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Cameron Jenkins stared at the framed photograph on the mahogany desk, her pulse hammering against her ribs. The woman in the picture—Sofia—was an absolute mirror image of her. It wasn’t a passing resemblance; it was a biological duplicate. The same slope of the nose, the identical arch of the brow, and the faint, crescent-shaped scar tucked beneath the left jawline. / Chapter 7 / 8

Chapter 7 - The Final Stand at the Docks

"They're inside," Matteo muttered, his jaw clenching as he snapped the tablet shut and yanked his sidearm back up, checking the chamber with cold, professional efficiency.

"How?" Cameron breathed, adrenaline spiking through her veins, pushing away all fear and replacing it with pure, raw survival instinct. "This tunnel was sealed!"

"A security bypass of this magnitude means someone on my own executive board sold us out," Matteo said bitterly. "They knew every escape route I own."

He grabbed Cameron firmly by the shoulder, guiding her behind a thick concrete support pillar near a rusted iron ladder that led upward toward an old street-level storm grate. Faint beams of moonlight filtered through the heavy iron bars above—they were close to the East River docks.

"Climb up that ladder," Matteo instructed, handing her the encrypted tablet. "Get Leo out into the open street, flag down any car, and don't stop running until you reach the federal plaza downtown."

"And you?" Cameron asked, her eyes searching his face. The cold, arrogant billionaire who had looked down his nose at her hours ago was gone; in his place stood a man ready to burn his entire empire to the ground to protect the two people standing behind him.

"I'm going to make sure they don't follow," Matteo said softly, a dark, dangerous smile touching the corner of his mouth. He reached out, his warm fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from Cameron's cheek—the exact same gesture he used to make with the woman in the photograph. "Find out who you really are, Cameron. Don't let them steal your name."

Before she could protest, Matteo spun around and sprinted back down the dark corridor toward the echoing sound of approaching footsteps, shouting a challenge that drew immediate, deafening gunfire.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

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The rain tapped a frantic rhythm against the glass of Marissa’s cramped, dimly lit kitchen, but the storm outside was nothing compared to the tempest raging inside Adrian Whitmore’s mind. Standing just beyond the rotting wooden doorframe of her apartment, hidden by the heavy shadows of the crumbling stairwell, the millionaire tried to steady his breathing. His expensive wool coat was soaked through, but he didn’t care. His eyes were entirely fixed on the scene unfolding a few feet away.

The rain tapped a frantic rhythm against the glass of Marissa’s cramped,...

My hand froze inches from the cold steel of the Sig Sauer P226. Beneath the amber glow of the bedside lamp, the source of the warmth against my side wasn't an assassin, an operative from a rival syndicate, or a traitorous lieutenant.

My hand froze inches from the cold steel of the Sig Sauer P226. Beneath...

The silence in the master bedroom stretched so tight I could hear the slow, heavy drip of my own pulse in my ears. Dominic Rossi’s dark eyes locked onto mine, burning with a feverish intensity that should have sent me running back down the hallway and out into the rain

The silence in the master bedroom stretched so tight I could hear the sl...

Tears blurred Cameron's vision, but she didn't hesitate. With Leo wrapped tightly against her chest, she scrambled up the rusted iron ladder, pushed open the heavy street-level iron grate with a surge of desperate strength, and spilled out into the cool, rain-washed air of the Manhattan waterfront.

Sirens wailed in the distance. The city stretched out before her, vast and uncaring, but for the first time in her life, Cameron Jenkins wasn't running away from her past—she was charging straight toward the truth.

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