Morning — Safehouse Conference Room
The sun barely kissed the sky when Ivy pressed "send."
The press release—leaked anonymously through a protected server—contained damning evidence. Fund transfers, manipulated charity audits, shell companies linking Vincent Hale to humanitarian embezzlement and trafficking.
She expected fear. Instead, she felt something close to power.
Aiden sat across from her at the long table, brows furrowed. "The media's already running with it. It's trending in five countries."
"Good," she replied. "Let them see who he really is."
"You realize this could escalate things."
"It already has."
His gaze lingered on her face. There was pride in his silence. But also fear.
"You're not who I left behind," he murmured.
"No. She died in a hospital bed with a baby in her arms and no one to call."
He flinched. Again.
She softened slightly. "But you helped bring her back last night. One choice at a time."
---
Elsewhere — Vincent's Estate
Vincent's mansion echoed with tension as news headlines exploded across every major outlet. Screens around his office blinked with phrases like Humanitarian Fraud Scandal and Hale Family Exposed.
His fingers tightened around a whiskey tumbler.
She was smarter than he remembered.
"You underestimated her," said the woman beside him—Sophia Locke, the one who handled his 'clean-ups.'
"I made her strong. Now she's using it against me."
"You taught Aiden too well. Now he's doing the same."
Vincent's jaw clenched. "Then it's time I remind them who gave them everything."
Sophia handed him a folder. "We intercepted communications from the safehouse. You'll want to see this."
His eyes flicked over a transcript of Ivy's press message. Then—his smile turned cold.
"She thinks she's starting a war," he said. "But I've already ended it."
---
Safehouse — Later That Afternoon
The air was thick with unease. Leo was drawing in the corner, oblivious to the tension pulsing in every adult body.
Maddie clutched a USB drive in her palm. "There's more. I have access to a secure internal server Vincent forgot I was tied to. Names. Transactions. Contracts."
Ivy took it, nodding. "Let's finish what we started."
That's when the door buzzed.
Everyone froze.
It wasn't supposed to. No visitors. No deliveries. No signals.
Aiden reached for his weapon, moving with lethal calm. "Stay with Leo," he told Ivy.
He opened the door.
There was no one outside.
Only a briefcase.
---
Hours Later — Living Room
The briefcase sat on the table. Inside: a burner phone, a photo, and a single sheet of paper.
The photo was of Ivy. Holding Leo. Smiling.
The paper held only a time. Midnight.
And the words: Let's finish this. Alone.
Aiden's fists curled. "It's a trap."
Ivy stared at the photo, pulse pounding. "It's a message."
"He wants to separate us. He's done this before."
"I know," she whispered. "But I'm not the same girl he left behind."
---
Later That Night — Aiden's Room
Ivy stood at the door, quiet.
Aiden looked up. He was shirtless, bruised from the warehouse. His eyes betrayed exhaustion—but also something more vulnerable.
She walked in without a word and sat beside him on the bed.
"If I go," she whispered, "will you let me?"
"No."
Her throat tightened.
"But I'll follow you anyway," he added.
Her eyes searched his face. "Why?"
"Because I spent too many years pretending you didn't matter. That I could live without knowing if you were safe. I'm done pretending."
She reached out, fingers tracing the scar on his ribs. "Tell me something true."
"I never stopped looking for you."
She closed her eyes.
"And I think I fell in love with you the moment you screamed at me in that hospital lobby."
Ivy laughed. Then cried. Quietly. Softly.
He kissed her—slowly, tenderly, like he was scared she'd vanish.
---
Midnight — Private Airstrip Outside the City
Vincent's private jet loomed like a vulture.
Ivy stepped out of the car, coat drawn tight, heels sharp on concrete. Aiden remained in the shadows of the hangar, gun in hand, waiting for her signal.
Vincent descended from the stairs, flanked by two men in suits.
"I expected a call," he said, voice amused.
"I'm done playing your games."
"Oh, but Ivy, this is only the beginning."
She handed him a folder—copies of everything she leaked, and more.
"This goes public tomorrow. I suggest you run."
He chuckled. "You really think the world will protect you? You think Aiden can keep you safe forever?"
She raised a brow. "No. But he'll die trying. And now, so will I."
Vincent studied her for a moment.
Then smiled.
"Good," he said. "Because I've just decided—I want the boy too."
Her blood ran cold.
Behind her, Aiden stepped out of the shadows, gun raised.
"Try it," he growled.
---
Gunfire. Chaos. A Standoff.
The next seconds blurred—shouts, screams, bodies falling.
Vincent retreated into the jet, wounded. Aiden tackled one of his men while Ivy disarmed the other. Her hands shook, but she didn't back down.
The air reeked of smoke and betrayal.
Sirens in the distance.
Aiden grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the car.
"They'll be back," he said breathlessly.
"Then let them come."