The night didn't end when the sirens faded.
It just changed shape — from fire to silence.
Amira drove until the mansion disappeared in the rear mirror, its outline swallowed by fog. Her fingers clenched around the small silver drive like it was a pulse keeping her alive. The rain had stopped, but everything inside her was still flooding.
She didn't turn on the radio.
Didn't check her phone.
Didn't even cry.
Because crying meant accepting that what just happened — the fire, the vineyard, the blood — was real.
And she wasn't ready for that.
⸻
By the time she reached the city, dawn had smeared the horizon with pale gold. She parked in front of a quiet café, one of those that opened too early for anyone sane. Her reflection in the window looked like a stranger — smoky eyeliner smeared, hair tangled, eyes empty.
She ordered black coffee, no sugar.
When the waitress placed it down, Amira's hand trembled.
The drive sat on the table, small, harmless, but heavy with questions.
She stared at it for a long time.
Leonardo's face kept flashing in her head — the way he looked when he pulled the trigger, the panic after, the way he whispered "You have to believe me."
But believe what?
That he killed a man to protect her?
Or that everything she thought she knew about him was just another lie?
She closed her eyes. "God… what am I supposed to do?"
"Plug it in," a voice inside her whispered — the dangerous kind of whisper that sounded like courage but felt like fear.
So she did.
⸻
The laptop screen flickered to life. A single folder appeared:
PROJECT ELISE – FINAL
Her pulse quickened. She clicked.
Inside were several files: video clips, scanned letters, and one audio recording. Her throat went dry.
She opened the first document — a report signed by Detective Daniel Hale.
"Subject: Elise Rossi.
Findings suggest inconsistencies in autopsy results. Cause of death may not be accidental. Recommendation: reopen case under confidential directive."
Amira's chest tightened.
The next file — a photo — Elise at the vineyard, paint on her hands, smiling at someone off-camera. The same photo that used to sit on Leonardo's desk. But in this one, the reflection on the window behind her showed someone else.
A man.
Tall.
Standing too close.
She zoomed in.
Her breath caught.
It was Leonardo.
⸻
The audio file was labeled "CONFESSION_04".
Her hands shook as she hit play.
"—I didn't mean for it to happen," Leonardo's voice said, raw and unsteady. "She wouldn't stop asking questions. She wanted to expose the deal with Hale — the off-record shipments, the money trail. I told her it wasn't safe. I told her—"
Static swallowed the rest.
Amira's entire body went cold.
She paused the recording, but her heart kept racing like it wanted to escape her chest.
She replayed the words again, each syllable cutting deeper.
"I didn't mean for it to happen…"
She stared at the screen, her pulse thudding in her ears.
Was this real?
Was this before Elise died?
Or was it something Daniel edited to break them apart?
She wanted to believe it was fake. She needed to.
But Leonardo's voice… it was unmistakable.
⸻
The café had started to fill up.
People laughed. Coffee machines hissed.
Life went on, cruelly normal.
Amira shut the laptop and sat still, numb. For a moment, she considered driving straight to the police. Handing over everything. Telling them the truth — or at least her version of it.
But then she remembered Daniel's words before he died:
"He'll come for you next… just like he came for her."
Her stomach turned.
What if Leonardo wasn't running from her?
What if he was hunting her now?
She swallowed hard, shoved the drive into her coat pocket, and left.
⸻
Back at what was left of the Rossi mansion, the police had cordoned off the property. Reporters hovered near the gates like vultures.
She kept her head down as she slipped inside.
Every step echoed in the hollow hallways. The smell of burnt wood lingered, heavy and sour. Her heels crunched over broken glass and ash.
She climbed to Leonardo's private study, where the hidden room was. The door creaked open — untouched, as if waiting for her return.
On the desk, a single envelope lay where the black folder used to be.
Her name was written on it.
Amira.
She tore it open with trembling fingers.
"If you're reading this, it means you've found the drive.
Whatever Daniel told you, it's not the full truth. Elise's death wasn't an accident, but it wasn't murder either. There's something bigger underneath all this — something I've tried to bury to protect you.
Trust me one last time. Meet me where it began.
—L."
Where it began.
The vineyard?
Or… Elise's old art studio downtown?
She grabbed her keys.
⸻
The studio sat on the edge of the city, hidden between warehouses and abandoned buildings. When Amira pushed the door open, the smell of turpentine and dust filled her lungs. Elise's paintings still hung on the walls — storms, oceans, faceless women with sad eyes.
And in the center of the room stood Leonardo.
Alive.
Disheveled.
Haunted.
He turned when he heard her.
"You came," he said softly.
