The Billionaire Who Hired Me To Destroy Him

Chapter 5: The First File

The archive door clicked shut behind Mara. She stood still for a moment. Total silence no employees, no phones, no footsteps. Just rows of locked cabinets and computer terminals holding years of Cross Group's secrets.

She looked at the black access card Adrian gave her. Unlimited access. It still felt like a trick.

She walked to the nearest terminal and inserted the card. The screen lit up: WELCOME, MARA VALE. Her stomach tightened someone had already set up her access.

She typed a name: Victor Black. Hundreds of files appeared financial reports, meeting schedules, investment records. Nothing unusual. Victor had worked with the Cross family for almost twenty years. He was there when Richard Cross was alive, and there when her father was accused. He was still there now.

She leaned in. There had to be something more. She tried a new search: Daniel Vale. More files appeared, most marked restricted. One folder stood out: PROJECT VESPER. She had never heard of it. She clicked it.

ACCESS DENIED.

She tried again. Denied. Her fingers tightened on the keyboard. Adrian had promised her full access so why was this locked? She remembered his warning: There are things you aren't ready to understand.

She glanced at the entrance, then tried an old trick from her earlier investigation. She typed one word: VALE.

PASSWORD ACCEPTED.

She froze. "What?"

The folder opened. Inside was a single video: VESPER_07. Her heart raced as she clicked it.

The screen went black, then showed an old recording—seven years old. She recognized the room instantly: her father's office. Daniel Vale sat at his desk. Richard Cross sat across from him. Victor Black stood behind them.

She stopped breathing and turned up the volume.

Richard looked furious. "You said the transfer was handled."

Victor shook his head. "Plans change."

Daniel slammed his hand on the desk. "You promised no one would touch my company."

Victor smiled. "You're asking the wrong question."

"Then what should I ask?"

Victor leaned in. "Who benefits when both of you fall?"

The video glitched. Mara leaned closer.

Victor continued, "You have forty-eight hours. After that, disappear."

Daniel looked scared. "Victor, what have you done?"

The video ended. Mara sat frozen—her father's frightened face was the last thing she saw. He hadn't looked guilty. He'd looked terrified.

She grabbed a flash drive and started copying the video. The progress bar climbed—seventy percent, eighty, ninety—

Then she heard a sound behind her. She froze.

*Click.* The archive door locked.

She turned around slowly. No one there. She scanned the dark room. "Hello?"

Nothing.

She grabbed her phone no signal. The lights flickered once, twice, then went out completely. Her heart pounded. She stepped back.

A shadow moved between the shelves. Someone else was in the room. She grabbed the nearest object—a heavy metal paperweight.

"Who's there?"

Silence. Then slow, steady footsteps came closer. She backed away. The emergency lights clicked on, casting a dim red glow.

A tall man in black stood at the end of the aisle, his face hidden behind a mask. Mara's heart slammed in her chest.

The masked man stared at the flash drive in her hand. "You shouldn't have found that."

She tightened her grip. "Who are you?"

He stepped forward. "You're asking the wrong question."

"Then what should I ask?"

He stopped. Neither of them moved for a few seconds. Then his eyes shifted to the screen. "The real question," he said quietly, "is why did Adrian Cross want you to find it?"

Her blood ran cold. "How do you know Adrian?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his jacket. She raised the paperweight. "Don't."

He stopped, then slowly pulled out a folded photo and tossed it onto the table. Mara looked down and went cold. It showed her father standing with Richard Cross and Victor Black. Written across it in red ink, ONE OF THEM LIED.

When she looked up, the masked man was gone. The archive door stood wide open, and somewhere outside, footsteps faded into the darkness.