The penthouse felt different after Maya and Nate left—quieter, more intimate, like the eye of a storm where we could finally breathe. I was sprawled across the leather couch, my laptop finally closed after hours of digging through Victor Langston's digital footprints, when Ryder collapsed beside me with a dramatic sigh.

"My brain hurts," he announced, rubbing his temples. "I never knew corporate espionage could be so... technical."

"Welcome to my world," I said, stretching my arms above my ...