The old records room beneath the law firm Marcus worked at was dimly lit and filled with dust-coated files. Sebastian stood at the long oak table, flipping through folders with a tight jaw, while Helen sifted through a stack of digital records on a tablet.
It was the first time they'd worked together since everything shattered—and the silence between them said as much as the words they hadn't dared to say.
"You were right," Sebastian muttered, passing Helen a folder. "The wire transfers listed in the anonymous tip don't match any actual transaction codes. They were forged."
Helen took the file, her fingers brushing his. She didn't flinch—but she didn't hold on either.
"So that's one lie exposed," she said softly. "But that doesn't explain the photos… or the woman in them."
Sebastian looked at her then, his voice low. "I don't know who she is. But I swear to you, Helen—I've never been unfaithful."
Helen wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to.
But the rest of the puzzle still had too many jagged pieces that didn't fit.
---
Over the next week, they dug deeper—quietly, cautiously. Anita and Elizabeth continued their digging from behind the scenes, tracking phone records and emails. Marcus reached out to an IT contact to trace the origin of the anonymous messages.
They were close to something—but not the whole truth.
Some of the forged files had real components: correct dates, real signatures—but attached to the wrong context. Photos that looked genuine still hadn't been fully debunked. And a mysterious bank account linked to Sebastian's name remained unexplained.
Helen stared at the report late one evening, frustration boiling over. "There's still something off. These lies aren't completely made up. They're based on fragments of truth twisted just enough."
Sebastian leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "That's what makes them dangerous. They look real."
She turned to face him, eyes shadowed with doubt. "But why haven't you told me about this account? The one under 'S.M. Holdings'?"
Sebastian stiffened. "Because I didn't know it existed."
Helen's expression flickered.
"You expect me to believe that? After everything?"
His voice rose slightly, tired and raw. "Yes, because I'm telling you the truth!"
A long silence fell between them. And in it—a growing crack neither of them could fix yet.
---
Later that night…
Helen lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Her heart ached with longing, confusion, fear. How could love feel so real and yet be so tangled in shadows?
Her phone buzzed.
Anita: Got something. But you're not going to like it.
Attached was a name.A woman from Sebastian's past.Not a stranger. Not a random face.An ex.Someone with a motive. Someone Jennifer had been in contact with.Helen's throat tightened. Was this another thread to pull—or another lie dressed in truth?
---
Across town…
Sebastian stared out his apartment window, thinking about Helen. About the trust he could feel slipping from her fingertips, even as she tried to hold on.
They were both caught in a storm neither had created—but they were bleeding from the fallout.He whispered her name into the night.Not knowing if she still believed in him.Not knowing if she ever truly would again.
The café was quiet, tucked into the edge of the city where no one looked too closely, and everyone had something to hide. Helen sat at the corner table, hands wrapped around a cup of untouched tea, eyes fixed on the door.
It opened.
And she walked in.
Allegra Monroe.
The woman in the photographs. The whispered past Sebastian had never spoken of. Her beauty was sharp, calculated—eyes that flickered with recognition, but no warmth.
"Helen," Allegra said smoothly as she sat down, crossing her legs. "I figured this day would come."
"I want the truth," Helen said, voice calm but laced with steel. "Who sent you those photos? Why now?"
Allegra tilted her head, almost amused. "Jennifer reached out months ago. Said she wanted to 'expose Sebastian for what he really is.' She paid me to pretend—said it was a performance with a purpose."
Helen's stomach turned.
"So none of it was real?"
"Not between me and Sebastian," Allegra said. "But the documents? The wire transfers? I didn't fake those. I just delivered what they gave me."
Helen leaned forward. "You think Jennifer and Steven are doing this just to ruin him?"
Allegra's gaze darkened. "They don't want to ruin him, Helen. They want to erase him. And you… You're the leverage."
---
Later That Week
It was like watching a house of cards collapse—except Helen was the one knocking it down.
In a bold move, she contacted a former federal prosecutor through Marcus and handed over everything: evidence of Steven's offshore accounts, proof that Jennifer funneled money through shell donors to influence legal proceedings.
The trial was short, but brutal.
Helen took the stand with nerves of steel. Jennifer sat across the courtroom, her smile cracking as Helen read from the list of falsified email headers, account numbers, and even internal texts leaked by a whistleblower Steven once betrayed.
The final blow?
A security tape showing Jennifer and Steven exchanging an envelope—the very one Helen had received anonymously.
By the end of the week, their reputations were shredded.
But victory didn't feel like triumph.
Not when Sebastian stood at the edge of the courtroom, eyes downcast, avoiding hers.
That Night
Helen confronted him at his apartment. No pretenses. No soft edges.
"You were trying to protect me," she said. "But from what?"
Sebastian looked at her, tired and raw. "From my family. From the truth. My father wasn't just laundering money—he was blackmailing people. Politicians. Business rivals. He wanted me to continue it."
"You didn't," Helen said.
"I did," he whispered. "For one year. After he died. I thought I could clean it from the inside, fix what he ruined. But I got pulled in too deep… until I met you."
Helen's heart pounded.
"I left it all behind for you, Helen. I buried every secret, scrubbed every name. But it doesn't matter anymore, does it? You'll never look at me the same."
"I'm carrying your child," she said quietly.
Sebastian froze.
"I was going to tell you when it was over. When I knew the danger had passed."
But danger doesn't wait.
Three Days Later
Helen disappeared.
Her apartment was trashed, her phone left behind. No sign of forced entry—but surveillance footage showed Steven at the building hours before she vanished.
Jennifer's fingerprints were found on Helen's front door.
The authorities moved quickly.
But Jennifer and Steven moved faster.
By the time Sebastian got the message—an
anonymous text that read "You lost her. Again."—he was already being arrested.
Charged with kidnapping.
And worse—intent to harm the mother of his child.