Lonely Castle

OneYear Prior - Pt1

Alec groaned dramatically from the sofa. "I swear, if I have to watch another executive leave that building, I'm going to report myself for psychological torture."

No one acknowledged him.

Melodie sat cross-legged in an office chair surrounded by six monitors, each displaying a different live feed of the James Group headquarters. Security cameras, traffic cameras, satellite imagery, employee social media, building access logs—hundreds of fragments of information, all slowly assembling into a picture only she seemed capable of seeing.

Yuri stood by the window, binoculars resting against his chest. Unlike Alec, he hadn't complained once in the last nine days.

Bran occupied the dining table, though nobody had eaten there in months. Three laptops, two dismantled hard drives, and a soldering station had long since claimed the space. He quietly replaced a faulty memory module before reaching for his now-cold coffee.

"This is exciting." Alec sighed loudly. "I said…"

Silence.

"We heard you," Bran replied without looking up.

"I don't think you appreciated the sarcasm."

Without looking up, Bran answered. "We did. It just wasn't very good."

Alec clutched a hand to his chest.

"You know, Yuri appreciates my humour."

"I tolerate it," Yuri corrected.

Melodie smiled faintly but kept her eyes on the monitors where they'd been for nine days.

Nine days, nearly two hundred employees, forty-three executives, sixteen personal assistants, eight travel coordinators, five candidates. And only one remained.

"There."

Everyone looked towards her, as she enlarged an employee profile until it filled the centre monitor.

Zara Lonsdale. An Executive Travel Coordinator. Twenty-eight. Employed by the James Group for seven years.

Perfect attendance, Excellent performance reviews. And no disciplinary history.

Bran rolled his chair closer. "I thought we'd ruled her out."

Melodie tapped another window. A spreadsheet of bank transfers appeared: monthly wages, Mortgage payments and Utilities.

Then dozens of transfers leaving the account within hours of her salary arriving.

Yuri was already opening another file. "Those payments, they don't match her credit history."

"They're not hers," Melodie said.

A few keystrokes later, Yuri found what she'd already suspected. "They belong to her younger brother."

Silence settled over the apartment. Outstanding debts totalling £312,486. With interest climbing every week.

And Multiple lenders. The last two weren't legitimate.

Bran's expression darkened. "That's organised crime."

Yuri nodded once. "They've already threatened him." He opened another folder. Filled with Police reports, all withdrawn. Hospital records, and unexplained injuries. Debt collection notices.

Everything stopped.

Even Alec.

"For God's sake…" Bran muttered. "She didn't borrow any of it."

Melly exhaled heavily "No."

"She's paying it anyway." Confirmed Bran. Who couldn't say he'd do the same for his siblings.

Melodie watched Zara's staff photo. There was something almost painfully ordinary about her.

She wasn't ambitious or corrupt. She wasn't looking for an opportunity. She was simply trying to stop her family from falling apart.

She was exactly the sort of person Melodie had hoped she wouldn't find.

Alec broke the silence. "So…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "We're really doing this?"

Melodie finally looked away from the monitors. "I've spent nine days trying to prove she wasn't our person."

"And?" he asked expectantly.

"I can't," she sighed, aggravated by the thought.

Alec leaned back. "I hate us for this."

That earned the smallest smile from Yuri. Not because it was funny, but because it was true.

None of them enjoyed operations like this. Breaking into networks was easy. Breaking into someone's life was messy.

Melodie stood and reached for her coat. "I'll meet her alone."

Bran looked up immediately. "I'll come."

"No."

"You don't know who's watching." Mused Bran.

"I do."

He held her gaze for a moment before sighing. "I hate it when you're right."

Smiling, she adjusted her coat. "You'll survive."

"I was hoping not to."

She picked up her car keys. "If anything changes, call me."

Alec raised a hand. "What if James Group suddenly catches fire?"

Pausing, Melodie glared at him. "Call the fire brigade."

"And then you?" He asked, confused.

"Preferably in that order."

Alec grinned. "Okay."

Rolling her eyes as she walked towards the door. Behind her, Bran called out, "Bring dinner home."

Turning, she stared blankly "I'm not Uber; you have hands- cook."

Standing, Bran narrowed his eyes. "It's your turn."

Opening the door, Melodie sneered. "Fine."

The apartment fell quiet as the door clicked shut.

Bran looked towards the window. "You think she'll do it?"

Yuri answered before anyone else could. "No."

Alec blinked. "…Then why bother?"

Yuri closed out Zara's file. "Because sometimes people don't choose the wrong thing. They choose the only thing left."

