Zara couldn't breathe.
The video had burned itself into her brain. Her father, Logan at that rooftop. That fall.
No one had pushed him.
But no one had saved him either.
And Logan had let her believe for years that it was suicide. Or shame. Not murder-by-neglect. Not silence either.
6:42 A.M. Logan's Apartment
She didn't call first. She didn't warn him.
She just showed up.
The doorman tried to stop her. He failed.
The elevator dinged. She stepped out.
The door was unlocked.
Typical Logan...careless and too sure of himself.
He was in the kitchen, shirtless, making coffee like the world wasn't on fire.
"You've seen it," he said, not even turning.
Zara blinked. "You knew?"
He finally turned to face her, mug in hand, expression unreadable.
"You were always going to find out eventually."
That was it.
No denial. No excuse.
She slapped him the mug flying out of his hand. It shattered on the marble.
"You stood there. On that roof. You let him fall."
Logan flinched. "I didn't push him, Zara."
"But you didn't stop him either."
"He wasn't going to stop," Logan said coldly. "He was broken. He knew what was coming. Jail, Public disgrace, Losing everything, Losing You. He made his choice."
"You don't get to rationalize it," she spat. "You could've grabbed him. You let him fall because it was easier."
Silence.
Then Logan stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"I did it for you."
Zara stared at him like he'd grown horns.
"No you did it to cover up your traces".
"He begged me not to tell you. Begged me to let you believe it was clean. That it wasn't ugly or violent. I kept that secret because he asked me to."
"Bullsh*t," she whispered. "You kept it because it was convenient."
He said nothing. And that silence told her everything.
She turned to leave.
But he caught her wrist. "Zara, wait..."
"Don't touch me," she snapped. "You're dead to me."
She didn't slam the door behind her.
She didn't need to. The silence was louder.
---
11:03 A.M. Wolfe Tower (Private Surveillance Suite)
Damian stared at a wall of monitors, security feeds, emails, digital trails, his jaw set, eyes bloodshot from no sleep.
Harrison Vance's face was on screen.
"Where's the last confirmed sighting?" he asked his security chief, Cain.
"JFK. Private terminal. Charter jet. Destination masked by shell company."
Damian exhaled hard. "Find him. I don't care what it takes."
Cain hesitated. "And when we do?"
Damian looked at him. Eyes cold. Voice lethal.
"I want to look him in the face when he begs."
---
2:10 P.M. Zara's Office
Bridget knocked twice, then opened the door.
"You okay?"
Zara didn't look up. "No."
Bridget slid in placing a file onto her desk. "We traced the IP where that rooftop video was uploaded from."
Zara's heart stuttered.
"Where?"
"Brooklyn. Warehouse owned by one of Harrison's ghost corps. Same guy who funded Logan's legal firm after he left you."
Zara's stomach turned.
Logan hadn't just lied. He'd been funded by the same man who destroyed her family.
This went deeper than betrayal. It was war.
---
Damian's Penthouse.
That night, they didn't speak much.
Zara curled into his chest on the couch, both of them silent, the storm between them momentarily stilled.
Damian held her tighter than usual.
He knew what she'd learned.
She didn't even had to say it.
She whispered, "My father didn't jump. He fell off".
Damian brushed a hand through her hair. "He was human. Men like him… like us… we're built to rise until the weight crushes us."
"You're not like him."
He tilted her chin. "I'm worse."
Zara's breath caught. But she didn't pull away. She leaned in.
And kissed him slow. Soft. Devastating.
Because sometimes love didn't feel like salvation.
It felt like surrender.
---
2:33 A.M.
Zara's phone buzzed.
A new message.
From an anonymous number.
~You think it ends with Logan?
You think Harrison's the last threat?
Look deeper, Zara. Look into Wolfe's past.
You're sleeping beside a man who's buried more than your father's secrets.
Start with: Verona — 2009.
Zara stared at the text.
Then at Damian sleeping peacefully beside her.
Verona?
She'd never heard him mention it.
And now she wasn't sure she ever really knew him at all.