NOAH

Ever since the encrypted message had come from Zane, it had hit my phone like a gunshot in the dead of night, its cold glow slicing through the darkness of my office. I could still recall the venom I felt as I read out the text and wanting to relieve the rage, I pulled out my phone and read it again, for what seemed like the millionth time in 48 hours.

"Harper West is a loose end. Handle it permanently. Leave no traces."

I was right to be pissed, those words were stripped of warmth, as if ordering Harper West's death was just another transaction in Atlas's billion-dollar ledger. But this wasn't some rival cartel runner or a snitch who had crossed the line. It was Harper West. The journalist who had dared to expose the cartel roots festering beneath Atlas's tech-investment empire, only for me to crush her work with ruthless precision, because I had been a dutiful soldier obeying an order. But not this time.

My fingers hovered over the screen, trembling with rage, as I typed in a few letters to send over to Zane. But I deleted the reply before typing another apologetic word. Pleading again after our brawl in the lounge was pointless. I had already laid my case bare, having begged for the only favor I had ever asked in over ten years of loyalty for Harper to live. His response had been unyielding regardless.

It had been a decade since he had pulled me from my visionless life, given me a stake in Atlas, turned my rogue coding into a multibillion-dollar shield for our cartel operations, yet he couldn't spare her life for me.

Rebellion flared in my chest, its spark igniting after years of loyal obedience. For the first time, I hated Zane. How could he not grant me that one mercy?

"Fine. I'd take it, even if it meant torching the empire we'd built." I whispered to the faint hum of servers tucked behind a glass panel. My reflection stared back from the window. I noticed how my eyes had become dark from sleepless nights. Zane and Harper would be the death of me.

Harper wasn't making this easy. Since Audrey and I had pulled the rug under her exposé, she had been shattered. I had watched her through security feeds my men had in her apartment.

Guilt had gnawed at me every night, giving a replay of how I had blindly chosen Atlas over her, protecting the empire's facade at the cost of the woman who had made me dream of something beyond bloody crimes.

But no more. Zane's refusal had snapped the chains on my loyalty.

I grabbed my keys from the desk, feeling the cold metal against my palm, and strode to the elevator. I pat my pocket to be sure that the USB drive in my inner jacket was still there. The USB contained live recordings of Atlas's darkest secrets, from cartel shipments disguised as AI prototypes to money laundering through venture capital deals, Zane's voice ordering hits in encrypted chats all timestamped, to avoid deniability. It was a leverage I had been compiling, blame it on being paranoid in a cartel world. If the content was ever streamed live, it would have exposed Atlas for what it really was: a cartel front. Zane, Damian, Ethan, Liam, and I would all go down for it too. But for Harper? I would hand it over and watch the flames consume it all.

The elevator hummed downward, the sterile light reflecting my resolve back at me. In the garage, I pulled up to my black SUV, roaring its engine, as I slid into the leather seat.

It had started to rain, and it battered the windshield in furious waves, the wipers slashing frantically as I pulled into the wet streets heading for Harper's apartment.

What was I doing?

Throwing away a decade of loyalty to a woman who had used me as a source? If I gave Harper the drive, our empire would implode, and thousands of employees would also get caught in the fallout. And me? I would become a branded betrayer, hunted by the only family I had known.

Was she worth it? The question clawed at me relentlessly.

My worry gnawed deeper as the traffic crawled on with headlights slicing through the rain . Zane would never forgive me for it. He would hunt me with the same ruthlessness he had used on our enemies.

But just as the wipers cleared the windshield, my doubt ebbed away. Fuck Zane Calloway.

I parked two blocks away from her apartment, killing the engine, and pinned the Glock strap on me and stepped into the deluge. As I moved through backstreets, the rain soaked my jeans in a minute, making me hasten my steps until I broke into a run, while the wind whipped the rain into my face like a lash.

When I got to her window, I paused, my breath formed a fog on the pane. I peeped inside the room. It had a single flickering lamp, making it a bit dim to see clearly. There were tons of takeout boxes, and Kleenex papers almost everywhere. I peeped closer until I saw Harper sat curled on the couch, her knees drawn tight to her chest. Her hair fell in tangled strands to her cheeks, sunken as she kept staring into nothingness. She looked fragile for the fierce journalist who had challenged Atlas.

