Morning light broke through the thin curtains, slicing through the remnants of sleep and leaving me with the aftertaste of Sophie's words. *"When Daniel decides you're a threat, he won't hesitate to burn you down."* The sentence replayed in my mind like a warning too easily dismissed.
I hadn't slept. I'd lain in bed, wide-eyed and silent, listening to the clock tick as my world shifted beneath me. Daniel. Jared. Sophie. Even Alex. Each name now carried shadows I hadn't noticed before. The more I tried to find solid ground, the more it felt like I was sinking into quicksand.
By the time I reached the park where Alex had asked to meet, I was wired with tension, my nerves thrumming like over-strung violin strings. He was already there, pacing beneath the canopy of trees, eyes flicking up when he saw me.
"Thanks for coming," he said without preamble.
"You said it's about Jared."
He nodded, reaching into his bag and pulling out a slim file. "I went back through some of the digital records—old messages, internal transfers, metadata Sophie likely never thought anyone would trace. Jared's name kept popping up in transactions linked to a holding company overseas. One of the same ones Sophie was funneling through."
I froze. "You think he's financing her?"
Alex shook his head. "I think he's been running a parallel operation—either as her silent partner or… her handler."
The idea chilled me more than I expected. Jared, the trusted one. The friend. The moral compass in a group of wavering lines. Could he have been orchestrating the entire deception?
"But why would Sophie be afraid of Daniel if Jared is the one behind it?" I asked.
Alex gave me a look. "Maybe because Daniel's not working for Jared anymore. Maybe the game shifted, and she doesn't know whose side he's really on."
I stared at the papers in his hand, each one a piece of a puzzle that was beginning to look less like betrayal and more like something far larger. Corporate espionage. Blackmail. Maybe even coercion.
"And there's more," Alex said. "Sophie wasn't bluffing when she said Daniel tried to protect you. I found encrypted messages between him and someone else. Someone warning him to keep you out of things. I haven't cracked the full encryption, but the sender's alias? 'Argentum.' Ring any bells?"
I shook my head, but the word lingered. Latin. Silver. Cold, beautiful, and deadly.
Alex looked unsettled now. "Whoever Argentum is… they've been calling shots from the beginning."
A silence settled between us before I finally asked, "Do you trust me, Alex?"
He looked surprised. "Of course."
"Then I need you to trust what I say next: I want to talk to Daniel. Alone."
He looked like I'd slapped him. "Are you out of your mind?"
"No. Just done being in the dark. If Daniel's been playing me, I'll find out. But if there's a part of him that was ever genuine, I need to know before this war escalates."
Alex hesitated, then finally said, "One meeting. And I want a backup plan in place. You're not going in blind."
Agreed.
—
I sent the message to Daniel that night. A simple, direct request. *We need to talk. Just us. No lies.*
His reply came within minutes: *Tomorrow. The old library. Noon.*
I wasn't sure whether to be nervous or relieved that he didn't hesitate.
The next day came with rain—grey and heavy, like the sky was mourning the secrets about to surface. The old library had long been abandoned by students for trendier coffee shops and study lounges, but its walls still whispered knowledge, history, and perhaps, in that moment, danger.
Daniel was already there when I walked in, standing by a window streaked with water, looking like something out of a noir film. Black coat, unreadable expression, and eyes that locked onto mine the second I stepped inside.
"You came," he said.
"I want the truth," I replied. "Not just your version of it."
He stepped closer. "You really think I've been lying to you?"
"I think everyone has," I said, voice steady. "But your lies? They matter more."
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but his voice stayed quiet. "I never meant to hurt you."
"Then explain."
He exhaled slowly. "I did work with Sophie, in the beginning. Not by choice. There was pressure—from people far above her, far beyond anything you'd believe. I tried to pull out. They made it clear that leaving wasn't an option. But then you came into the picture, and I realized what was really at stake."
"What was at stake, Daniel? Me?"
"No," he said fiercely. "Your integrity. Your name. Your *life*, Stacey. They would've used you to leverage others. I couldn't let that happen."
I watched him, trying to separate truth from manipulation. "And Jared?"
Daniel's expression darkened. "He was always in deeper than any of us. You think Sophie was a player? Jared owns the board."
The air between us crackled with tension.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered.
"Because I thought I could fix it from the inside," he said. "Because I didn't want to lose you."
It was then that I saw it—regret, real and raw, behind his eyes. But it didn't absolve him. Not entirely.
I stepped back. "It's too late for that."
Before he could reply, the sound of breaking glass echoed through the building.
I spun around, heart thudding.
"We're not alone," Daniel said, voice low.
We weren't.
—
Outside, hidden in the rain and the grey, someone had been watching. A figure cloaked in dark, moving with surgical precision.
And in their hand, a burner phone flashed with a message received.
Argentum: Phase II begins. Stacey is not to leave the building.