The sea was calm that morning.
Almost too calm.
Amira stood barefoot on the sand, the hem of her white dress damp from the tide. The horizon was washed in soft gold, waves lapping like they carried secrets. Behind her, the small coastal cottage they'd rented leaned against the cliff, hidden by fog and wildflowers.
It had been three months since the world buried them.
Three months since the Rossi empire fell, since the last headline declared "Leonardo Rossi and wife presumed dead."
But the dead were not meant to dream.
And every night, Amira still did — of fire, of smoke, of the vineyard where everything ended.
She closed her eyes and whispered, "We should've left sooner."
A voice behind her answered softly, "Would it have changed anything?"
Leonardo.
He stepped beside her, barefoot too, hair longer now, his jaw shadowed. He no longer looked like a man who once signed billion-dollar contracts — just a man learning to breathe again.
He handed her a cup of coffee, his hand brushing hers. "We're ghosts, Amira. The world forgot us. Maybe that's a good thing."
She took the cup but didn't drink. "I don't know if I like being forgotten."
He smiled faintly. "Then maybe we start again. New names. New lives."
"New lies?"
The question hung between them.
Leonardo sighed. "You still don't trust me."
"I want to," she said quietly. "But trust is like glass, Leo. Once it cracks, even light breaks differently through it."
He didn't answer. Instead, he kissed her forehead gently — a habit he hadn't lost.
Then he walked back toward the house, leaving her alone with the sea and her ghosts.
⸻
By noon, the small town had come alive — fishermen shouting by the pier, children running barefoot, the scent of salt and grilled bread drifting through the air.
Amira went to the market, blending into the rhythm. No one here knew who she was — just another woman with a soft accent and tired eyes. She bought vegetables, bread, a newspaper she didn't plan to read.
Until she saw it.
A small column tucked on page seven:
"UNCONFIRMED SIGHTINGS OF FORMER CEO LEONARDO ROSSI IN SICILY."
Her hand trembled.
The ink seemed to pulse under the sunlight.
When she returned home, Leonardo was fixing the shutters. He looked up and saw her expression. "What is it?"
She handed him the paper.
He read it once, twice, then swore under his breath. "Who saw us?"
"I don't know. But someone's looking."
He tore the paper in half. "We'll leave tonight."
"Run again?" she said bitterly. "That's all we ever do."
His voice sharpened. "It's all we can do."
"No, Leonardo. Maybe it's all you can do."
He froze, then dropped the torn paper. "What are you saying?"
"I'm tired of hiding," Amira said. "Elise died for the truth. I nearly did. And you still want to bury it all again?"
"Because if they find us, they'll kill you," he snapped.
"Then let them try."
Silence.
Only the sea between them, restless and alive.
He turned away. "Pack what you need."
But Amira didn't move.
⸻
That night, the storm returned.
Rain lashed against the windows, thunder rumbling deep like the earth itself was angry. Leonardo checked the locks twice, every sound outside making his pulse jump.
He glanced toward Amira. She sat by the table, tracing her finger along the edge of the silver drive — the real one.
"I thought you destroyed that," he said.
"I thought you wanted to forget."
She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting lightning. "I lied."
Before he could respond, there was a knock.
Three slow taps.
They both froze.
"Stay here," Leonardo whispered. He reached for the drawer — the one where he kept the small gun wrapped in cloth.
The knocks came again.
He opened the door halfway. "Who's there?"
A man stood in the rain — soaked, hooded, face half in shadow. But his voice, calm and certain, was unmistakable.
"Hello, Leonardo."
Leonardo's blood ran cold. "No… you're supposed to be dead."
The man smiled faintly. "So are you."
Amira's heart slammed against her ribs. "Daniel?"
He pushed back his hood, revealing the scar across his jaw — faint but real.
Daniel Hale.
Alive.
"You shot me," he said, stepping inside. "But I suppose miracles still happen."
Leonardo aimed the gun. "Don't take another step."
Daniel raised his hands. "Relax. I'm not here to kill you. If I wanted that, you'd already be dead."
Amira stood. "Then what do you want?"
He looked at her — not with anger, but something far colder. "You leaked the files. You think it's over? The truth you released was only half the story."
