WithinThe spotlight's glare burned through the rain, pinning Lena Hart and her makeshift crew against the pier's edge, where the dark waters of the bay churned below. Claire's voice cut through the storm, her gun steady, flanked by two of Marcus Tate's men, their silhouettes menacing in the dockside haze. “Give me the key, Eleanor," she repeated, her tone cold but laced with an edge of urgency. “Vivian's done waiting."
Lena's fingers tightened around the small key from the safe house, its number 47 etched deep, a lifeline to her father's hidden vault. The map was tucked inside her jacket, alongside the pocket watch, its inscription—where the river meets the sea—guiding her to this moment. The ledger, still with Max, was proof of Vivian's corruption, but the vault promised something bigger
