The morning light had barely crept past the curtains when Alex slipped out of the penthouse. She didn’t bother saying goodbye to Luca or Nova—didn’t want questions or guilt clinging to her when her hands were already full of consequences. Her room remained untouched, wrecked as it had been since last night’s break-in. She left a note for the janitor, asking him to clean it during the usual weekly sweep. He’d see the chaos and probably assume it was just another mess left behind by her usual whirlwind of work.
But Alex had no time for appearances today.
She wasn’t going to the company, and she definitely wasn’t going to pretend things were normal. Instead, she made her way across the city to the small café tucked far from the center—where anonymity lived and whispers could pass undisturbed. The same place where secrets had been traded like currency over the past few weeks.
Michael and Brenda were already seated when she arrived. Both of them looked like they hadn’t slept either—eyes dark, backs slumped, fingers curled around their coffee mugs like lifelines. Alex joined them, grabbed her own black coffee, and chugged half of it in one go. She didn’t even flinch at the bitterness.
This was the look of Alex that both Michael and Brenda knew well: super-energized, driven by pure will and caffeine, and this could mean only one thing—she found a new thing to obsess over. Before, it could be work, a new case, some news. Now? It could only be something that could be used against Zade.
“I’ve got an idea,” she said, setting the cup down with a thud.
Michael raised a brow. Brenda blinked.
“We need help,” Alex continued, voice sharp, clipped. “Not just from each other. We’ve done our best, but we’re amateurs. It’s not enough.”
“You want to go to the police?” Brenda asked cautiously.
Alex scoffed. “God, no. You think the police can take down the Hales? They’re probably half-owned by them. No. I’m hiring someone.”
“A hitman?” Michael offered, only half-joking.
“A private investigator.”
That got both of them sitting up straighter.
Alex leaned in, lowering her voice. “Arthur Cane. Heard of him?”
Brenda frowned. “That name sounds... familiar.”
“He’s known in all the circles that matter. He’s not just a PI—he’s the guy who chooses which cases are worthy of his time. The guy people with secrets are terrified of.”
Michael whistled low. “And he agreed to take yours?”
“I contacted him last night. Told him just enough to catch his interest. He wants to meet today.”
“And you’re sure about this?” Brenda’s tone was hesitant, her brows furrowed with concern. “Alex... this isn’t just about risking money. You’ll be putting your life in the hands of a man you barely know. What if—”
“Brenda,” Alex cut her off, looking her friend square in the eye. “Nothing about my life is safe lately.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
Brenda eventually nodded, though the frown didn’t leave her face. “Fine. I just hope he’s worth the risk.”
Michael clapped Alex on the back. “You’ve got this. Hell, if anyone can outsmart Zade Hale, it’s you—with or without Arthur Cane.”
Alex smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes but still carried weight. “Thanks.”
They wrapped up soon after that. The meeting wasn’t meant for strategy—just to plant the seed. And now that the seed was in the ground, it was time to water it.
***
By noon, Alex was sitting in her father’s office. The Steel nameplate gleamed on the desk before her, the leather chair creaking beneath her as she signed documents she barely read. Legal papers, supplier approvals, company statements—it was all routine now. Mechanical. A way to keep her hands busy while her mind reeled with the weight of bigger wars.
When the knock came, it was precise. Not loud, not soft. Just... confident.
She looked up.
Arthur Cane stepped into the room.
He was exactly how she imagined—tall, dressed in a tailored black coat and slacks, hair dark and swept back, skin pale against the stark contrast of his suit. His eyes were colder than winter, yet sharp, calculating. There was something about the way he moved—like a man who’d walked into fire before and never flinched.
“Miss Steel,” he greeted.
“Mr. Cane. Thank you for coming.”
They sat. No handshake. No wasted pleasantries.
Alex launched into it.
She didn’t sugarcoat a single thing.
She told him about the arranged engagement with Zade Hale, about how the Hale family had been circling her family’s company like vultures. She told him about Luca not believing her, about Nova’s deteriorating health, and how she was out of time, out of options.
Arthur listened without interruption, pen occasionally scratching across his notebook. He didn’t nod or react. Just... absorbed.
“I need proof,” Alex finished. “Real proof. Not allegations, not rumors. Something I can use to break this engagement and bury the Hales.”
For a beat, he said nothing. Then he closed the notebook slowly.
“The Hales,” he repeated. “You know how many people have tried to expose them?”
“I’m guessing none succeeded.”
“None lived long enough to finish.”
Alex didn’t flinch. “Then I’ll be the first.”
Arthur leaned back slightly, appraising her.
“Your case is interesting. Dangerous. Politically and economically loaded. Normally, I don’t touch family drama.”
“This isn’t family drama,” she said coldly. “This is attempted corporate murder.”
A pause.
He cracked the faintest smirk.
“Alright. I’ll take the case.”
Relief bloomed across her chest, hot and fast, like oxygen after suffocation.
“Payment details later,” he added, standing. “For now, I’ll begin the preliminary investigations. Don’t contact me unless it’s urgent. I’ll reach out when I have something.”
She nodded. “Understood.”
He turned to leave, pausing briefly in the doorway.
“You were right to hire me, Miss Steel,” he said without looking back. “But remember—getting close to the Hales is one thing. Getting out alive is another.”
Then he was gone.
Alex stayed in the chair long after the door shut.
Her fingers hovered over her laptop’s keys, but she didn’t type. For once, she wasn’t working. She wasn’t running or unraveling. She was just... sitting.
For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel like she was losing.
Hiring Arthur Cane might’ve been the boldest move she’d made since this all started. Risky. Dangerous. Maybe even stupid. But it felt right.
She’d thrown a stone into the lion’s den. And now she just had to wait and see if the lion would bleed.