The ballroom no longer felt like a celebration.
It felt like a crime scene.
Evelyn stared at the paused image on Adrian's phone—Maya's wrists bound, her head forced down, harsh fluorescent light exposing the terror in her eyes.
One hour.
Ten million dollars.
Or she disappears.
"This isn't about money," Evelyn said quietly.
Adrian's jaw flexed. "No."
Marcus hovered close, pale. "We need to call the police."
"No," Evelyn and Adrian said at the same time.
They exchanged a brief look.
Calling the police would escalate the situation. Public exposure. Media frenzy. If the kidnappers were monitoring internal systems—and they clearly were—any external move could cost Maya her life.
Adrian turned to the board, who were still frozen in various stages of disbelief.
"This building is now on full lockdown," he said evenly. "No one leaves."
A murmur of outrage began immediately.
"You can't be serious—"
"I am."
His uncle stepped forward, voice calm but edged. "You're overstepping."
"Someone just siphoned ten million dollars using your clearance," Adrian replied. "And an employee has been abducted. I am not overstepping."
Evelyn's mind was racing.
Parking garage.
Dim lighting.
Concrete pillars painted with faded numbers.
She stepped closer to Adrian and lowered her voice.
"Zoom into the background."
He did.
The image sharpened slightly.
Behind Maya, a partial wall sign came into focus.
Level B2.
A red stripe across the pillar.
And—Evelyn's pulse spiked—a logo barely visible on the far wall.
A silver falcon.
She knew that logo.
"Northpoint Plaza," she breathed.
Adrian looked at her sharply. "You're sure?"
"My first year here, we rented overflow office space there during renovations. The underground garage has that falcon emblem."
Marcus was already pulling up maps on his tablet.
"It's twelve minutes away," he said.
Adrian's gaze hardened.
"They want the transfer in one hour," Marcus added. "That gives us—"
"Forty-eight minutes," Evelyn interrupted. "Because they'll expect processing time."
Silence.
Adrian looked at her carefully.
"You're thinking of going."
"I'm thinking," she replied, "that if we wire the money, we validate the leverage. If we don't, Maya pays the price."
"And if we walk into a trap?" he asked quietly.
"It already is one."
His uncle watched them, expression unreadable.
"Emotional decisions," he murmured. "Dangerous."
Evelyn turned to him.
"You don't seem surprised."
"I'm observing."
"Convenient."
Adrian stepped closer to her.
"If this is Northpoint Plaza, security cameras there will be easier to access. It's a commercial building, not one of ours."
"Which means fewer internal backdoors," she finished.
Marcus hesitated. "Sir… if this is connected to the earlier breach, whoever's orchestrating it might anticipate that you'd identify the location."
Evelyn nodded slowly.
"Exactly."
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"So we don't go directly."
She shook her head.
"No. We let them think we're panicking."
A flicker of understanding passed between them.
"We stall the transfer," Adrian said quietly.
"Not stall," Evelyn corrected. "We initiate it."
Marcus blinked. "You just said—"
"We initiate it in escrow," she continued quickly. "A conditional transfer that requires biometric confirmation at the receiving end."
Adrian's expression sharpened.
"That forces physical presence," he said.
"And buys us time," she added.
Marcus looked uncertain. "They might notice the condition."
"They will," Adrian said. "Which means they'll have to adjust."
Evelyn's phone buzzed again.
Another message.
Another frame from the video.
This time, Maya's face was lifted.
Her lip was bleeding.
A digital timestamp in the corner.
Live.
Evelyn's hands trembled despite herself.
Adrian saw it.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear.
"We will get her back."
"That's not a promise you can guarantee," she replied.
"It's one I intend to keep."
Their eyes held.
This wasn't just corporate warfare anymore.
This was personal.
"Marcus," Adrian said firmly. "Prepare a ten-million-dollar conditional transfer to Argent Vale Holdings. Biometric verification required at point of acceptance."
Marcus nodded and hurried off.
The board erupted into arguments behind them.
"This is insanity—"
"You're negotiating with criminals—"
"Ten million dollars—"
Adrian turned slowly.
"Ten million dollars is replaceable," he said. "Human lives are not."
The room fell silent.
Even his uncle didn't interrupt that.
Evelyn leaned closer.
"If this is bigger than us," she said quietly, "then Maya isn't random."
"No," Adrian agreed. "She's leverage."
"Or she knows something."
He looked at her sharply.
"What do you mean?"
"She manages my calendar," Evelyn said. "She handles confidential correspondence. She would've seen meeting patterns, late-night work sessions… she might have noticed anomalies before we did."
Adrian's expression shifted.
"You think they took her to silence her?"
"I think," Evelyn said carefully, "that she may have stumbled onto something."
Marcus returned, breathing tight.
"Transfer prepared. Awaiting your authorization."
Adrian looked at Evelyn.
She nodded once.
He pressed confirm.
On-screen, the transfer status shifted to Pending Biometric Verification.
Seconds later, another message arrived.
Nice try. Remove the condition.
Evelyn exhaled slowly.
"They're watching in real time."
Adrian typed a reply before she could stop him.
Proof of life.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then—
A live video feed opened.
Maya sobbing quietly.
One of the men forced her head back.
"Tell them to send it," he growled.
"Please," she whispered. "Please just—"
The feed cut.
Evelyn's throat tightened.
"They'll hurt her," Marcus whispered.
"Yes," Evelyn said. "But they haven't yet."
Adrian looked at her.
"You have a theory."
She nodded slowly.
"They don't want her dead. They want control."
"Over what?" he asked.
She hesitated.
"Over us."
The symmetry again.
Frame Evelyn.
Frame the uncle.
Now force Adrian to choose between money and morality.
Divide them.
Isolate them.
Break them.
Another message buzzed in.
Thirty minutes. No conditions. Or we escalate.
Adrian's phone vibrated again—this time not a message.
An internal alert.
He frowned.
"What now?" Evelyn asked.
He looked at the screen.
His expression darkened.
"The escrow account."
"What about it?"
"It's been accessed."
"That's impossible," Marcus said. "Only you authorized it."
Adrian shook his head slowly.
"The biometric verification just cleared."
Evelyn felt the air leave her lungs.
"What?" she whispered.
Marcus rushed to the central console.
"That can't be— there was no physical confirmation—"
"The system logs show fingerprint authentication," Adrian said quietly.
Silence swallowed them whole.
"Whose fingerprint?" Evelyn asked.
Adrian looked up.
His eyes locked onto hers.
"The biometric signature matches yours."
The world tilted.
"That's not possible," she said faintly. "I'm standing right here."
Marcus stared at the screen in horror.
"The authentication was registered… from inside this building."
A cold realization crept down Evelyn's spine.
Inside.
Here.
Which meant—
The woman who looked like her.
The impersonator.
Wasn't at Northpoint Plaza.
She was still in the building.
And she had just used Evelyn's fingerprint.
The ballroom lights flickered once.
Then again.
The security screens went black.
And from somewhere down the executive hallway—
a single gunshot echoed.