Chapter 13-When the enemy moves first
1809 Words
The day should have ended hours ago.
By 7 p.m., most departments had emptied out. The lights dimmed into evening mode, and the office felt like a hushed beast finally resting after a brutal hunt. But the Phoenix team Amara, Samuel, Tasha, three analysts, and two managers were still trapped inside the conference room waiting on the final IT report.
Adrian was gone.
Or so everyone thought.
Amara sat at the far end of the table, staring at the glowing spreadsheet in front of her. She wasn’t really seeing the numbers. Her mind was scattered, running loops around the last conversation she had with him.
Don’t retreat from me, Amara.
I’m not your enemy.
Words she didn’t ask for.
Words she didn’t want.
Words that weren’t supposed to mean anything but somehow found their way into her bloodstream anyway.
She hated it.
She hated how one sentence from him could shake the foundation she was desperately trying to rebuild.
While she pretended to read, Samuel leaned back in his chair and whispered, “The longer IT takes, the worse the result.”
Tasha nudged him sharply. “Can you not put curses on our head?”
“I’m not cursing anything,” Samuel muttered. “I’m just acknowledging reality.”
Amara’s voice came out quiet. “Do they know who leaked it yet?”
“Not yet,” Samuel said. Then he added, “But whoever did it didn’t want to expose the whole project. They only leaked the weakest slide.”
“That’s the problem,” Tasha said. “It wasn’t even harmful. It was just… incomplete.”
“And confusing,” Samuel said. “Enough to make the board question management competence.”
Amara frowned. “So it wasn’t meant to damage the project. Just to embarrass someone.”
“Exactly,” Samuel confirmed. “And guess which ‘someone’ wrote that slide.”
Her chest tightened.
She had written it.
It wasn’t her final draft but it was hers.
Before she could speak, Tasha cut in, “Please let’s not start assuming things. If they wanted to embarrass her, they would have leaked the whole project, not one baby slide.”
“That’s what makes this dangerous,” Samuel whispered. “Whoever did this wanted two things confusion and suspicion.”
“And chaos,” Tasha added.
“And to shift attention,” Samuel said.
“And to make Mr. Alpha scream,” Tasha concluded.
They both turned to Amara.
She touched her pen absently, fingers trembling slightly.
She remembered something her mother used to say:
When evil comes, it doesn’t shout. It whispers.
Before she could speak, the door burst open.
Everyone jumped.
It wasn’t IT.
It was the Head of Security.
Behind him, to everyone’s shock
Adrian walked in.
Tasha slapped Samuel under the table. “I thought you said he left!”
Samuel choked. “He did. He said goodnight! I saw him leave!”
“He came back,” Amara said quietly.
She didn’t know how she knew.
But she knew.
Adrian stood in the doorway, tall and sharply composed, his expression giving away nothing but the air changed instantly. Chairs shifted. Papers were straightened. People tried to look more serious than they already were.
Security handed Adrian a tablet.
“We have the source,” he said.
Silence filled the room like smoke.
Amara’s heart pounded so hard she felt it in her teeth.
Adrian scanned the tablet for a few seconds. His jaw tightened.
Then he lifted his head.
“This leak,” he said calmly, “was not external. It was posted by someone inside Phoenix.”
Glances flew around the room.
Tasha whispered, “Ha. Destiny wants to use us to act film.”
Adrian continued, “The IP log shows it came from a device on this floor.”
A thin chill crawled across the room.
Someone swallowed loudly.
Adrian’s eyes moved across each face slowly methodically like he was peeling back their layers without touching them.
Then he said something that made Amara’s blood freeze.
“It came from an account created with restricted tagging.”
Samuel’s eyes widened. “Restricted tagging… who”
“Meaning,” Adrian said, “the account didn’t exist before this week.”
Amara’s pulse stilled.
This week.
This life’s new chapter.
New access.
New vulnerability.
Her head began to spin.
Someone had waited for her to return.
Someone had always been waiting.
The Security Head stepped forward. “Sir, the account is under the name ‘A. Adeyemi.’ We are tracking activity”
The world went silent.
Completely silent.
Every head snapped toward her.
Her breath caught painfully in her throat.
Her palms turned cold.
Tasha stood so fast her chair fell back. “WHAT?? No! That’s impossible! She didn’t do anything!”
Samuel stared at her in shock. “Amara?”
Amara’s voice cracked out of her chest. “I didn’t create that account.”
Her voice was thin, trembling, but loud in the sudden quiet.
“I didn’t create it,” she repeated. “I swear. I didn’t.”
