Ava stood outside the crumbling townhouse in Lower Manhattan, her breath clouding in the evening air. The address had led her to a brownstone with peeling paint and ironwork that looked like it had seen decades of silence.
No bodyguards. No Damian.
Just her.
She rang the bell.
A moment later, the door creaked open.
The woman who stood there looked like Isabelle. Not perfectly—but enough. Same sharp cheekbones, same wary eyes. She wore a threadbare sweater, hair tied back like she didn't care who she impressed.
"You came," she said.
"You said you were Isabelle's sister."
"I am," she replied. "Name's Naomi. Isabelle and I shared a father. He wasn't exactly public about it."
Ava stepped inside, her instincts firing in every direction. But something about Naomi felt… honest. Wounded, but honest.
Naomi led her to a dusty living room and dropped a heavy box onto the coffee table.
"She left this with me the week before she died," Naomi said. "Told me to hold onto it. Told me if anything happened, someone would come looking."
The box was filled with old journals, hard drives, photographs… and a sealed envelope.
Ava opened it with shaking fingers.
Inside was a letter. Scrawled in Isabelle's elegant hand.
If you're reading this, I didn't survive it. I knew I wouldn't. Gerald made sure of that.
But he wasn't alone.
There was someone else there that night. Someone I trusted. Someone who made the call to finish what Gerald started.
Damian can't know. It would break him.
But maybe you can finish what I couldn't.
Ava stared at the page, her blood running cold.
"Someone else was there," she whispered.
Naomi nodded. "And if we find them, we find the real reason Isabelle died."
Ava looked up. "You're sure you're ready for this?"
Naomi gave a humorless smile. "I've waited ten years. I'm starving for the truth."
Suddenly, Ava's phone buzzed.
A single text from Damian.
Gerald's disappeared. Left the country. And Cecelia just called an emergency meeting—without me. Something's happening.
Ava clenched the letter in her hand.
If what Isabelle wrote was true, the betrayal wasn't over.
It had only just begun.
Damian strode into the Wolfe Foundation headquarters, where Cecilia was already seated at the long glass conference table. Her hair was pulled back tight, her mouth thinner than usual.
Three board members were with her—Renner, Katz, and Dominguez.
"You called this meeting without my authority," Damian said sharply.
Cecilia gave him a cool glance. "You no longer have the authority, dear. Not after the latest vote."
Damian didn't flinch. "There hasn't been a vote."
"There will be. Today."
Renner cleared his throat. "This isn't a full removal—just a temporary reassignment. Until the investigation concludes."
"You're folding to panic," Damian said. "Not logic."
"It's not panic," Cecilia replied smoothly. "It's strategy. You've been compromised. Ava Sinclair made sure of that."
He stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "You always hated her. Why?"
Cecilia didn't blink. "Because women like her believe passion justifies chaos. I spent my life keeping this empire standing. I won't let it burn for a fling."
"It's not a fling," Damian growled.
"No," she said. "It's your weakness."
Renner passed him a file. Damian opened it and stopped cold.
Inside were surveillance photos.
One of Ava in the elevator.
One of her entering Naomi's building.
And one more—taken ten years ago.
A grainy image of Isabelle… standing beside a man Damian hadn't seen in years.
Lucian Monroe.
Damian's voice dropped to a whisper. "He knew her. Even back then."
"He didn't just know her," Cecilia said. "He recruited her. She was part of his compliance unit. Do you understand what that means?"
Damian's stomach dropped.
"She was spying on Gerald?" he asked.
"On both of us," Cecilia said. "But she got too close. Too emotional. Lucian sent her in to monitor your father. But she started asking questions about you."
"And that's when she became a threat."
Cecilia looked him dead in the eye. "You're not the only Wolfe who loved Isabelle. But you were the only one who didn't see her coming."
Damian backed away from the table. The room spun.
She wasn't just a victim. She had been a plant.
At least at the beginning.
And now, the woman he loved—the one tearing everything down to avenge Isabelle—had no idea she was chasing a lie built by Lucian from the start.
