Chapter 4

The safe house was an anonymous apartment in a part of the city I'd never been to. It was clean, impersonal, and secure. For the next ten days, it was my entire world. My old life, my home filled with lies, my lab-it all felt a million miles away.

I wasn' t hiding. I was preparing for war. Francine' s team, a small group of forensic accountants and tech specialists, worked with me around the clock. My job was to give them the ammunition they needed.

I sat with them for hours, detailing every patent, every algorithm, every single line of code that was mine. I explained how TerraGen's core technology was inextricably linked to my name, my mind. I walked them through the schematics for Project Icarus, the next-generation work they thought they had stolen. I showed them how my foundational patents made Icarus impossible to build without my consent.

It was a strange feeling, dissecting my life's work not for scientific discovery, but for legal destruction. With every document I signed and every piece of evidence I provided, I felt a part of my old self falling away. I was no longer just a scientist. I was the architect of their downfall.

One of Francine' s investigators, a quiet man named David, specialized in digging up dirt. He returned on the fifth day with a file.

"We found them," he said, placing a folder on the table. "The second family."

He laid out photos. A beautiful, modern house in a gated community an hour outside the city. The woman's name was Amelia. The boy's name was Leo. David had also uncovered financial records. Clay had been funding her and Abel's entire life for five years, funneling money through a series of shell corporations linked to Josiah Klein.

"There's more," David said, pointing to a calendar invitation he'd intercepted. "The IPO is next Friday. On Thursday night, Josiah Klein is hosting a private pre-launch party at his estate. The entire inner circle will be there. Clay, Abel, Caroline Peters. They're planning to celebrate their victory."

Francine, who was on a video call with us, smiled grimly. "Perfect. The stage is set."

The plan was simple. At 9 p.m. on Thursday, at the height of their celebration, Francine would walk into that party. She would serve the papers. The world they had built would come crashing down around them while they held champagne glasses.

The days crawled by. I ate, slept, and worked. The cold anger sustained me. But at night, in the quiet of the anonymous apartment, the pain would sometimes surface. The memory of Clay' s smile, the feeling of his hand in mine. It was all a lie, but the memory still had the power to hurt.

On Wednesday, the day before the party, my burner phone rang. It was an unknown number. I almost didn't answer. But a premonition, a cold dread, made me press the button.

"Elle? Is that you?"

It was Clay.

My blood ran cold. How did he get this number?

"Where are you?" he demanded, his voice tight with an emotion I couldn't place. It wasn't concern. It was annoyance. "You just disappeared. Your phone is off. You haven't been to the lab. People are asking questions. The IPO is in two days, Elle. I need you here."

He needed me. Not that he was worried about me. He needed his asset in place.

I took a breath, forcing the ice back into my voice. "I needed some space, Clay. I went to the cabin by the lake."

It was a lie, but a plausible one. It was my one personal indulgence, a small, rustic cabin I had bought with my own money before TerraGen.

There was a pause. "Why didn't you tell me? I was worried sick."

"I'm sorry," I said, the words tasting like poison. "I've just been feeling... overwhelmed. The pressure of the IPO, I guess. I'll be back tomorrow night. In time for the party."

His tone softened immediately. The crisis was averted. The asset was coming back online.

"Okay, honey. Good. I'm glad you're okay. I can't wait to see you. We're so close, Elle. Everything we've worked for."

"I know," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I hung up the phone, my hand steady. The performance was over. That was the last lie I would ever tell him. Tomorrow, he would hear nothing but the truth.