Sophia's POV
The silence in the car was suffocating, broken only by the hum of the engine and the faint creak of leather seats as Sophia shifted uncomfortably. Ethan Blackwood sat across from her, his gaze distant, his hands clasped tightly as if holding back a storm.
For all his polished charm and sharp-edged confidence, he looked... haunted.
"What's at Pier 47?" Sophia demanded, breaking the silence. "And don't tell me you don't know because I'm not buying it."
Ethan's jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to her briefly before returning to the window. "I warned you, Sophia. You're in over your head."
"That's not an answer," she snapped. "What's Project Eclipse? And what does it have to do with Rachel Turner?"
At the mention of Rachel, Ethan flinched—a subtle reaction, but enough to confirm her suspicions. She leaned forward, her voice low but unrelenting.
"She didn't just disappear, did she? Something happened to her. Something you're trying to hide."
Ethan turned to her, his eyes cold. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Then enlighten me," Sophia shot back. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're up to your neck in something illegal, and people are dying because of it."
The car screeched to a halt, throwing Sophia against the seatbelt. Ethan had ordered the driver to stop, and now his gaze pinned her like a hawk.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "There are things you don't understand, things that are bigger than you, bigger than me. If you keep digging, you're going to get yourself killed."
Sophia stared at him, her heart pounding. For the first time, she saw something other than arrogance or control in his expression. It was fear—raw and unmasked.
"You're afraid," she said softly. "Why?"
Ethan leaned back, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, it looked like he might actually answer her, but instead, he gave the driver a sharp nod.
"Take us to the penthouse."
Sophia paced Ethan's penthouse, her mind racing. The sprawling space was as meticulously designed as the man himself—sleek, modern, and painfully impersonal.
Ethan stood by the window, his back to her, his silhouette outlined by the city lights.
"You need to stop," he said finally.
"Stop what?" Sophia countered. "Asking questions? Trying to uncover the truth? That's not going to happen."
He turned, his expression hard. "You think this is a game? People have died because of what you're digging into. Rachel Turner is just one name on a long list."
Sophia's breath caught. "So you admit it? She's dead?"
Ethan didn't respond immediately, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Rachel was... collateral damage. She got caught up in something she shouldn't have."
"And what exactly was that?" Sophia pressed, stepping closer. "What is Project Eclipse?"
Ethan hesitated, his fists clenching at his sides. Then, as if making a decision, he strode to a cabinet and retrieved a folder. He held it out to her, his expression grim.
"You want answers? Here."
Sophia took the folder, her fingers trembling as she opened it. The first page was a contract—Rachel Turner's name at the top. Below it, phrases like *human experimentation* and *classified subjects* jumped out at her.
"What the hell is this?" she whispered.
"A mistake," Ethan said quietly. "A project that should never have seen the light of day. Blackwood Industries was funding medical research—a way to advance regenerative medicine. But the people running it... they took it too far."
Sophia's stomach churned as she flipped through the pages, each more damning than the last. Illegal trials, falsified reports, deaths covered up as "accidents."
"And you knew about this?" she asked, her voice shaking with anger.
"I found out too late," Ethan said, his tone raw. "By the time I realized what was happening, Rachel had already—" He stopped, his jaw tightening. "She was trying to expose them. They silenced her."
Sophia's vision blurred with rage. "You mean *you* silenced her. Don't act like you're some helpless bystander, Ethan. This was your company!"
"I didn't kill her," he snapped, his voice rising. "But I couldn't stop them either. You think I don't live with that every damn day?"
The weight of his confession hung in the air, pressing down on both of them.
Sophia took a step back, clutching the folder to her chest. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because if you keep going, they'll come after you too," Ethan said. "And I can't—" He broke off, his expression conflicted.
"You can't what?" Sophia demanded.
Ethan exhaled sharply, turning back to the window. "I can't let them destroy another innocent life."
Sophia didn't sleep that night. She sat on the edge of the sleek leather couch Ethan had grudgingly offered her, the folder spread out in front of her.
The documents confirmed everything she'd suspected—and more. Blackwood Industries wasn't just corrupt; it was dangerous. And Ethan, for all his money and power, was caught in its web.
But the question remained: Was he a victim or a villain?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. She glanced up to see Ethan standing there, his expression unreadable.
"We need to move," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Whoever tipped you off about Pier 47 wasn't trying to help you," Ethan said. "They were setting you up. And now they know you have those files."
Sophia's blood ran cold. "So what do we do?"
Ethan stepped closer, his gaze locking onto hers. "We fight back. But if we're going to take them down, we have to do it together."
Sophia hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in.
"I don't trust you," she said finally.
"Good," Ethan said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Trust will only get you killed. But if you want to survive this, you'll have to follow my lead."
The challenge in his eyes sparked something in her—a mix of defiance and determination.
"Fine," she said, standing. "But if you screw me over, Blackwood, I'll make sure the whole world knows what you've done."
Ethan's smirk faded, replaced by something darker. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
As the
first rays of dawn broke over the city, Sophia knew one thing for certain: there was no turning back now.