A manager whispered, “But the name…”
“It’s a setup,” Tasha snapped. “Use your brain, are you people not normal?”
Samuel took two steps toward Amara protectively. “She didn’t do it. I was with her for most of the work. She never logged into any new account.”
The room felt like it was spinning.
Her knees went weak.
Her lungs struggled for air.
And Adrian
He didn’t look surprised.
He didn’t look angry.
He looked something else.
Focused.
Sharp.
Dangerously calm.
He stepped closer.
Everyone moved aside unconsciously.
He stopped in front of her.
“Amara,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”
Her head snapped up on instinct.
His eyes held hers.
Steady. Unblinking. Searching deeper than she wanted him to.
“Did you leak the slide?”
“No,” she whispered. “I would never do that.”
His gaze didn’t waver for a second.
He believed her.
She didn’t know how she knew it, but she felt it.
He broke the silence.
“This is not her.”
Everyone stared.
Adrian’s voice was dangerously sure.
“Someone created this account to frame her.”
The room buzzed with a mix of fear and confusion.
Tasha let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, Jesus.”
Samuel sagged slightly, like a man forgiven.
But Amara
Amara felt a tiny c***k in her chest.
Because this wasn’t normal.
He shouldn’t defend her.
He shouldn’t speak for her.
He shouldn’t know her like that.
Not in this life.
Not when he didn’t even know what he had done in the last.
“Find who created that account,” Adrian said to Security. “And find out whose device was used.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And,” Adrian added, “no one leaves this building until the origin is confirmed.”
Someone groaned quietly. Tasha cursed under her breath.
Adrian turned back to Amara.
“Come with me.”
It wasn’t a request.
He didn’t wait for her response.
He simply walked out.
And like a woman caught in the undertow of fate, Amara followed heart pounding with a fear she didn’t want to name.
He didn’t speak again until they reached his office.
Once inside, he closed the door behind them
softly,
slowly,
intentionally.
Her blood felt like it was vibrating under her skin.
He rounded the desk, standing in front of it, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her.
“Someone is targeting you.”
Her throat tightened. “This has happened to me before…”
She stopped.
She almost said in another life.
She almost said you didn’t believe me then.
She almost said the sabotage began like this before too.
But she held the words back.
Adrian studied her face. “You recognized the pattern.”
It wasn’t a question.
It was a statement.
She swallowed.
“I don’t know who it is,” she whispered. “But it’s not me, sir. I didn’t do this.”
He exhaled slowly, the sound heavy with controlled anger not at her, but at the situation.
“I know,” he said.
Her breath hitched.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“And whoever did this…”
his jaw clenched,
“…will regret choosing you as their target.”
Her heart slammed hard against her ribs.
Because that wasn’t an office statement.
That wasn’t a CEO protecting staff.
That wasn’t professional.
That was personal.
Too personal.
She whispered, “Why are you defending me this much?”
For a moment, a shadow flickered across his expression confusion, recognition, something buried.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I am.”
Her pulse skipped.
He stepped even closer still not touching her, but close enough that she felt his breath.
“Amara,” he said quietly. “If someone in this building thinks you’re an easy target…”
His eyes darkened.
“…they don’t know who you are.”
She stepped back on instinct, needing air.
He didn’t follow.
He let her.
But his eyes never left hers.
“Go home for tonight,” he said. “I’ll send you the final report when we have it.”
She shook her head. “I can stay. I want to know”
“No,” he said firmly. “This isn’t the day for you to push yourself.”
Her heart twisted.
She hated how much that sounded like care.
She hated how much she wanted to reject that care.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You’re shaken.”
“I’m not scared.”
“I didn’t say you were scared.”
Their eyes locked.
The silence between them grew thick. Heavy. Electric.
She broke the contact first.
“I’ll wait with Tasha,” she whispered. “I’m not going home alone.”
His jaw tightened slightly as if the idea of her being alone bothered him more than it should.
“Alright,” he said.
He didn’t open the door.
He didn’t dismiss her.
He just watched her leave with a gaze that followed her steps.
She stepped into the hallway, breathing shakily.
Her mind was spinning.
Someone was targeting her again.
Someone wanted her weakened.
Someone wanted her blamed.
And Adrian
He was not letting her fall.
Not this time.
But as she walked away, one truth chilled her:
If destiny was repeating itself,
then the enemy who ruined her before
had already made their first move.
And this time…
they weren’t hiding in the shadows.
They were here.
Watching.
Starting early.
Waiting for the moment Amara least expected.
She whispered to herself,
“This life will not end like the last.”
But deep inside, she knew
The real war had just begun.
- Writer