If I had any doubt about what I had planned to do, seeing her in that state cemented my choice. I felt peace settle over me, dissolving my doubts. This was right. She was worth it.

I rapped on the glass in three sharp knocks.

She jolted, head snapping up with alarm.

Fear flashed across her face until she looked in my direction and, recognizing me, she got up slowly, the blanket slipping to reveal rumpled sweats hanging loose on her frame. She approached the window with cautious steps. I heard the bolt click, and she slid it open.

"Noah?" Her voice was rough, "What are you doing here? Come to gloat? Or finish the job your hacks started?"

I climbed through. "Hello, Miss journalist. I'm here to fix this."

She closed the window, latching it with a sharp click, then leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Fix? What's left to fix?"

I peeled off my soaked jacket, hanging it on a chair, water dripping onto the hardwood. My shirt clung to my skin, cold and heavy, but I ignored it, focusing on her. The room felt smaller with us both in it, "Zane ordered the hit. On you. Loose end, he called it."

I noticed how color drained from her already pale face, but she didn't break. She took three steps to the kitchenette and three back, "A kill order? For exposing the truth? Jesus, Noah, I knew Atlas was dirty, but this..." She stopped, eyes narrowing. "Why tell me?"

I stepped into her path, halting her. "You were right about everything. I debunked your story to protect it. But now? I'm done protecting it."

She searched my face, skepticism battling a flicker of hope. "Why now? What's changed?"

I reached for her hand, but she pulled back. I didn't blame her. "Because I asked Zane to spare you. My one favor after ten years. He refused. For the first time, I hate him for it."

She sank onto the couch after a long pause, gesturing for me to join. I did, since it was not big, our thighs were brushing against each other, sending heat sparking through me. "What now?" she asked.

"Better than hiding away." I pulled the drive from my pocket, holding it up. "This contains live recordings of Atlas's crimes in real time. Stream this live and salvage your career. Expose us all for good."

Her eyes widened, and with trembling hands, she took it, turning it over in her palm like it might burn her. "This... it would destroy you. Zane, your brothers and they would hunt you too."

"Let them." The words came out easily. I cupped her face, ignoring her flinch, my thumb brushing her cheekbone. Her skin was warm, soft against the cold of my hand, "Harper, I choose you. Let Atlas burn."

Tears glistened in her eyes, but she leaned into my touch. "Noah... why? After I used and exposed you?"

"Because you saw me." "I am sorry it took Zane's order for me to realize what a mess I am."

She searched my face, then leaned in, her lips brushing mine. "How will the world believe me now? I lost my platform and credibility,." she whispered.

"You can stream live on my laptop. It is secured."

I pulled away from her enough to reach for my bag and pick the laptop from the bag, setting it on the cluttered coffee table.

I set up the laptop, my fingers flying over keys as I routed through proxies. I played a test clip of Zane's voice ordering a hit,

"Damning. This salvages me," she murmured and I heard the fear in her voice,

"No regrets."

"Okay. Are you sure you want to go down like this?"

"I am, let's do this."

She nodded, patting my hand.

She was worth it. Fuck Atlas.

HARPER.

"Hold on"

I sat frozen on the edge of the sagging couch, the USB drive clutched in my fist like a lifeline, because it actually was. The cold plastic in my palm was a contrast to the burning weight of what Noah had just unloaded. His confession played out on my laptop as he laid it all out. I had known pieces of their atrocities, but hearing it from him, being an accomplice, slapped harder.

The air in the room felt thicker, laden with the scent of his rain-soaked clothes. My heart pounded erratically, each beat a reminder of the chaos he had just invited into my life.

Shock had rooted me to the spot as he spoke. I had dug into Atlas myself, but that confessional would shake the tech world. Noah Bennett had turned on his brothers for... me? It was too good to be true, and it left me at a loss for breath.

