The final hours in the apartment were a study in surreal tranquility. I made myself a cup of tea and sat by the window, watching the city breathe below. There was no panic, no frantic rush. My movements were calm, deliberate, each one severing another thread that tied me to this life. I wiped my personal laptop, a low-spec machine fit for Jane's simple needs, using a program that would leave nothing behind, not even the ghost of a file. I gathered the few personal items that were truly mine—a worn copy of a favorite book, a small, faded photograph of my mother—and placed them in my duffel bag.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Richard.
"Killed it! They loved the presentation. Deal is as good as done. Can't wait to celebrate with my beautiful wife tonight. Love you."
I looked at the message, at the casual, easy lie of the words "love you." A month ago, it would have sent a thrill through me. Now, it felt like a snake coiling in my gut. I didn't reply. I simply deleted the message, and then his entire contact history.
A few minutes later, another notification popped up on my screen. This one wasn't for me. It was a social media alert from an account I followed, one of the city's most voracious gossip bloggers. Serena had just posted a new photo. It was a selfie of her and Richard, taken just moments ago in the lobby of Sterling Innovations. They were beaming, Richard's arm wrapped tightly around Serena's waist, his thumb stroking her side in a gesture of intimate familiarity. The caption read: "Celebrating a HUGE win with the brilliant Richard Sterling! The sky's the limit! So proud! #powercouple #celebration #success"
Power couple. The audacity was breathtaking. She hadn't even waited for my body to be cold, metaphorically speaking. She was already stepping into my shoes, claiming my life. A cold smile touched my lips. She was welcome to the ashes.
The sight of the photo didn't hurt. It simply solidified my resolve. It was the final piece of evidence in a case that had already been closed, the final nail in a coffin I was about to seal.
My burner phone chimed with a single, discreet text from a number I didn't recognize: "Vehicle is in position. Awaiting Nightingale."
It was time.
I took one last look around the apartment. It was a beautiful, sterile cage, and I was finally free. I felt no nostalgia, no regret. Only the cold, clean thrill of liberation. I slung the black duffel bag over my shoulder. It was light, containing nothing but my future.
I walked out the door without looking back, closing it softly behind me. I didn't take the main elevator. Instead, I took the stairs down one flight to a service corridor, then took the service elevator down to the building's loading bay, just as Arthur's instructions had indicated. It was a route I had learned for emergencies years ago, a relic of my Thorne training. Always know more than one way out.
The loading bay was cool and smelled of disinfectant. A sleek, black sedan with heavily tinted windows was parked in a discreet corner, its engine humming silently. The driver's side door opened and a man in a simple, dark suit stepped out. He was built like a professional fighter, with a calm, watchful face. He simply nodded at me once, took my bag, and opened the rear door.
I slid onto the cool leather of the back seat. The door closed with a solid, satisfying thud, sealing me off from the world outside. The silence inside the car was absolute, a bubble of peace and power.
As the car pulled out of the loading bay and into the city traffic, I allowed myself one glance back at the gleaming glass tower that housed my old life. Richard was probably still up there, on top of the world, accepting congratulations and dreaming of the future he had stolen. He had no idea that the foundations of his kingdom were already crumbling, that the woman he thought of as a simple, lucky pet was driving away to unleash a war he could not possibly win.
I faced forward, my reflection a pale, determined ghost in the tinted window. Jane Sterling was gone. Eliza Thorne was on her way home. And hell was coming with her.