Chapter Twenty-Eight: Return of the Hacker.
Jeremiah's Penthouse.
Jeremy's day had started like every other since she disappeared—phone calls he ignored, meetings he rescheduled, and food he barely touched. But when his phone buzzed that morning with an anonymous text, the monotony cracked.
Check the folder marked 'Truth'.
His eyes narrowed, heart hammering. There was no name, no indication of who sent it—but the use of the word "Truth" made his skin crawl. He tapped the link embedded in the message and watched as a zip file downloaded to his secure server.
The folder opened automatically on his large monitor, the dim blue light of the early morning filtering through the blinds of his penthouse. He stared, frozen, at the screen as thumbnails lined up before him—security footage, files with timestamps, audio clips.
Then he clicked the first video.
Tony's assistant.
Jeremy's pupils dilated as the screen showed the woman in a tight black dress slinking down the corridor of the Grand Orchid Hotel. She held something in her hand—some kind of device. She paused at his door, looked around, and tampered with the lock. Then the feed shifted. Same timestamp. Different angle. The hallway again—this time, a hotel staffer pushing a trolley with an unconscious figure beneath the sheet.
Jeremy leaned forward, gripping the armrests.
It was Tammy.
She was completely out cold, being wheeled into his room like she was luggage.
The silence in the room was so thick he could hear his own blood rushing through his ears. The next video loaded—interior camera. A man in a sharp gray suit entered, clearly not hotel staff. Tony's assistant met him at the door. They exchanged something. The man nodded, walked straight to Jeremy's bedside, and dropped a small bottle into the drawer.
The drugs.
He watched himself sleeping in the bed, unaware. Minutes passed, and then the final clip began—Tammy was brought in and gently laid beside him. There was no kiss. No seduction. No consent.
Just two unconscious bodies arranged to spark scandal.
Then the man tapped Tammy and Jeremy who awoke. He quickly left the room.
Jeremy couldn't breathe. He reached for his phone, hands trembling, and called Zion.
"Get to my place. Now."
Zion arrived within fifteen minutes. So did Tobi. Wale showed up ten minutes later, carrying two bottles of water and a grim expression.
Jeremy didn't say a word as they all filed in. He just replayed the video from the start.
By the end, none of them were speaking. Not even Tobi, who always had something sarcastic to say. Wale looked sick. Zion stood the entire time, hands clenched, jaw tight.
"I told you," Zion finally said, breaking the suffocating silence. "I told you she was innocent."
Jeremy's eyes were bloodshot. He hadn't moved since the video ended. He just stared at the final frame—Tammy's unconscious body beside his.
Wale sat heavily on the arm of the couch. "That bastard set you both up. This whole thing was orchestrated. It seems this is the realest video. Cause we have seen three different scenarios but this looks more real."
Tobi looked at Zion. "You've been digging into this the whole time?"
Zion nodded slowly. "Yeah. But this… this changes everything. We have proof now."
Jeremy finally blinked. "She sent it."
Zion turned. "What?"
Jeremy pointed at the phone. "That message. The folder. That was her."
Tobi's brow furrowed. "You sure?"
"I know it."
Zion crouched beside him, eyes searching his. "Then she's trying to come back. You need to be ready, bro. Because when she does... it's going to be a mess."
Jeremy finally stood, jaw tightening as he stared down at the screen.
"No," he said. "When she comes back, it's not going to be a mess."
He paused.
"It's going to be war."
Meanwhile, across the city, Tammy sat in a rundown guesthouse. Her hoodie was pulled low, her laptop shut. She watched the last trace of the files upload onto a mirrored server. The triple-layered encryption was active. Everything was backed up. Nothing could be wiped this time.
She stared at her reflection in the dark laptop screen. Her cheeks were gaunt. Her eyes sunken. Her skin pale.
But her heart?
Her heart was finally calm.
It was done.
She stood slowly, grabbing her bag. The burner phone beeped. A reply.
Message delivered. Folder opened.
No name. No fuss. Just confirmation.
She let out a slow breath and whispered to herself, "Time to go home."