Silence filled the room. The interviewer blinked. The crew behind the cameras exchanged confused glances. Jace's words,we're in danger, hung in the air, too sharp, too real.

River didn't wait for an explanation.

He reached across Jace's body, pulling the mic wire from his collar and muttering, "We're done here."

Sasha's voice shrieked in the earpiece. "Do not walk out, this is live! You'll make headlines!"

River shot Jace a look. "Do you care about headlines or your life?"

Jace stood, unhooked his mic, and followed him.

The studio exploded the moment they left the set. Sasha came storming after them, heels clacking against the tile floor.

"Jace, what the hell was that?" she snapped. "You just told the entire world you're being threatened! That wasn't part of the plan..."

"Plans change," Jace said quietly, still holding his phone.

River snatched it from him and scrolled through the message again. His jaw tightened.

"Where's the file?" he asked.

"In my inbox. Still downloading."

Sasha stepped in front of them, blocking the hallway. "Look, if someone's threatening you, fine. But you can't just drop it on live TV. We're in the middle of controlling the narrative, and you just told the public you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Jace said, stepping around her. "I'm angry."

River followed him out to the car. They slid into the backseat, and before the door even closed, Jace opened the email.

The download was complete. He tapped the file.

It opened to grainy security footage. A hallway. A time-stamp from five years ago. The night his father died.

River leaned closer, watching.

Jace recognized the building, his father's private office. But the angles were odd. Almost like someone had planted the camera in secret.

Then suddenly noises could be heard. A soft argument behind the door.

Two voices. One was his father. The other....

Jace's blood turned cold. He knew that voice.

River looked at him. "Who is that?"

Jace didn't answer.

On-screen, the office door opened. A man stepped out, face blurred. The feed ended seconds later.

River grabbed Jace's wrist. "Who was that?"

Jace slowly looked up.

"Vincent Crane."

River blinked. "Crane? The board member?"

"My father's right hand. He's the one pushing to remove me."

River swore under his breath. "You're telling me the guy trying to steal your company was the last person seen with your father alive?"

Jace nodded slowly. "And this file was sent to me now. After five years, someone wants me to know. But not why."

River leaned back, his mind racing. "We need to talk to whoever sent it."

"There was no name. Just the message: You should've stayed quiet."

Sasha got into the front passenger seat, breathless. "I'm guessing damage control isn't your top priority anymore."

"No," Jace said. "Now we play offense."

They drove back in tense silence. Jace stared at his reflection in the window. His stomach twisted with something he couldn't quite name. Fear? Betrayal? Rage?

All he knew was that this wasn't a scandal anymore. It was personal and deadly and somehow, Vincent Crane was in the middle of it.

Back at the penthouse, Sasha started pacing.

"We need it legal. Discreet legal," she muttered. "We can't leak that file without verifying it."

Jace sat on the couch, elbows on his knees. "I want proof. Real proof."

River stood near the window, scanning the street below like he expected snipers. "We need to tighten security. Lock down your schedule and no unplanned stops."

Jace glanced up at him. "You staying close?"

River's voice was hard. "Closer than ever."

They didn't speak much after that.

Sasha left to call a contact at the NYPD who owed her a favor. Jace retreated to his office. River followed but didn't speak. He just leaned against the wall, watching. He was always watching.

It should've annoyed Jace.

It didn't.

Maybe because for the first time in years, someone was in the room with him and not asking for anything. No deals, no handshakes, no expectations. Just presence.

That night, Jace didn't go to his room.

He stood on the balcony in a hoodie and sweatpants, staring down at the glittering city below. It was quiet up here. Too quiet.

River joined him eventually, holding two mugs of tea.

"I figured whiskey's not the move tonight," he said.

Jace accepted the tea but didn't drink.

River leaned beside him, arms crossed. "You looked like you were going to pass out in that studio."

"I wasn't."

"You were pale. Breathing too fast."

Jace didn't respond.

River turned toward him. "You don't have to be a statue all the time."

Jace gave a bitter smile. "Statues don't break."

"No," River said. "But they crack and they fall and when they do, everyone watches."

Jace stared at him. "Why do you care?"

