empire over his personal hunt.
Meanwhile, across the city, Aria Vance and Elias Vance were visiting the industrial space for her design firm. The construction was nearing completion, and the raw, concrete space was already taking shape.
Aria, dressed in jeans and a thick sweater to conceal the slight stiffness in her side, walked down the floor with Elias. The construction crew was meticulous, following her complex blueprint to the letter.
"The soundproofing is finished on the Production Floor," Elias confirmed, pointing toward the heavy-duty area. "The reinforced flooring is ready to handle the weight and vibration of the industrial sewing machines and the automated tailoring system."
Aria nodded, her eyes tracing the blueprint. This was her reality now, designing a new future.
Elias checked his secure phone. One more thing, Aria. I received a call from the CEO of Volkov Global Group, Soverkis Volkov. She offered a massive hostile contract if we immediately broke our agreement with Zenith. I declined, of course, and told her our contract with Zenith is non-negotiable.
Aria stopped dead, her eyes widening with genuine, intense surprise. Volkov? She called you? Why would she target us? She knows nothing about our operations.
Elias shook his head. I suspect it was a corporate fishing expedition. She's challenging Jax Ryland's stability. If she can lure his security team away, she creates chaos. She sees us as a weakness to exploit. But it confirms one thing: she is a serious threat to Zenith, and Jax is now fully distracted by a corporate war.
Aria quickly processed the information. Soverkis is a titan. This buys us perfect cover. Elias, the specialized delivery of the automated tailoring system, is scheduled to arrive at the secure warehouse loading bay in the next hour. You need to be there to sign off. It's too large and expensive to leave to the general staff.
Elias frowned. I have a major meeting with the board of the Thorne Company to finalize asset transfer. I cannot miss it.
"I'll go," Aria decided quickly. My wound is stable. I need to handle the logistics myself. The last thing we need is my most critical asset being delayed or flagged by unnecessary security checks. I will wear the full disguise. No one will know the woman authorizing the receipt of specialized industrial equipment is Aria Vance.
A short time later, Jax Ryland was speeding through the industrial district towards the secure warehouse complex. He wasn't thinking about Aria; he was thinking about the failure of his security systems. He had to ensure the custom equipment, including Nick's custom drum kit and the intricate stage lighting rig, was safely transferred.
He arrived at the huge warehouse complex. The secure loading bay was already congested with a massive black Zenith Publishing truck, surrounded by a double cordon of highly paid security guards.
Jax strode through the security checkpoint, his face a mask of CEO authority. Silas, what's the issue? Why is the transfer stalled?
Silas met him, looking stressed. The Vance Global security team is refusing to authorize the transfer. They want a new security manifest signed by the designated operative in charge of the tour's sensitive assets. They are waiting for the Head of Security, or her direct subordinate, to arrive for final approval.
Jax's rage surged. They are still treating me like a low-level client! He pulled out his phone. Call Lena Rourke. Now. Tell her if she doesn't send someone here in five minutes, I will personally break the lock on that truck and fire her entire team.
Meanwhile, just a block away, Aria Vance was pulling up in a discreet sedan. She was wearing her most effective disguise: simple, unremarkable clothing, large sunglasses, and a practical, severe haircut that altered the shape of her face. She looked like a professional engineer, not a wealthy executive.
She checked the logistics. Her specialized equipment was scheduled to arrive at Loading Bay 3, the furthest, most secure bay.
She walked toward the high-security fence. As she got closer, she immediately saw the problem: Loading Bay 1, which handled Zenith's high-value items, was in chaos. A massive Zenith Publishing truck was stalled, surrounded by agitated security guards.
And standing at the center, radiating fury and power, was Jax Ryland.
Aria froze, her heart giving a sharp, cold thump against her ribs. He was not supposed to be here. He was supposed to be upstate, chasing her ghost trail. The Vance Global security procedures had successfully thwarted Jax's attempt to move his gear, but in doing so, had created the exact public collision she had desperately tried to avoid.
Aria thought: He's here for his equipment. I'm here for mine. Our logistical paths have crossed.
She quickly adjusted her plan, staying low and silent near the fence. She could not approach the secure loading bay now; Jax Ryland would recognize her presence immediately, despite the disguise.
She pulled out her secure operational phone and dialed the number for the Vance Global security lead on site. She had to manage the situation remotely.
This is Commander Vance. Authorize the immediate security protocol transfer of Zenith's assets at Loading Bay 1. Do not engage Ryland personally. I repeat: authorize the transfer, and then secure the area for the priority delivery at Loading Bay 3.
The security lead, recognizing the voice of absolute command, executed the order immediately.
Jax watched in stunned silence as, seconds after the phone call, the Vance Global security team suddenly snapped to attention, and the security chief, without a word, signed the necessary manifest. The truck immediately began rolling away.
Jax looked at the security chief, fury etched in his face. Who was that? Who authorized that change?
The chief simply looked straight ahead. Operational clearance. Above your level, Mr. Ryland.
Jax snarled, his attention returning to his primary obsession. He knew that order had come from the only person who held that level of absolute, immediate authority, Aria Vance. She was not upstate. She was nearby.
He scanned the immediate vicinity, his eyes narrowed, searching for the source of the command.
Aria, still crouched low by the fence, realized her error: she had acted too quickly, confirming her proximity. She started to turn, intending to retreat and manage her delivery from a remote office.
It was too late.
Jax Ryland, fueled by his corporate humiliation and the consuming hunger of his obsession, saw a flicker of movement near the fence, a woman in simple clothing, with a posture too rigid and disciplined for a casual observer, turning to hide her face. The severe haircut and sunglasses were a perfect disguise, but Jax only saw the impossible: the cold, controlled curve of her neck and the familiar dark intensity of her aura.
He started walking towards her, his voice low and dangerous. Aria! Stop right there!
Aria froze. She slowly turned to face the unstoppable force that had just shattered her sanctuary. The scent of the industrial area was thick in the air, and the rhythmic hammering of her own heart was deafening in her ears.