By the time he hit stop on the recording, leaning back with a sigh that ruffled his damp hair, I was torn in ways I hadn't anticipated. Admiration for him swelled within me. He had chosen to speak up by handing me the weapon to resurrect my career from the ruins he had helped create.

I wasn't supposed to admire what he had done, knowing he had been the one to hack my files, twist my evidence into lies and stand by as Audrey spun the press narrative that painted me as unreliable. I was supposed to despise him as the enemy who had stolen my life's work. Yet, each second in his presence made my heart skip, a treacherous flutter that betrayed me especially seeing the way his wet shirt clung to his broad chest. I found myself following the rain lines on him with my eyes, remembering how those same lines had softened under my touch in quieter moments.

What was I to do with him?

The drive sat heavy in my hand, holding the power to ruin Atlas and everyone tied to it, including Noah. If I streamed it, his disloyalty would get him killed. I had written enough about cartels' modes of operations to know that men like Zane and the brothers would never forgive a betrayal like that. They would hunt him with the same cold efficiency they'd used on rivals.

And when the news hit the world? They would crucify him for his crimes, complicity in murders, too. There was no way out for Noah.

I held the cards to call the shots, but for the first time in my life, indecision paralyzed me. My fingers itched to plug in the USB drive and hit broadcast and watch my career phoenix from the ashes, yet my heart rebelled against me.

Noah watched me from across the couch, his dark eyes searching mine. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, "Harper? You've been quiet. I know it's overwhelming, but this... this is your way back. Stream it. Let the world see the truth."

I swallowed hard, as I tried to talk. My voice came out quieter than the rain pattering against the window. "Overwhelming? Noah, you just dumped the underbelly of a cartel empire in my lap. I knew bits but hearing it from you... It's like staring into the abyss." I trailed off, shock still coursed through me, leaving my limbs shallow.

He nodded, "I know. I was part of it. Built the firewalls, erased the trails. But I'm done hiding. For you."

Again, admiration flickered in my gut. He had turned on his family and life, for me. My heart skipped a traitorous beat, as I met his gaze. "That's the problem. You're giving me this to salvage my career. It is admirable, really and brave. But I should hate you. You ruined me. Debunked everything I worked for. Yet..." I paused.

"Yet what?" He shifted closer, his thigh brushing mine, heat seeping through the thin fabric of my sweats. His woody cologne filled the space between us, making my pulse stutter.

I looked away, staring at the drive in my hand, turning it over as if it held answers. "Yet each second with you makes my heart race. I fell for you, Noah, even when I knew better. Now it too late to back off now. But using this drive means destroying you too. This will get you killed and the world will hang you for the crimes."

He exhaled slowly, his breath warm on my cheek as he took my hand, letting his fingers interlace with mine. "Then let them. I've lived in that world too long. ]I choose you, Harper. Let it ruin."

The words made my heart skipped again, pulling me under. What was I to do? Stream it and watch him face the consequences? Should I trade his life for my career? Justice demanded it for the crimes he had confessed were monstrous, lives lost in the shadows of Atlas's wake. For the first time in my life, each choice open to me would end up as a loss.

"Noah," I whispered, pulling my hand free to stand, the blanket pooling at my feet. The floor creaked under my socks as I paced to the window. "If I use this, you're done. Hearing what you say now, how can I let that happen?"

He rose, and approached me, his boots leaving faint wet prints. He stopped behind me, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders, "You can because it's right. I am owning up to my crimes, use it to salvage what I took from you."

I turned, facing him, our bodies close in the narrow space, I held my breath as I searched his eyes and saw it held no regret. "That's what confuses me. I admire you for speaking up and turning on them. It's... heroic, in a twisted way. But I can't. Not when being near you feels like this."

"Like what?" He cupped my face, his thumb brushing my lower lip, sending sparks down my spine. The touch was gentle, but it ignited something deep, my pulse quickening in readiness for more.

"Like my heart's betraying me," I admitted. "I fell for you, Noah Bennett. Too late to deny it. If I play the cards I am dealt, you die. If I don't, my career stays dead. Justice or mercy? For the first time in my life, I don't know to do."

