Nadia's POV
You have twenty-two hours left to decide.
I blocked Dominic's path to his bedroom. I'm not letting you do this.
It's not your decision. His voice was cold again. The warmth from earlier gone. My sister, my choice.
Your suicide mission, you mean!
Move, Nadia.
No.
We stood there, locked in a battle of wills. Him wanting to die for his sister. Me refusing to let him.
His phone rang. A burner he kept for emergencies.
He answered, listened for a moment, then his expression changed.
Say that again, he said into the phone.
More listening. Then he looked at me.
Someone wants to help us. James Riley. Marcus's assistant prosecutor.
My stomach dropped. That's a trap.
Maybe. Or maybe Marcus's corruption is obvious to people who work closely with him. He put the phone on speaker. Go ahead, Mr. Riley. You're on speaker now.
A nervous male voice filled the room: Ms. Cross, if you're there I'm sorry. For everything. I worked under Marcus for eight years and I... I didn't know. Not until I started preparing the Ashford case and found discrepancies.
What kind of discrepancies? I asked.
Evidence that was suppressed. Witness statements that disappeared. Financial records that don't match what was presented at trial. Marcus has been doctoring case files for years. James's voice shook. I think he's framing both of you. And I think Judge Rivers is helping him.
Why should we trust you? Dominic demanded.
You shouldn't. I'm calling from Marcus's office right now. If he finds out, I'm dead. Papers rustling. But I can't watch this anymore. Someone needs to stop him.
Dominic and I exchanged glances.
Can we trust him? I whispered, hand over the phone.
Trust is a luxury we can't afford. But we can use him.
Dominic took the phone off speaker. Mr. Riley, if you want to help, we need information. Courthouse schedules. Marcus's meetings. Copies of suppressed evidence.
I can get that. But I need to stay undercover. If Marcus suspects
Understood. We'll set up secure communication. Check your personal email in one hour for instructions.
He hung up.
This could be a trap, I said.
Everything is a trap. Question is whether the benefit outweighs the risk. He was already setting up encrypted email channels. If Riley's legitimate, he's our lifeline to the inside. If he's working for Marcus, we feed him false information and see what happens.
And if Marcus kills him for helping us?
Then Riley made his choice. Just like we're making ours.
Cold. Calculating. But probably right.
An hour later, James sent his first message: Copies of suppressed evidence reports. Witness statements that contradicted the prosecution's timeline. Photos from Linda Morrison's crime scene that were never shown at trial.
He's legitimate, I said, reading through the files. This is real evidence.
Or very good bait. But even Dominic looked convinced. We'll verify everything before we trust it.
Over the next five days, James became our window into the courthouse. He sent schedules showing when Marcus met with Victor Ashford. Documents proving Judge Rivers had ruled against defense motions before even reading them. Recordings of private conversations where Marcus discussed the Cross problem.
Each piece of evidence confirmed what we already knew: the entire courthouse was corrupt.
On day forty, James sent something that made my blood boil.
Financial records showing Judge Rivers received a payment of five hundred thousand dollars the week before Dominic's trial started.
Source: A shell company owned by Victor Ashford.
She sold her ruling before the trial even began, I said, disgusted. Before a single piece of evidence was presented, she'd already decided Dominic was guilty.
That's how my father works. Why take chances in court when you can buy the verdict in advance?
I thought about Judge Rivers encouraging my career. Praising my work. All while planning to destroy me.
How do people live with themselves? I whispered.
Money helps. And convincing yourself everyone does it. Dominic pulled up more files. James also sent Marcus's schedule for tomorrow. He's meeting Victor at noon. Public placethe courthouse cafeteria.
That's bold.
That's arrogant. They think they're untouchable. He started typing. Time to prove them wrong.
What are you doing?
Sending James instructions to record the meeting. Audio, video if possible. We need Victor and Marcus on tape discussing the conspiracy.
And then what? We have twenty-one hours before you're supposed to surrender for Sophia.
His expression darkened. I haven't forgotten.
That night, I couldn't sleep. The weight of everything Sarah missing, Sophia captured, Dominic planning to sacrifice himself crushed my chest.
I found him on the balcony, staring at city lights.
Can't sleep? he asked without turning.
