CHAPTER TWELVE
1265 Words
Monroe Group — Rosette’s Office (Late Evening)
The door had long closed behind Ryan.
Yet his presence lingered.
Rosette remained standing where he left her, her gaze fixed on the door as if expecting it to open again.
It didn’t.
Silence settled into the room—thick, suffocating.
Slowly, she exhaled and walked back to her desk, lowering herself into the chair. Her fingers rested lightly on the documents before her, but her eyes weren’t reading.
They were distant.
Lost.
Ryan’s voice replayed in her head.
“It was my mother…”
“She was on the ground… covered in blood…”
“Sebastian was just standing there.”
Rosette closed her eyes briefly.
Something about it didn’t sit right.
Not the pain.
That part was real.
She had seen it in his eyes—the kind of grief that doesn’t fade with time.
But the story…
It felt incomplete.
She opened her eyes again, sharper this time.
Focused.
Thinking.
Rosette Monroe was not someone who accepted things at face value.
Not in business.
Not in war.
And certainly not in matters that felt… off.
Her fingers tapped lightly against the table.
Once.
Twice.
Then she reached for her phone.
The call connected almost immediately.
A calm voice answered from the other end.
“Miss Monroe.”
“I need information,” Rosette said without preamble.
A brief pause.
“What kind?”
“Everything you can find on the Vander incident… years ago. The night Mrs. Vander died.”
Silence lingered for half a second longer than usual.
Then—
“…That case was sealed.”
Rosette’s lips curved slightly.
“Then unseal it.”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“Miss Monroe… even we don’t have full access to that level of information.”
Rosette leaned back in her chair, her expression calm but her voice firm.
“Then don’t look for what’s available.”
A beat.
“Look for what’s missing.”
The line went quiet.
Then—
“…Understood.”
The call ended.
Rosette placed the phone down slowly.
Her gaze drifted toward the window.
The city lights flickered in the distance, glowing against the dark sky.
Everything looked normal.
Peaceful.
But she knew better.
There was always something hidden beneath the surface.
Always.
One Hour Later
The office lights dimmed slightly as time passed.
Rosette hadn’t moved much.
She had gone through reports, emails, and files—but her mind remained elsewhere.
Waiting.
Then—
Her phone buzzed.
She picked it up immediately.
“Talk.”
“Miss Monroe… I found something.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“Go on.”
“There is almost no official record of the incident.”
Rosette’s brows furrowed slightly.
“No record?”
“Minimal. Basic statement: ‘Accidental casualty during an unidentified attack.’ No suspects listed. No investigation details. No follow-up.”
That alone was strange.
Too clean.
Too empty.
“And the police report?” she asked.
“…Missing.”
Silence.
Rosette sat up slightly.
“Missing,” she repeated.
“Yes. It’s as if it was never filed.”
Her fingers stilled on the desk.
Now that—
That was not normal.
“What about surveillance footage?” she asked.
“Gone.”
“How?”
“Erased.”
Rosette’s eyes darkened slightly.
“Everywhere?”
“Every known camera in the area that night… wiped clean.”
A faint, almost invisible smile touched her lips.
Not amused.
Interested.
“Someone went through a lot of trouble,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
Rosette leaned back again, her mind racing.
No records.
No footage.
No investigation.
That wasn’t an accident.
That was control.
“Anything else?” she asked.
A pause.
Then—
“There was one thing.”
Rosette’s attention sharpened instantly.
“Speak.”
“A transaction.”
She didn’t interrupt.
“A very large amount of money was transferred into an untraceable account… two weeks before the incident.”
Rosette’s fingers curled slightly.
“Source?”
“Unknown.”
“Destination?”
“Also masked.”
Her gaze darkened further.
“Then how do you know it exists?”
“Because someone tried to erase it.”
That made her pause.
“When we traced irregular deletions in financial logs… this was the only entry that didn’t fully disappear.”
Rosette’s lips pressed together slightly.
“Amount?”
The voice hesitated.
“…Enough to save a collapsing corporation.”
Silence filled the room.
Her thoughts aligned instantly.
The timeline.
The crisis Ryan mentioned.
Sebastian’s actions.
Money appears.
Crisis disappears.
Then—
Two weeks later—
The incident.
Coincidence?
Rosette didn’t believe in those.
“Anything linking it to the Vanders?” she asked.
“No direct connection.”
A pause.
“But…”
Rosette’s voice dropped slightly.
“But what?”
“There’s a pattern in the encryption.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What kind of pattern?”
“It resembles something we’ve seen before.”
Rosette didn’t speak.
She didn’t need to.
The voice continued.
“…Underworld signatures.”
A slow, deliberate silence followed.
“And more specifically…” the voice added carefully, “it resembles transactions associated with Ravenna Blaze.”
Rosette’s gaze hardened.
Not surprised.
Just… confirmed.
“I see,” she said quietly.
The line went silent again.
Then—
“There’s one more thing, Miss Monroe.”
Her attention sharpened.
“Go on.”
“We found a fragment of a deleted file.”
Rosette leaned forward slightly.
“A fragment?”
“Yes. It’s corrupted… incomplete.”
“Read it.”
There was a slight rustle on the other end.
Then—
“It appears to be part of a message.”
Rosette’s fingers stilled.
“‘—If I can’t reach her… I’ll reach—’”
The voice stopped.
“That’s all?”
“Yes. The rest is gone.”
Rosette didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
But her mind filled in the blank.
If I can’t reach her… I’ll reach…
Her gaze slowly lifted.
Cold.
Sharp.
“Her,” she murmured.
Ravenna.
Someone couldn’t reach Ravenna—
So they reached—
“…Sebastian,” Rosette finished under her breath.
The room fell completely silent.
Everything clicked into place.
Not fully.
But enough.
Ryan’s story.
Sebastian’s “mistake.”
The missing records.
The erased evidence.
The money.
Ravenna.
And something else.
Something bigger.
Someone else.
Rosette leaned back slowly, her eyes thoughtful.
This wasn’t just a family tragedy.
This was a setup.
A carefully constructed chain of events.
But the question was—
Who was powerful enough to:
Manipulate underworld movements
Erase official records
Control information across systems
And why?
Her phone was still in her hand.
The call hadn’t ended.
“Miss Monroe?” the voice asked carefully.
Rosette blinked once, returning to the present.
“Keep digging.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And be careful.”
A pause.
“…Of course.”
The line went dead.
Rosette placed the phone down slowly.
Then she stood.
She walked toward the window again, her reflection staring back at her in the glass.
Calm.
Composed.
But her eyes—
They were alive.
“This isn’t over…” she murmured softly.
Ryan thought he knew the truth.
Sebastian thought he caused everything.
Mr. Vander buried it in anger.
But none of them saw the full picture.
And now—
Neither did she.
Not yet.
But she would.
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
Cold.
Determined.
“No one hides the truth from me,” Rosette whispered.
Outside, the city lights flickered.
Unaware.
And somewhere in the shadows—
Someone was watching.
Waiting.
- Writer
