Chapter Six: The Name in the File

I stared at the photo. My face. My body. My life, frozen in time outside a coffee shop I barely remembered.

But it wasn’t the image that chilled me. It was the handwritten scrawl on the back:

“Monroe, Potential Leverage. Connected to J.W.”

Dated: Three weeks before I met Killian Lennox.

I slowly turned to him, holding it like evidence.

“What. Is. This.”

Killian was still, too still, like a statue carved in guilt and steel.

“Tell me the truth,” I said, stepping back, pulse pounding.

He looked at the floor first. That was what scared me. Killian never looked down.

“I didn’t know until recently,” he said quietly. “One of my intelligence guys flagged you. He didn’t say why. Just that you were tied to someone dangerous.”

I scoffed. “J.W.? You mean… Jason Walker?”

He nodded once.

Jason Walker. My ex. The one who vanished two years ago without a goodbye. The one who’d said he was just a crypto trader but paid in burner phones and always checked exits in restaurants. The one I thought I could forget.

“You thought I was working with him?”

“No,” Killian said. “I didn’t know what to think. That’s why I brought you close.”

“No, you brought me close because you wanted to control the threat.”

His jaw tightened. “I needed to know if you were part of it.”

“And now?”

He looked at me, fully, dark eyes fierce. “Now I don’t care who you were connected to. I care who you are now.”

“That’s convenient,” I snapped.

“Ava...”

“No,” I said, fire in my chest. “You think you can just rewrite my history because it doesn’t fit your narrative? I trusted you.”

“You were the one who said not to,” he bit out.

That shut me up.

For a moment, the only sound between us was the soft hum of the safe house’s climate control. Sterile. Too calm for the war going on inside me.

“I need air,” I whispered.

Killian moved to block the door. “It’s not safe outside.”

I stared him down. “Then open a damn window.”

The patio doors creaked open into a world of damp trees and velvet night. I stood barefoot on the slate tiles, wind brushing my skin like a question.

I should’ve run. Should’ve screamed.

Instead, I stood still.

Because deep down… I needed to know the truth.

Killian joined me after a few minutes, holding a folder.

“I had this run through our secure forensics system,” he said, placing it on the table between us.

I didn’t move.

He opened it anyway.

Inside were black-and-white surveillance stills of Jason. But not recent ones. They were marked “Deceased Assets, Project Draco.”

I flipped to the last page.

“Status: Confirmed dead. Two years ago. Body unrecovered. Believed incinerated in warehouse fire.**

My heart thudded.

“No,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Killian said, softly now. “I should’ve told you sooner. But I didn’t want to believe it either. The intelligence was buried deep, only surfaced because Celeste triggered an internal audit.”

“But… who wrote the note on that photo?”

He shook his head. “That’s what I’m still trying to figure out.”

I turned to him slowly. “Then let me help.”

He blinked.

“I’m done being a pawn in this. I want in, Killian. All the way in.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Yes, I do,” I said. “I’m asking you to stop lying to me. I’m asking to be your partner.”

He exhaled, stepped closer.

“I don’t want to drag you into this mess.”

“You already did,” I said. “Now let me be useful.”

He stared at me for a long beat.

And then nodded.

“One condition.”

“Name it.”

He moved even closer, the way he always did when things were about to shift.

“You don’t fall for me,” he said. “Because if you do… I won’t be able to let you go.”

My breath caught.

“Killian...”

He kissed me again. Slower this time. Unrushed. Like we had forever.

Like he meant it.

The next morning, everything changed.

Celeste was gone, no sign she’d ever been in the house. But her second flash drive remained.

Killian decrypted it while I watched.

Inside was a hidden channel.

A secure conversation between someone at Lennox Global… and an unknown buyer labeled: O.M.

The messages were short. Sharp. Loaded with threat.

O.M.: Merger delays unacceptable. Leverage Monroe harder.

LG Sender: She’s suspicious.

O.M.: If she becomes a problem, eliminate her.

I stared at the screen. “They were talking about me.”

Killian’s voice was gravel. “Someone inside the company sold your name to a hostile investor. That’s how they knew Jason knew you.”

“So someone at your own company put a hit on me.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re only just figuring this out?”

He didn’t flinch. “Because I never let myself look too closely.”

I stood.

“Then start now. Who’s O.M.?”

Killian looked at the message log again.

“I don’t know.”

But deep down, I could see something in his face.

Recognition.

Dread.

“You have a guess,” I said.

He didn’t deny it.

And that was when I knew…

O.M. wasn’t some distant villain.

They were close. Too close.