"I shouldn't have," she replied, voice cracking.
He nodded, as if he understood. "You saw the files."
"I heard your voice." Her eyes burned. "You said you didn't mean for it to happen. What does that mean, Leonardo?"
He looked away. "It's not what you think."
"Then tell me what it is," she snapped. "Because right now, I don't know if I'm talking to my husband or my enemy."
He flinched at the word enemy.
"Elise found out something she shouldn't have," he said finally. "Daniel and I were part of a deal — a merger that wasn't clean. She wanted to expose it. I tried to stop her because it would've destroyed everything — the company, our lives. She thought I was protecting her. But I was protecting the name. The legacy. My father's empire."
He exhaled shakily.
"That night… she confronted Daniel. They fought near the cliff. I arrived too late. I saw her fall."
Amira's voice was barely a whisper. "So it was an accident?"
"I don't know anymore," he admitted. "But Daniel blamed me. Said I let her die. He blackmailed me with that recording — made me sign things, cover things up. The drive you found? He created that to destroy me."
Amira's throat tightened. "And you killed him."
Leonardo's eyes darkened. "He had a gun. He wasn't going to stop."
The silence between them stretched, heavy with every word they didn't say.
"You should've told me," she whispered. "You should've trusted me."
"I wanted to," he said, voice breaking. "But you looked at me the way Elise used to — like I was worth saving. I didn't want to ruin that."
Amira's eyes filled with tears. "You already have."
⸻
He stepped closer, slow, deliberate. "Amira, please. Everything I did — the lies, the secrets — it was to keep you safe."
"Safe from what?" she demanded.
He hesitated. "From the people behind Daniel. He wasn't working alone."
Her heart skipped. "Who?"
Before he could answer, a gunshot shattered the window.
Amira screamed, ducking. Leonardo grabbed her, pulling her behind an overturned table.
"Get down!" he hissed.
Glass rained from the ceiling.
Another shot.
Then silence.
When they looked up, a single bullet hole smoked in the far wall.
Outside, tires screeched. A car sped away.
Leonardo stood, breathing hard, peering through the shattered window. "They found us."
"Who, Leonardo?" Amira shouted. "Who is they?"
He turned back, eyes fierce. "The ones Elise tried to expose. The board."
Her stomach dropped. "You mean your own company?"
He nodded once. "They've been laundering money for years. Elise knew. Daniel knew. Now they think you do too."
Amira's chest tightened with dread. "Then what happens now?"
Leonardo's gaze softened. "Now we disappear."
⸻
Hours later, they were on the road again — a different car, tinted windows, fake plates. The city lights vanished behind them.
Amira sat in silence, staring out the window. The world outside looked unreal — like a film she didn't remember auditioning for.
Leonardo drove without speaking, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
Finally, she broke the silence. "You think running will fix this?"
"I think staying will get you killed."
She turned toward him. "And what about you?"
He gave a faint, bitter smile. "I stopped believing I could be saved a long time ago."
Her chest ached. She wanted to hate him — God, she did — but a part of her still saw the man who made her laugh, who touched her like she was something fragile. And that part was tearing her apart.
She whispered, "I don't know if I can forgive you."
He looked at her, eyes full of exhaustion and something close to love. "I don't need forgiveness, Amira. I just need you alive."
⸻
They stopped by a secluded lake as dawn crept up again.
The air smelled of pine and cold water. Birds began to sing like nothing had burned.
Amira stepped out, hugging herself against the chill. Leonardo came up beside her, holding the silver drive.
"This thing," he said quietly, "is the key. It holds proof — names, accounts, everything Elise died for. If we release it, the company burns. If we hide it, the truth dies again."
She looked at the drive in his hand, that small, merciless truth that had already taken so much from them.
"What do you want to do?" she asked.
He met her gaze. "I want you to decide."
Her heart twisted. "Why me?"
"Because I've already destroyed enough."
She stared at the reflection of the sunrise on the lake — gold bleeding into blue — and thought of Elise, of Daniel, of the mansion still standing in ruins.
Then she took the drive from his hand.
"If we burn, we burn together," she said softly.
Leonardo's eyes shone, and for the first time, he didn't look like a man haunted by ghosts — he looked like someone finally ready to face them.
⸻
Hours later, in a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city, Amira connected to the laptop again. The drive blinked in her hand like a heartbeat. She uploaded the contents to every major news server she could find.
When it was done, she exhaled slowly.
No turning back now.
She looked at Leonardo, asleep on the couch, exhaustion finally winning. His face looked peaceful — too peaceful for the storm he'd unleashed.
She whispered, "For Elise. For us."
And hit send.