*

The leisure centre café was exactly as Melodie remembered. Overpriced bitter coffee, plastic chairs.

Children running past in soggy swimsuits while exhausted parents pretended not to notice.

No one paid attention to anyone else. Which made it the perfect place to disappear.

Out of habit, Melodie arrived ten minutes early. She chose a table with a clear view of every entrance and ordered the worst coffee she'd ever tasted.

At exactly two o'clock, a blonde woman stepped hesitantly into the café. She looked around twice before spotting Melodie.

"Miss Andrews?"

Melodie stood. "You must be Jane?"

The lie earned the faintest smile. "It's… Zara." She replied, lowering her eyes.

"I know." Nodded Melodie.

Zara blinked. "You know?"

"I know quite a lot." For a second, Melodie thought she might leave.

Instead, Zara sat down. Her hands never left the strap of her handbag.

"You said you worked for Baker Group."

Melodie nodded.

The waitress placed two coffees on the table before disappearing again. Neither woman touched them.

Lowering her gaze, Zara stared at her hands. "I almost didn't come."

"I expected that.”

Frowning, she looked up. “I nearly deleted your email.”

“I expected that too.” Melly smiled. “And I knew eventually, desperation would win.” Melodie reached into her satchel and produced a slim folder. “I’d like you to look at something.”

Inside were copies of financial statements, loan agreements, Police incident reports, and medical invoices. And every transfer Zara had made over the previous three years.

The colour drained from Zara’s face. “My God…” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “How did you get these?”

Melodie pointed at the documents. “They weren’t difficult to find.”

“You investigated me.”

Melodie met her eyes. “I investigated your circumstances.”

“They’re the same thing.”

Melodie shook her head “No.”

She gently closed the folder. “If I wanted leverage, I’d have approached someone greedy. Instead, I approached someone decent.”

Zara looked away. Tears were brimming in her eyes. “My brother made one stupid decision. He trusted the wrong people. He was only nineteen.” Using the back of her hand, she dabbed at her tears.

“I’ve spent three years trying to fix it. They keep adding interest. No matter how much I pay…”

“…it never gets smaller,” finished Melodie.

For the first time since she’d sat down, Zara’s composure cracked. “I’m so tired.”

Melodie didn’t interrupt. She’d learnt years ago that silence was often kinder than sympathy.

“I’ve sold my jewellery, my car, moved back in with my mum. I even work weekends. I’ve taken every overtime shift they’ll give me.” A tear slipped down Zara’s cheek.

“And it still isn’t enough.”

“No.” The answer was gentle. Matter of fact. Not cruel, just true. After a long silence, Melodie slid a second envelope across the table.

“Five hundred thousand pounds.”

Zara stared at it as though it might explode.

“Not all at once. Twelve monthly payments. Clean and untraceable.”

“And in return?” Zara asked.

“We need travel schedules. Board itineraries. Private flight manifests. Nothing financial. No client accounts and no personnel files. Just movement.”

Zara looked confused. “Why?”

“Because where people travel tells you far more than where they keep their money.”

“You really work in corporate intelligence.”

Melodie held her gaze. “If I wanted to destroy James Group…” A faint smile crossed her face. “…I’d be asking for something far more interesting.”

Despite herself, Zara almost laughed. Almost. “My manager trusts me. I don’t want to betray him.”

“I believe you.” Melodie folded her hands. “You’ve convinced yourself that saying yes makes you a bad person.”

Zara’s eyes filled again.

“But saying no doesn’t save your brother.”

Silence.

Outside, there was the noise of children as they hurried towards the swimming pool. Inside, the café carried on as though two lives weren’t quietly changing forever.

Finally, Zara whispered, “If I do this…No one can ever know.”

“They won’t.” Melodie slid a business card across the table.

“Afterwards…”

“We disappear.” For the first time, Zara looked directly at her.

“Who are you, people?”

Melodie smiled. “The people giving you a second chance.”

Zara closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the decision had already been made. “…I’ll do it.”

*

The apartment smelled of fresh coffee and solder. Bran looked up as the front door opened.

“Well?”

Melodie tossed the signed agreement onto the dining table. “She said yes.”

Nobody celebrated. Alec simply exhaled. “I was hoping she’d tell us to go to hell.”

“So was I,” Bran admitted.

Yuri quietly closed Zara’s file and encrypted it. “No more background checks. No more surveillance. From now on…”

“She’s one of ours.” Melodie smiled.

“No.” Yuri looked up. “She’s someone we’re responsible for.”

No one argued because they all knew that distinction mattered.