He pulled me closer, his forehead resting against mine, his breath fanning my face. "Then don't decide alone."

My stomach twisted as I pulled back slightly, his hands dropping to my arms. "Noah, how can I not hate that part of you?"

"You can hate it," he said, "Hate the man I was. But see the one I'm becoming. For you."

I sighed, realizing the conversation did nothing but stretch my confusion more.

I moved to the kitchenette, as I poured water with shaking hands, the glass clinking against the faucet. "Tell me," I said, sliding him a glass, "Would you mind dying?."

He sipped, his throat bobbing with each swallow, but his eyes never left mine. "No. I would die knowing I chose right."

"But Atlas crashing would crash the stock market. Thousands and Millions would lose their jobs. And you... I can't let that happen. I hold the shots, but firing them feels like suicide."

He set the glass down, pulling me into his arms, "Then don't fire yet. Sleep on it. But Harper, whatever you decide, I'm here."

The embrace was a haven in the turmoil; his love had blurred the lines of justice, leaving me lost in the gray. A reminder that love had complicated everything.

FINALLY, I AM ONE OF THEM.

AVA

"Fabulous"

I smiled at the producer, a wiry Frenchman named Lucien with a clipboard perpetually tucked under his arm and a cigarette dangling from his lips even when unlit, who watched from behind the camera setup.

"Positions, everyone!" the producer, Lucien, called out, his voice cutting through the wind with that clipped French accent.

The Eiffel Tower loomed above me like a steel sentinel against the Parisian sky, its iron latticework catching the hues of the late afternoon sun. I stood at its base, the wind whipping my hair wildly, the luxury brand's silk gown clinging to my curves like a second skin.

The fabric shimmered in deep emerald, catching the light in ways that made me feel invincible, a part of the city's eternal romance. My heart raced with pure joy. That elation feeling that bubbled up from deep within, making my steps lighter and my poses sharper. This was my element, and that day, I was owning it.

Lucien's eyes narrowed in concentration, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as I struck another pose, my arm extended gracefully toward the tower with my chin up.

The photographer's shutter clicked in rapid succession, the sound blending with the distant hum of tourists and the occasional honk from the Seine traffic below. "Magnifique, Ava!" Lucien called out, his voice carrying over the wind. "Your aura is so electric today. Like the tower itself is bowing to you."

"You can say that again," I laughed, the sound light and genuine, feeling the compliment settle warm in my chest. I pivoted on my heel, the gown swirling around my legs, and shot him a playful glance over my shoulder.

"Love it" He called out

"You think so? Maybe it's the Paris air. Or the fact that I'm finally feeling like I'm on top of the world."

He stepped closer as the photographer paused to adjust lighting, his clipboard forgotten for a moment. Lucien was in his fifties but his vibrant energy matched mine.

"No, chérie, it's you. I've worked with models who pose, but you embody it. That glow didn't just come from the makeup or the dress. What's your secret today?"

I arched an eyebrow, holding the pose even as we talked, the wind tugging at the gown's hem. My mind flickered to my recent initiation with the cartel. The thrill of being "added" to the gang, as Zane had put it with that protective big-brother grin. Newly minted in their world, I was eager to prove myself, and show them I could handle the dirty work alongside the glamour.

But I kept that detail locked away, offering Lucien a coy smile instead. "Let's say it's a combination of new opportunities and power. Makes a girl shine, doesn't it?"

He chuckled, waving the photographer back into action. "Indeed. Keep that fire, it's selling the brand. One more set near the base, then we're golden."

I nodded, diving back into the shoot with everything I had. My A-game was amplified. Each click of the camera felt like a challenge I met with grace. The team scooped around me, my stylists adjusting my hair between shots, assistants holding reflectors, all murmuring their approvals,

"You're killing it, Ava," one stylist whispered as she touched up my lipstick, her brush feather-light on my lips.

By the time Lucien called wrap, I was starting to feel exhaustion tug at my muscles, but it was the good kind, the ache of accomplishment. The team gathered around, clapping lightly, Lucien leading with a dramatic bow.

