The city pulsed beneath Maria's window like a beast in waiting—glittering lights, endless noise, and secrets that crawled under its polished surface. But inside her apartment, the air was still. Too still.
Maria stood at the center of her living room, clutching the envelope she'd just received.
Inside was a gold key, small and ornate, like something from a safe deposit box or private vault. Taped to it was a single white card.
> "Well played. But every king falls.
Phase Five begins."
Her stomach twisted. The tone was familiar—cold, mocking, and intentional.
Not Dana.
Blake.
She'd forced his hand.
But it wasn't over. Not even close.
---
Later that morning, Maria met Ian in his private office at Ross Global. He was waiting for her, jaw clenched, eyes locked on his tablet as news broke across business media:
> "Ross Global Senior Advisor Resigns Amid Financial Scandal"
Maria tossed the gold key on his desk.
He looked up. "What's this?"
"Phase Five," she said. "Blake sent it."
Ian picked up the key, turning it between his fingers. "Looks like it's from a secure archive. Could be one of those legacy vaults at the old Hunterson Estate."
Maria nodded. "Blake used to hold private meetings there. My father never trusted him."
Ian leaned back. "If there's a vault, there's leverage. Contracts, blackmail, records. Maybe even something tying Victor or Dana to prior jobs."
"We need to get inside," Maria said.
Ian's voice was firm. "We will. Tonight."
---
By evening, they arrived at the Hunterson Estate—an ivy-covered mansion on the edge of the city, abandoned for years but still monitored by discreet private security. Ian had made arrangements.
"Surveillance is down for the next two hours," he said, guiding Maria through a side entrance. "We'll be ghosts."
The vault was behind a panel in the old wine cellar, hidden by crates of dusty Merlot bottles. The key slid in with a quiet click.
Maria hesitated for a second. Then she turned it.
Inside the narrow vault, everything was organized—too organized. Files, flash drives, bound notebooks with dates and initials. But one box stood out. It had her name on it.
M.S.
She pulled it down and opened it.
Inside were photos—dozens of her and Ian, taken over the years. Some from events. Others candid. A few from angles that made her skin crawl.
"He was watching me," she whispered.
Ian flipped through another folder labeled "Operation Milan."
Dana's name was all over it.
So was Victor Renn's.
And Andrew Blake's signature, printed at the bottom of a document titled:
> Proposal: Project Marionette — Phase I–V
Ian's face darkened. "This isn't just embezzlement or corporate sabotage."
Maria closed the box, her throat tight. "They were orchestrating my life."
---
One folder showed payment records dating back six years. Bribes. Surveillance contracts. Even payments made to two of Maria's former assistants.
Another file contained a digital recorder labeled "Insurance – Victor".
Ian played it.
> Victor's voice:
"She's smart. But she won't survive Phase Five. You know that, right?"
Blake's voice:
"Let her try. If she wants to die twice, I won't stop her."
Maria turned cold.
They never expected her to return.
And they still didn't think she'd win.
---
As they finished photographing everything, Ian turned to her. "This is it. The kind of proof that can dismantle their empire."
Maria met his gaze. "Then let's burn it down."
---
They left the estate just minutes before a black SUV pulled into the driveway.
Inside it, Dana stepped out, flanked by two men in dark coats. She walked into the house, heels sharp against the tile.
Downstairs, she found the vault door wide open.
Empty.
She stared at the dust where the box labeled "M.S." used to be.
Her eyes narrowed.
"They were here."
Victor stepped out of the shadows, expression unreadable.
"You said the estate was secure," Dana snapped.
Victor shrugged. "They're always two steps ahead lately."
Dana spun on him. "We've lost control. Blake is out. The board is watching me. And Maria has the files."
Victor tilted his head. "Then maybe it's time we go back to Phase One."
Dana frowned. "What do you mean?"
He stepped closer.
"Eliminate the problem."
---
Back at Maria's apartment, the walls felt tighter than usual.
She placed the photos, drives, and recordings in a secure case and handed it to Ian.
"This is everything we need," she said. "We go public in two days. Let them panic."
Ian reached for her hand. "We're not letting them win."
But Maria didn't smile.
Because something still gnawed at her. Something that hadn't clicked yet.
She stared out the window, watching the streetlight flicker.
And then it hit her.
"Wait," she said slowly. "Why would Blake send me a vault key if it held the evidence that could ruin him?"
Ian looked up, brow furrowed. "Maybe he thought we wouldn't get to it in time."
Maria shook her head. "No. That's not Blake. He doesn't leave threads. That key… he wanted us to find it."
Ian's face darkened. "A trap?"
Suddenly, a soft chirp came from Maria's phone.
A text message.
Unknown number.
No name.
Just words.
> "You found the past. Now let's rewrite the future.
See you soon, Maria."
Her hands went cold.
Ian stepped closer. "What is it?"
She turned the screen to him.
"I think… we were never the ones chasing them."
She swallowed hard.
"They've been leading us here from the beginning."