That evening, Hanna met Elordi in the parking lot of an abandoned strip mall. He leaned against his car, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he watched her approach.
“You’re late,” he said, flicking ash to the ground.
“Just tell me what you found,” Hanna snapped, crossing her arms.
Elordi smirked, reaching into his car to grab a file. “This,” he said, holding it out, “is Ciara’s Achilles’ heel.”
Hanna flipped through the pages, her eyes widening as she realized what she was looking at. Financial records, shady transactions, and evidence of Ciara using her parents’ influence to cover up her wrongdoings.
“This could ruin her,” Hanna whispered.
Elordi stepped closer, his voice dropping. “But it could also ruin you if you’re not careful.”
Hanna looked up at him, her heart pounding. “Why are you helping me, Elordi? What do you get out of this?”
Elordi’s smirk softened into something almost genuine. “Let’s just say I like watching you fight back.”
Hanna shook her head, stepping back. “This isn’t a game.”
“Isn’t it?” Elordi said, his voice laced with challenge. “Because you’re playing it better than anyone.”
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