Too much on my mind.
Same.
I stood beside him. Can I ask you something?
You're going to anyway.
Do you ever regret it? Becoming what you became after they died?
He was quiet for a long time. Every day. But regret doesn't bring them back. Doesn't change what I am now.
You could still change. After this is over.
He laughed, but it was bitter. Painful. You think there's redemption for people like me? I've done terrible things, Nadia. Hurt people. Destroyed lives. That doesn't just wash away.
No. But it doesn't mean you can't do better going forward. I moved closer. I think there's redemption for people who try.
He finally looked at me. Really looked.
And I saw something in his eyes that terrified me.
Hope.
You make me want to believe that, he said quietly. That's dangerous.
Why?
Because hope makes you weak. Makes you care about things you can't control. His hand found mine on the railing. Makes you care about people who'll probably get you killed.
Are you talking about Sophia? Or me?
Both.
We stood there, hands touching, the night air cold around us.
I'm not letting you surrender tomorrow, I said.
You can't stop me.
Watch me.
He almost smiled. Stubborn.
Learned from the best.
His phone buzzed. Message from James Riley.
We both looked at the screen.
Got the recording. Marcus and Victor discussed everything Linda Morrison's murder, framing you both, paying off Rivers. It's damning. But there's a problem. Marcus knows I'm helping you. He found the recording device. I'm compromised. He's coming for me right now. I'm sending you everything I have. Use it. Finish this. J.R.
Attached were dozens of files. Audio recordings. Financial documents. Evidence that could destroy the entire conspiracy.
James, I whispered. He sacrificed himself.
He made his choice. Dominic was already downloading the files. We make sure it counts.
Another message arrived. This one wasn't from James.
It was a video file. Unknown sender.
My hands shook as I pressed play.
James Riley appeared on screen. Tied to a chair in what looked like Marcus's office.
Marcus Webb stood behind him, looking calm. Professional. Like he was preparing for trial instead of torturing his assistant.
Hello, Dominic. Nadia. Marcus's voice was warm. Fatherly. The same voice that had encouraged my career. I see James has been helping you. That's unfortunate. For him.
He placed a hand on James's shoulder.
James was crying. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I tried
You tried to be a hero. Marcus's smile was gentle. Kind. Terrifying. Heroes die, James. You should have remembered that.
The video went black.
A gunshot echoed through the audio.
Then silence.
The video ended.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
James Riley. Dead. Because he'd tried to help us.
They killed him, I whispered. They killed him because of us.
Dominic's face was stone. They killed him because he threatened them. That's on Marcus, not us.
But
No. His voice was hard. We don't get to feel guilty for other people's choices. James chose to help. Marcus chose to kill him. We choose to finish what James started.
Another message arrived.
This time from Victor Ashford directly:
Twenty hours, son. Then Sophia dies. And maybe I'll send you Ms. Cross's body too, just to make sure you understand family is all that matters. And you stopped being family the day you betrayed me. Dad
Below it, a photo.
Sophia Ashford. Bruised. Bloodied. But alive.
And beside her in the photo impossible, but undeniable was Sarah Chen.
Both women. Both captured. Both waiting to die.
They have them both, I breathed. Sarah and Sophia. Together.
Dominic stared at the photo, his expression unreadable.
It's not just a trap anymore, he said quietly. It's an execution. Victor's tying up all loose ends at once.
Then we save them both.
We can't save everyone, Nadia.
Watch me.
He looked at me like I was insane.
Maybe I was.
But I'd lost too many people to this conspiracy. I wasn't losing anyone else.
Nineteen hours, Dominic said. We have nineteen hours to plan the impossible.
Then we'd better start planning.
We turned to go inside.
His phone rang one final time.
Unknown number.
He answered on speaker.
A distorted voice the same one from the warehouse threat: Time's up on planning, Mr. Ashford. Ms. Cross. We're done playing games. If you want to save Sophia and Sarah, you'll meet us tomorrow at dawn. Pier 23. The old Ashford warehouse. Both of you. Unarmed. Or they die. And this time, we'll send you video of their deaths. Every. Single. Second.
The line went dead.
Dominic and I stared at each other.
Dawn was eight hours away.
Eight hours to save two lives.
Or lose everything.