Back at Naomi's brownstone, Ava stared at the battered hard drive spinning to life. Files loaded slowly—old surveillance logs, encrypted messages, and one folder labeled simply: "For Her."
Inside were four audio recordings.
Ava clicked the final one.
The static cleared.
Then Isabelle's voice, raw and afraid:
"Lucian, I did everything you asked. I stayed close to Gerald. I documented everything. But Damian… it's different with him."
Lucian's voice responded, clipped and sharp:
"You weren't sent there to fall for the mark."
"He's not the mark anymore."
"You let him in."
"He loved me."
Silence crackled for a moment before Isabelle spoke again.
"I'm not giving you the files. Not until you promise to leave Damian out of this."
"You don't get to negotiate with me, Isabelle."
"Then I'll burn everything. I swear, Lucian—if you hurt him, I'll ruin you."
The recording ended.
Ava sat frozen.
So it was true. Isabelle had been a plant… but she'd turned against Lucian in the end. She'd tried to shield Damian.
Tried—and died for it.
"I need to show this to Damian," Ava whispered.
Naomi didn't answer.
When Ava turned, she found Naomi standing perfectly still. Eyes unreadable. Voice cold.
"You shouldn't have heard that."
"What?"
Naomi stepped forward. "I didn't bring you here just to help you uncover the truth. I needed to see if you had the courage to follow it. All the way."
Ava stood slowly. "What are you talking about?"
Naomi tilted her head. "You think I'm just Isabelle's sister? No. I'm Lucian's leverage. He found me first. Trained me. I was the failsafe if Isabelle flipped."
"No," Ava whispered.
Naomi reached into the fireplace beside her and pulled out a second box—steel, locked. "This has everything. The rest of the blackmail files. The names. The transactions. The proof of what Wolfe Industries buried."
"Why show me this now?"
Naomi's expression softened, just a little. "Because like Isabelle, I don't want Damian to pay for his father's sins. But the moment you open this box… there's no coming back."
Ava's heart pounded. "So what do you want me to do?"
Naomi walked to the door and looked back. "You have a choice. Expose it all—and break him. Or bury it, and live with the lie."
And then she was gone.
Ava stood in the penthouse, the steel box clutched to her chest like a ticking bomb. Damian burst through the doors moments later, his eyes wild.
"Where is she?" he demanded.
"Naomi's gone," Ava said quietly.
Damian's jaw was tight. "She lied to you."
"No," Ava corrected. "She told me the truth. All of it."
She placed the steel box on the table between them. Neither moved.
"She was Lucian's plant," Damian said. "Just like Isabelle was, in the beginning. They were watching us."
Ava nodded. "But Isabelle turned. Naomi tried to. And now we're left with this."
He stared at the box, like it might detonate. "What's in it?"
"Everything Gerald tried to erase. Every dirty deal. Every victim. Names of allies. Judges. Investors. The rot goes deeper than even you guessed."
Damian's hands balled into fists. "You're telling me we could wipe Wolfe Industries off the map with this."
"Yes," Ava whispered. "But it would take your name with it."
He looked at her then—truly looked. And his voice broke.
"Tell me something, Ava. If I hadn't touched you… if I hadn't wanted you the way I did… would you have still come this far?"
She stepped closer. "Damian… I didn't fall for a name. I fell for the man who held me like I was something fragile and fought like I was something worth bleeding for."
He exhaled slowly, pain and desire warring in his eyes.
"So what happens now?"
"I open the box," she said, "unless you tell me not to."
Silence.
Then—
"Do it."
Her fingers slid over the latch. The seal cracked.
Inside: hard drives. Ledgers. One photo on top. Isabelle and Damian, smiling. Real.
And beneath it—a USB stick labeled Project Echo.
Ava reached for it—just as the window behind them shattered.
A bullet screamed past her ear.
Damian grabbed her, pulled her down. Alarms blared.
"Sniper," he growled, dragging her behind the marble island.
"Lucian knows," Ava gasped. "He's coming for it."
Damian pulled his phone. "I'm getting us out. We finish this—tonight."
She looked at him, heart racing.
"You're still with me?" she asked.
He grabbed the box and met her gaze.
"Now and always."