Chapter Sixteen
The room was quiet except for the soft hum of a fan and the rhythmic tapping of Caleb Hart's fingers on his desk. He leaned back in his leather chair, the faint glow of the city skyline spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. The office was pristine, every surface polished to a gleaming finish, but there was an air of menace that hung heavy in the space.
Caleb's eyes flicked over the file on his desk. A black-and-white photograph of James Holloway stared back at him, clipped to a stack of neatly typed reports. He hadn't looked at this file in years. The kid was nothing more than a loose end—a cautionary tale of what happened when you crossed him.
"Why now?" Caleb murmured, his deep voice cutting through the silence.
"Sir?"
Caleb looked up to see his assistant, Marcus, standing in the doorway. A tall, wiry man with a sharp gaze, Marcus was the closest thing Caleb had to a confidant.
"Why would someone be asking questions about Holloway now?" Caleb said, gesturing to the file. "It's been a decade. Nobody cared back then. Why care now?"
Marcus stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. "I've been digging into the PI you hired. Richard Cole. He's thorough, but he doesn't know when to stop. Word is, he's been seen meeting with two people—young, mid-20s, one male, one female. Matches the description of Aria Hensley and Ethan Kane."
Caleb's lips twitched into a faint smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Hensley," he repeated, testing the name. "That's the girl from the party, isn't it? The one James kept watching all night."
Marcus nodded. "That's the one. She left shortly before everything went down. Clean record. Quiet life. Seems like she's managed to stay out of trouble—until now."
"And the man?" Caleb asked.
"Ethan Kane. Lawyer. Works at a mid-sized firm downtown. No criminal ties that we've found, but he's been seen with her several times recently. Looks like he's involved in whatever they're digging into."
Caleb leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "Do they know what happened?"
Marcus hesitated. "Not yet. But they're asking the right questions. If they keep pushing, it's only a matter of time before they connect the dots."
Caleb's smile vanished. "We can't have that."
"What do you want to do?" Marcus asked.
Caleb considered his options. Normally, he wouldn't waste his time on a couple of amateurs poking around in things they didn't understand. But the fact that they were looking into James's death was... inconvenient.
"Keep an eye on them," Caleb said finally. "I want to know where they go, who they talk to, and what they know. If they get too close to the truth..." He let the sentence hang, the unspoken threat clear.
Marcus nodded. "Understood."
As Marcus turned to leave, Caleb picked up the photograph of James, studying it closely. The kid had been reckless, desperate, and ultimately unlucky. But his death had been an accident—a regrettable, messy accident.
Or so Caleb had always believed.
For the first time in years, a flicker of doubt crept into his mind. What if there was more to that night than he'd realized? What if someone else had a hand in James's fall—and was using Aria and Ethan to dig up the past?
"Find out everything about them," Caleb called after Marcus. "And make sure they know whose game they're playing."
Marcus paused in the doorway, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Already on it."
As the door clicked shut, Caleb leaned back in his chair, the weight of the past pressing down on him. He had built his empire on control, on knowing every move before it happened. But this... this felt like a game he wasn't sure he could win.
For the first time in years, Caleb felt a sliver of unease. And he hated it.
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