Alex didn’t even pack.
She threw on a jacket, shoved her phone in the glove box, and drove. No calls. No emails. No more betrayal, secrets, or schemes.
Before leaving the city limits, she sent one text:
Alex: Dad, I’ll be away for a few days. Nothing’s wrong. Don’t worry.
It wasn’t a lie, not entirely. She was going for work. This might be her only chance at a real lead—David Brown. Ex-partner of the Hales. Enemy, supposedly. And somewhere deep down, she knew she also needed this drive. This silence. This space away from Michael’s betrayal. From Brenda’s judging eyes. From Arthur’s pressure. From Zade.
Zade.
She gripped the steering wheel tighter, jaw clenching at the memory of his face. The way he had chased her out of the Hales tower. The way he’d looked genuinely surprised about the shares... like he wasn’t the one pulling the strings this time. But that was the thing with Zade. You could never tell where the lie ended and the truth began.
By dusk, the city lights blurred behind her. She drove through the night, headlights slicing open miles of empty road. At gas stations, she filled up and grabbed junk food. Around midnight, she parked in a dirt lot behind an abandoned diner and fell asleep with the car locked, her head resting against the window.
By the second morning, her back ached and her brain buzzed with a strange calm. Her phone stayed off.
No Zade. No drama. Just her.
Her destination was a small town, half-faded off the map and steeped in rumors. The kind of place people whispered about but never visited. Rusted signs. Cracked sidewalks. Shadows in alleys. And at the heart of it all—an old half-abandoned building that looked like it had survived a war.
This was the drug den. It stank of smoke, sweat, and secrets.
Alex stepped inside.
The lobby—if you could even call it that—was dark, lit only by a flickering lightbulb swinging overhead. People leaned against walls, glassy-eyed, watching her. Men. Women. Broken souls and hard stares. She walked forward, keeping her shoulders straight and her chin high.
She passed a hallway lined with mismatched doors. Paint peeled from the walls. A rat scurried across the floor. The building groaned with every step.
At the end of the hall, there was a room with no door. Standing in front of it was a man—built like a wall, arms crossed, sleeves rolled up, eyes like a hawk. Definitely not one of the junkies. He had a gun tucked into his waistband and a scar over his lip.
Alex stopped in front of him. “I’m here to see Mr. Brown.”
The man didn’t move. “Turn around. You’re not welcome.”
“I’m Alexandra Steel,” she said, voice firm. “He’ll want to see me.”
Before he could respond, a voice came from inside the room. Calm. Cold.
“Let her in, Marty. I know who that is.”
Marty glanced over his shoulder, then stepped aside.
Alex entered.
The room was surprisingly clean. Old wooden floors. A single desk. A leather armchair. But what struck her most was the man standing near the window, back straight, posture relaxed, smoking a dark cigar that smelled expensive and lethal.
David Brown.
He was tall, dressed in a black suit that looked far too luxurious for the filth around them. His dark hair was slicked back, his jawline sharp, his hands steady.
He didn’t greet her. Just watched her in the reflection of the window. “So. The Steel heiress came all the way down to my hole in the wall. How dramatic.”
“I came because I need your help,” Alex said, cutting to the point.
He turned, finally meeting her gaze. His eyes were dark and unreadable. “Help? From me?”
“With the Hales.”
David let out a low, cynical laugh. “Of course. Everyone’s favorite villains. Why does everyone think I’m dying to take them down?”
Alex blinked. “Because you used to be close. And now you’re not. Something happened. I figured... they’re your enemies now. And they’re mine, too.”
“Mm,” he hummed, dragging on his cigar. “You figured wrong, kid.”
She stiffened. “You won’t even hear what I’m offering?”
“Oh, I know what you’ll offer,” he said, turning and walking toward his desk. “Money. Connections. Some pathetic favor. Maybe your loyalty.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “And that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”
Alex narrowed her eyes. “Then why did you let me in?”
“I wanted to see the face of the little Steel girl bold enough to walk into my place and act like she matters here.” His voice dripped with contempt.
Her fists clenched at her sides. “I’m not here to play games.”
“Good,” he said with a smile. “Because I’m not playing either.”
Alex stepped forward. “I’m serious. Whatever you want. You hate the Hales? Let me be your weapon. I’ll give you—”
“No,” he said sharply, snuffing out the cigar on the edge of the desk. “That’s exactly why I’ll never work with you. You’re desperate. And desperate people always screw you over when the tides shift.”
His voice went low. Dangerous. “You come from money. From power. You don’t know what it means to owe someone. Or to bleed for what you want. The moment this becomes inconvenient, you’ll run back to daddy. Or Zade. Or whoever’s leash you’re on.”
“I’m not on anyone’s leash,” Alex snapped.
“Prove it. Oh, wait. You can’t.”
Alex flinched.
David looked past her. “Marty.”
The guard stepped into view, already reaching for her arm.
“Escort Miss Steel out,” David said. “Make sure she doesn’t break her heel on the way.”
Alex slapped his hand away, but Marty grabbed her anyway, firm but not violent. “Get your filthy hands off me,” she growled.
David only smiled. “See? That’s the real you. Always spitting fire when you’re cornered. That’ll get you killed someday.”
Marty dragged her toward the hallway.
Alex twisted, yanking her arm out of his grip just before they reached the doorframe. She turned to glare at David one last time.
“I’ll find a way,” she hissed.
David didn’t look up from the glass he was pouring bourbon into. “Good luck with that.”
The door slammed behind her.
Alex stood in the hallway, breathing hard, surrounded by shadows and the stench of chemicals. The same junkies from before watched her with dull eyes.
She stormed out of the building, heels echoing against the cracked floorboards, fists clenched, and fury burning in her chest.
So much for the easy way.