Leonardo's jaw tightened. "Don't."
Daniel ignored him. "Elise wasn't the only one they silenced, Amira. The people behind Rossi International — they're still out there. And they know you're alive."
"Why should we believe you?" she demanded.
Daniel smiled. "Because I'm the one who sent the newspaper tip. You're welcome."
Leonardo stepped closer, fury simmering. "Why?"
"Because we're running out of time."
He tossed a small flash drive onto the table. "That contains the rest — every name, every account, every death they covered. Elise's death was just the beginning."
Amira stared at the drive. "And what do you expect me to do?"
"Finish what you started," Daniel said. "Or watch the next headline read: 'Coastal Couple Found Dead in Mysterious Explosion.'"
Lightning flashed again, illuminating the tension between them.
Leonardo lowered the gun slightly. "Why help us?"
Daniel's voice softened, almost regretful. "Because Elise was my sister."
The words hit like thunder.
Amira's breath caught. "Your sister?"
He nodded. "Different fathers. Same mother. She never told you because she didn't want you caught in the same web. But when she died, I promised her one thing — I'd destroy the people who made her a ghost."
Leonardo's voice was tight. "And you think using Amira again will fix that?"
"I think she's the only one who can finish it," Daniel said. "You're too far gone, Leo. The world already decided what you are."
"Then let them."
"No," Amira said suddenly. "He's right."
Both men turned toward her.
"If the people behind this are still alive, we can't hide. Not anymore. I leaked the first truth — I'll leak the rest."
Leonardo's hand clenched. "You'll die."
"Maybe," she said, her voice steady. "But at least this time, it'll mean something."
⸻
By dawn, Daniel was gone.
But the new drive wasn't.
Amira sat at the table, typing. The screen glowed softly, her fingers trembling over the keys. Leonardo stood behind her, silent.
"Once you hit send, there's no undo," he said quietly.
She smiled faintly. "That's the point."
She pressed enter.
The upload bar began to move.
10%… 40%… 73%…
Then — blackout.
The power cut. The lights died. The screen went dark.
Amira gasped. "No—"
Outside, a low hum. Tires. Voices. Flashlights.
Leonardo pulled her to the window. Cars — black, unmarked — surrounded the house.
"They found us," he whispered.
Amira grabbed the drive, slipping it into her jacket. "We have to move."
They ran toward the back exit — the same one they'd used before. But as they reached the door, it burst open.
Armed men filled the doorway.
"Drop it!" one shouted.
Leonardo stepped forward, shielding her. "Take me, not her."
Amira shouted, "No—"
A shot fired.
Leonardo fell.
The sound tore through her like lightning.
She dropped beside him, hands shaking. "No, no, no—"
His eyes fluttered open, a faint smile ghosting his lips. "You finish it, Amira. Promise me."
Tears blurred her vision. "Don't you dare—"
"Promise me."
She nodded, sobbing. "I promise."
He touched her cheek once, his fingers cold. "Then it was worth it."
The next shot silenced him forever.
⸻
They took her — hands bound, vision blurred, sirens screaming. The world dissolved into noise and red lights.
When she woke, she was in a dark room. No windows. One door. Her wrists ached.
Across from her sat a woman in a white suit — calm, beautiful, terrifying.
"Mrs. Rossi," the woman said with a smile. "You've been very busy."
Amira glared. "Who are you?"
The woman leaned forward. "Let's just say… I'm the one your husband tried to expose."
Amira's pulse quickened. "You killed Elise."
"No," the woman said softly. "I buried the truth. Elise was the one who tried to dig it up. And now you've done the same."
She stood, walking toward the door. "You could've lived a quiet life. Instead, you chose to burn the world."
Amira's voice trembled but didn't break. "Then light the match. But know this — the fire's already spreading."
The woman paused. "What do you mean?"
Amira smiled faintly. "Before your men cut the power, I sent a backup. Everything's online by now."
The woman's expression cracked.
Amira leaned forward. "You can kill me. But the truth already lived."
⸻
Outside, sirens wailed again. The world was waking up to another storm.
And for once, Amira didn't run.
She closed her eyes, whispering to the memory of Leonardo —
We did it.
The truth lived.