"That was a triumph, mademoiselle. The campaign will be legendary because of you."

I curtsied in return, the gown pooling elegantly around me. "Couldn't have done it without this team. Paris magic, right?"

He kissed my cheeks in the French fashion, his stubble scratching me lightly. "Rest well special one, we'll review the shots tomorrow."

The walk back to the 5-star suite felt like a victory parade as the team flanked me. Lucien on one side, stylists chattering on the other as we walked the bustling streets, the Eiffel Tower receding behind us. Some of the tourists around the area whispered my name, and I waved with a practiced smile.

I had gone from Zane's protected little sister and international billionaire model to being one of them. I couldn't wait to get back to LA, to show Zane how capable I was. I would handle the cartel orders with the same A-game I had brought to that shoot to prove I was invaluable.

My suite at the Ritz was a haven of opulence, the scent of fresh lilies filling the air from a vase on the marble table welcomed me into the room. The team waited outside the door while Lucien escorted me in, lingering for final notes.

"Get some rest, Ava," Lucien said at the door, his clipboard finally stowed. "You earned it. Please keep that aura for tomorrow's edits."

I smiled, hugging the stylist's goodbye, their perfumes mingling in a floral cloud. "Thanks, everyone. Paris wouldn't be the same without you."

Once the door clicked shut, and silence enveloped me, I kicked off my heels, the cool tile soothing my aching feet, and padded to the balcony. I pulled out my phone, sinking into the velvet armchair, and FaceTime Damian.

The ringtone echoed softly, my heart quickening at the thought of his voice. He answered on the third ring, his face filling the screen. His dark hair tousled as if he had been running his hands through it. But something was off about the worry etched lines around his mouth, his brows furrowed in a way that made me realize he was up to something.

"Damian?" I leaned closer to the screen, the balcony breeze ruffling my hair. "You look like merde. What's wrong?"

He exhaled, rubbing his jaw, the stubble rasping against his palm. "Hey, beautiful. Good shoot?"

I smiled, trying to lighten the mood, twirling a strand of hair. "Amazing. The Eiffel Tower and it's magic. Lucien said my aura was electric. I felt on top of the world." I paused, tilting my head. "But you... talk to me. What's got you worried?"

He hesitated, glancing off-screen as if checking for listeners, then leaned in. "It's Noah. He quit Atlas. For good. Said he's done, and Zane's got us tailing him. He's at that journalist's hideout...Harper West. The one who tried to expose us. Zane thinks he's spilling everything. The crimes, the façade...all of it."

My elation faltered instantly, and a cold trickle seeped in. Noah quitting? As I am just joining? The team falling apart before I could even prove my value? I shifted in the chair, the velvet suddenly itching against my skin.

"Spilling? Like what? The investments as covers? The hits?"

What secrets was Noah sharing? I needed to know. "Tell me more. Is it bad?"

Damian nodded, his expression darkening. "Bad enough. Noah's been Zane's right hand for hacks. If he's talking, it's the whole operation. Zane's furious. Sent me to follow him. He's at her place now, probably confessing it all."

I leaned forward, "If Noah's spilling, does it tie in?"

He sighed, glancing away again. "Ava, Noah's off. He's gone rogue. For her."

The Brotherhood was crumbling as I stepped in. I couldn't let that happen. I had mapped out a way to keep the brothers from tearing each other apart. "We can't let this split us. I'm just joining; I want to help. Tell me about your day. Maybe it'll distract you."

He smiled faintly, the worry easing a fraction. "Rough. Tailing Noah, dealing with Zane's rage. But you, tell me about Paris. That aura Lucien mentioned? I can see it even through the screen."

I laughed softly, the sound lighter than I felt, leaning back to show the view. "The shoot was incredible. Can't wait to get back,"

His eyes softened, warmth creeping in. "I know you will. Can't wait to see you. Miss that fire up close."

"Me too."

We talked longer, our conversation flowing despite the undercurrent of tension. I listened to his talks, flirting with him, but in my mind, I was planning to talk to Zane and mediate with Noah. I had to save the Brotherhood...for Atlas's sake.