THE FIRST CUT
1266 Words
The file wasn’t digital.
Damien handed it to her in a leather-bound folio, old-school and understated, with a single post-it inside: Study it alone. Midnight. Same place.
That was all.
No signature. No hint of warmth.
Just another test.
Ava waited until she was locked inside her apartment before peeling back the cover.
The first page was her father’s photo.
Taken from across the street, blurred like a ghost. He looked older. Thinner. The kind of man who walked with his eyes constantly scanning the corners.
The second page? A bank statement.
Millions.
Moved through ghost accounts with French aliases.
The third? An internal memo from something called Velvet Holdings Ltd., stamped confidential and signed by V. B.
Ava pressed her palm to the folder like it might still hold his heat.
Her father had always been cautious. Brilliant. Secretive. But this, this was not the work of a man who simply disappeared. This was a man hiding in plain sight, entrenched in a world Ava was only beginning to understand.
And Damien had known.
For how long?
Why her?
She didn’t know what scared her more: the answers or the way she’d started craving the questions.
By midnight, she was back in the underground chamber.
This time, she didn’t hesitate when the elevator doors opened.
Damien was already there, standing beside a projection table now flickering with maps and transaction logs.
“You read it,” he said without looking at her.
“I did.”
“And?”
“My father was part of this. Part of you.”
Damien turned slowly, his expression unreadable.
“He was recruited,” he said. “Twenty-two years ago.”
Ava blinked. “But I was”
“Three,” Damien finished. “He was one of the first to crack the pattern Velvet needed. A mathematician with moral elasticity. That combination doesn’t come around often.”
“So he sold secrets.”
“He coded them into data algorithms. Patterns that could predict market collapse, political shifts, assassination windows.”
Ava’s stomach turned. “He turned lives into math.”
“He turned power into probability.”
She stepped back, needing air, needing space.
“You make it sound noble.”
“It wasn’t,” Damien admitted. “But it was efficient.”
“Why now?” she demanded. “Why show me this now? Why not two years ago when he vanished? When I was begging international security agencies to care?”
“Because you weren’t ready then.”
“And I am now?”
“You wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in Velvet before. You were still grieving, still… honest.”
She laughed bitterly. “And now?”
“Now you’re dangerous.”
The way he said it like it was both a compliment and a warning, sent shivers down her spine.
Damien moved closer, the glow of the table casting golden shadows across his jaw.
“Velvet doesn’t forgive sentiment,” he said. “It devours it. That’s why your father ran.”
Ava froze.
“He ran?”
Damien’s eyes darkened.
“He broke ranks. Went off-grid. Tried to dismantle the very thing he helped build.”
“And what happened?”
“Velvet retaliated.”
She felt it then. The shift. The stakes.
Not just her father’s disappearance.
His punishment.
Her breath caught. “You’re saying Velvet killed him.”
“I’m saying Velvet doesn’t lose assets.”
Silence fell between them, heavy and raw.
Then Ava whispered, “So why recruit me?”
Damien looked at her like he wanted to say something more.
Then didn’t.
Instead, he said, “Because you’re smarter than he was. And colder.”
Ava hated how that almost felt like truth.
The next morning, Ava stood in front of the mirror in a pale blouse and blazer, corporate armor she no longer trusted.
She looked like the woman she’d always tried to be.
Polished. Calculated. Professional.
But beneath the silk and steel, something had cracked.
Velvet had become more than a job.
It was now personal.
At noon, she met with a Velvet operative named Elyse; Damien’s “liaison,” though the woman moved like she was trained to kill.
They sat in a quiet café near the Seine. Tourists laughed nearby. Nothing about it felt dangerous.
Except the data stick Elyse pushed across the table.
“Welcome to the sandbox,” Elyse said. “You’ll start with the Luxembourg files.”
“What am I looking for?” Ava asked.
“Deviations. Dead names. Leaks.”
“And if I find something?”
“You report to Damien. Only Damien.”
Ava slid the drive into her bag.
Then asked, “Did you know my father?”
Elyse didn’t blink.
“I knew of him. He got sloppy.”
Ava’s fingers curled around her cup. “What does that mean?”
“It means emotion compromised him. Regret. Love. Family.”
The message was clear.
Ava would need to choose.
Her heart.
Or her father’s legacy.
That night, she worked from a shadowed corner of the penthouse, decrypting the Luxembourg files.
Encrypted emails. Redacted memos. Anomalies in server routing paths.
Hours passed.
Until she saw it.
A message buried in metadata, masked beneath a travel itinerary.
“V., if you’re reading this, they’ve found me. Keep her safe. Don’t let her repeat my mistake. B.”
Ava’s throat tightened.
It was her father’s handwriting. Digitized. Hidden where only a Velvet insider could find it.
They’ve found me.
Keep her safe.
Her chest caved inward. Because he hadn’t just run.
He’d tried to shield her. From this.
From Damien.
From all of it.
And she’d walked straight into the lion’s den.
The knock came at midnight.
Not the usual car.
Not an invitation.
A warning.
Damien stood at her door.
His tie was gone. His face shadowed. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept.
“Something’s happened,” he said without preamble.
Ava stepped aside.
“What?”
Damien held up a tablet. “There’s chatter. Someone accessed forbidden logs tonight. From an unassigned IP. The system traced it to your building.”
Her stomach sank.
“I decrypted what Elyse gave me,” Ava said. “That’s all.”
“Did you open anything beyond Luxembourg?”
She hesitated.
Then lied.
“No.”
Damien’s eyes flicked over her face, but he didn’t call her on it.
He just said, “From now on, you only work from inside Velvet. No remote access. No unsecured connections.”
“You think I’m leaking?”
“I think someone wants it to look that way.”
Ava crossed her arms. “So I’m a suspect.”
“You’re not the only one.”
That landed heavy.
Which meant what she feared most: someone inside Velvet knew she was looking for her father.
And they were watching.
Waiting.
Damien moved closer. Too close.
“I can protect you,” he said quietly. “But only if you let me.”
Ava stared up at him. Torn. Furious. Scared.
But underneath it all… drawn.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why protect me when it’s easier to cut me loose?”
He reached out.
Tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that didn’t belong in this world.
“Because I don’t want to lose you the way we lost him.”
Ava’s breath hitched.
And in that moment, just for a second, she let herself believe him.
Even as her father’s message echoed in her mind:
Don’t let her repeat my mistake.
- Writer
