Alex paced the grand hallway of their penthouse, her fingers trembling slightly as she clutched the photograph in one hand and an old file folder in the other. Her mind refused to quiet, spinning with questions and a creeping dread that refused to loosen its grip. She hadn't slept. She hadn’t eaten. Nova was still at the hospital with Luca by her side, giving Alex the rare chance to tear through the layers of her family’s secrets without being watched.
And what she found chilled her.
The photo was old, sepia-toned, but unmistakable. It showed a much younger Luca as a boy, standing beside his father. On the other side of the frame stood a separate family, unfamiliar faces—except one. The man standing behind a young boy in the picture bore the same sharp jawline, intense stare, and crooked smirk she had come to recognize.
Zade Hale.
The name was scribbled in pen on the back of the photo: Hale Enterprise x Steel Company. March 1985. Her grandfather's attempt to strike a deal with the Hale family had ended in tragedy—he was found dead weeks later. No one ever confirmed the cause. No one ever found the killer. Alex’s stomach coiled. There was no way this was coincidence.
Zade Hale was not just some lucky businessman.
Fueled by rage and panic, Alex grabbed her coat, stuffed the photo and files into her purse, and stormed out. Her driver asked no questions as she barked the address she had discreetly gotten from Zade’s assistant days ago. It was time for answers.
Zade’s office was located in a sleek tower downtown. The kind of place that screamed "exclusive." Polished steel, high security, glass panels that reflected too much. Alex barely waited for the elevator to fully open before marching out and beelining for the executive suite.
Zade’s secretary started to protest her entrance, but Alex pushed through the double doors before she could be stopped.
Zade looked up from his desk, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. He stood slowly, fixing his tie, offering that same perfect smile he always wore around her.
"Alex," he greeted smoothly. "What a surprise. Should I be flattered or worried?"
She slammed the folder down on his desk. “Cut the act.”
Zade’s brows lifted. “Excuse me?”
“I know who you are,” Alex spat, her voice sharp. “Your last name isn’t just some pretty label on a nameplate. You’re part of that Hale family. The one my grandfather tried to make a deal with before he died. The one with criminal allegations so deep it would take decades to dig through. And now you’re crawling into my family under the pretense of marriage?”
Zade’s mask didn’t fall all at once. It cracked slowly, piece by piece. The smile faded first, replaced with a neutral stillness. Then his posture stiffened, and his gaze darkened.
He moved around the desk slowly, almost lazily. “You’ve been busy,” he said at last, his voice devoid of the warmth he once offered. “Digging through files, playing detective. I must say, I didn’t expect you to be this resourceful.”
Alex clenched her fists. “So you admit it.”
“I admit nothing,” he replied coolly, stepping closer. “Because you have nothing. Just a photograph. A name. A theory. None of which would ever hold up if you tried to go public. You’re chasing ghosts, Alex. Dangerous ones.”
“You think I won’t tell my father?” she challenged.
He chuckled, low and dangerous. “Your father would laugh in your face. And if he doesn’t—he’ll never be able to prove anything. Do you really think you’ll get anyone to believe you over me?”
“I’ll find proof,” she swore, her voice trembling from rage. “I’ll tear down everything you built and—”
He stepped closer, so close she could smell the faintest trace of his cologne—clean, subtle, expensive. His face was cold now, eyes dead of all expression.
“You’re welcome to try,” he said softly, menace laced in his words. “But don’t forget who I am. And more importantly, don’t forget who you are. You’re nothing more than a pawn your father gave away for the illusion of peace. So play your part, Alex. Smile pretty. Wear the ring. And pretend you don’t know a thing.”
Alex’s breath caught in her throat. The heat in her cheeks burned with humiliation and fury. He turned his back to her, returning to his desk as if she no longer mattered.
“Now, if you’re done throwing a tantrum, I suggest you leave,” he added, dismissively.
She didn’t say another word. Her hands trembled as she turned and stormed out of his office, ignoring the secretary’s wide-eyed stare. The second she was back in the car, she gave the driver one order: “Home. Fast.”
She burst into the penthouse minutes later. Her footsteps echoed through the empty halls as she ran to her room, grabbed her bag, and rushed to Luca’s home office. She dumped the contents of her purse out on the desk—the folder, the photograph, the notes she scribbled during her research.
Except...
They weren’t there.
The photo was gone.
So were the scribbled notes. The file folder held nothing but blank sheets of paper. Even her printed articles, the copies of online sources she saved—vanished.
Alex's breath grew shallow. She fell to her knees, searching the desk drawers, pulling everything apart, flipping through her papers again and again.
Everything. Gone.
She stared at the empty desk, the taste of betrayal thick on her tongue. There was no doubt in her mind—Zade had gotten to it. He had someone follow her. Or worse, someone had been inside the house while she was gone. He was more dangerous than she imagined.
Her hands clenched. Her entire body shook.
He wanted her to stay quiet? To wear the ring? To smile and pretend?
Over her dead body.
She stood slowly, the fire in her chest reigniting like a flame under pressure.
If Zade thought she would be easy to silence—he picked the wrong Steel to mess with.