Ex wife Revenge on Ex husband

Crossroads of Truth

The motel room smelled like stale coffee and desperation. Clara stared at the burner phone. A text appeared from Vivian, glowing like a light bulb flashing a warning: *12 hours. Don't trust the coordinates.*

Nova Scotia, six hours distant. She had already wasted two of them.

Ethan's voice in the video: "Meet me at the docks. Warehouse 12. Midnight."

But the AI had spat out coordinates for a remote cove just outside of Halifax. A trap? Or just paranoia from Vivian?

Clara grabbed her go-bag; cash, burner, taser, and headed for the door.

The coast of Nova Scotia was a plethora of grays-slates of waves, cloudy sky, and the skeleton docks lining the horizon. Warehouse 12 appeared on the scene, rusted and quiet.

Clara advanced, taser at the ready. The door creaked open.

Empty.

No Ethan. No guards. Just an envelope lying on the floor.

Inside was a photo of her and Richard, taken ten years prior, laughing in a café. On the back was scrawled: *"You always were too predictable, Elena."*

A twig snapped behind her.

"Looking for someone?"

Vivian emerged from the shadows, high collar pulled up. "I told you not to trust the coordinates."

Clara tightened her grip on the taser. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because Richard's AI is more than a weapon; it's a *key*." Vivian took out a tablet displaying lines of code. "This project? It's not about elections. It's about *control*. The AI learns to predict *everything*—stock market, political shifts, even... *people's deaths*."

Clara's blood ran cold. "What do you want?"

"To take down Richard. My family funded his startup, but he has been siphoning money. And my father...he's not well. Richard is using the AI to manipulate his treatment. To make him... *agreeable*." Vivian's voice trembled. "Ethan isn't here. He's at Richard's estate in the Catskills. The coordinates? A decoy to draw you out of the city."

Clara's mind raced. *Could she trust her?*

"Why tell me this?"

"Because you're the only one who can stop him. You wrote the original code. You know its weaknesses." Vivian held out a key. "My father's private jet. It is fueled, and we leave in 20 minutes."

Flashback: Clara and Richard, 5 years ago, on the night she had been said to have "drowned."*

Richard had tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Elena. The investors... they want the AI for defense contracts. I tried to say no."

Clara was packing a bag. "You chose them over us. Over *me*."*

Richard grabbed her arm. "I swear I will fix this."

Clara yanked her arm free. "Fix it? You *broke* it."*

Present Day

Clara looked at the key. "How do I know this isn't another trap?"

Vivian's laugh was bitter. "Check your gallery's security feed. Last night, after you left, Richard's men broke in. They weren't looking for you. They were looking for *this*." She pulled a small device from her pocket—a black box, etched with a logo: *Eclipse Corp*.

Clara sucked in her breath. *Eclipse.* The name of their old startup. The one Richard had dissolved after her "death."

"It's a backup server," said Vivian. "The original AI code. The one *you* wrote. Richard thought he lost it. But I found it. And I need you to reactivate it."

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