"Because I've seen people break from silence," River said, voice lower now. "And you remind me too much of who I used to be."

The air between them shifted.

Jace looked at him longer this time.

"You think I'm going to break?"

River shook his head. "No. I think someone's trying to break you."

Jace swallowed.

And then, for the first time since the threats began, he asked softly:

"What happens if they succeed?"

River didn't look away. His answer came sharp and fast.

"Then I'll burn down whoever's left standing."

The next morning was colder than usual.Not outside, inside. Inside Jace's chest, inside his thoughts.

He didn't sleep. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his father's blurred figure on that screen. Every time he blinked, he heard Crane's voice. Calm and smooth. Just like it had always been.

But now Jace knew.

Something had happened that night. Something he wasn't supposed to find and someone was warning him to stop digging.

But he couldn't stop. He wouldn't, not when it seemed everything was coming to light.

When River walked into the kitchen, Jace was already dressed and staring blankly at the untouched coffee pot.

"You okay?" River asked.

Jace didn't answer right away. Then, softly, "I used to trust that man. Crane. He taught me how to present at board meetings. How to read contracts. How to handle power without blinking."

River poured coffee. "And now?"

Jace met his eyes. "Now I think he murdered my father."

The silence stretched between them.

River pushed a mug across the counter. "Then we take him down."

Jace nodded once. "I need access to all the old company footage. Every floor, every file. Anything that connects to Crane."

"I'll help you dig," River said. "But first... we talk about you."

Jace froze. "What?"

"You didn't sleep. You haven't eaten. You're unraveling."

"I'm fine," Jace said automatically.

River stepped closer. "No, you're functioning. That's not the same thing."

Jace swallowed hard. "I can't fall apart."

"Then lean."

Jace looked at him sharply.

River's voice was softer now. "If you won't break, then lean on something or on someone. You're not alone in this."

It took everything Jace had not to react.

Because the truth? Those words hit too deep. Too hard. He didn't want to need anyone. But part of him already did.

They spent the day working from the penthouse. River reviewed the security feeds Sasha delivered. Jace combed through old internal emails, board notes, archived reports. Most of it was sanitized and claned.

But something felt wrong.

A pattern in the way things disappeared. Certain time stamps were always missing. Certain emails always forwarded to the same account, Crane's private server.

At exactly 3:17 p.m., Jace froze mid-click.

River noticed. "What is it?"

Jace pointed. "That name. 'Marlin.' It's in the transfer log three times."

"So?"

"It was my father's codename for private contacts. He told me never to trust anyone who used it without his permission."

River leaned closer. "You think someone's impersonating him?"

"I think someone knew the codename after my father died and I think they've been accessing files using his backdoor keys for five years."

River's jaw tightened. "We need to find out who."

Jace nodded.

But before they could dig deeper, Sasha walked in, her face pale, holding a tablet.

"You both need to see this," she said. "Now."

She dropped the tablet on the counter. A news site was open. The headline was still fresh:

BREAKING: "Anonymous Source Alleges Jace Maddox's Father Was Murdered By Board Member"

River cursed under his breath. Jace's face went blank.

"Who leaked it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Sasha said. "But the media's eating it alive. They're dragging Crane. The board is panicking."

Jace's fingers tightened around the counter edge. "It wasn't us. We didn't leak anything."

"Then someone's moving ahead of us," River said.

Sasha pointed to the byline. "It was published by a freelance reporter, Noah Lang."

Jace's eyes narrowed. "He used to write about my father. Tech exposés. He vanished right after the funeral."

River grabbed his keys. "We find him."

"I'll trace his last known address," Sasha said.

They moved fast. Within the hour, River had Jace in the back seat of a secured car, Sasha feeding him directions, tension rising with every street they passed.

The building was old, tucked between warehouses on the edge of Brooklyn. It was abandoned and quiet.

River scanned the area, gun hidden under his coat, then nodded for Jace to follow him up.

They climbed the narrow stairs. The hallway smelled like dust and mildew.

Apartment 6C.

River knocked. There was no answer.

He knocked again,louder this time.

Then a voice from inside, rough and scared. "Go away!"

Jace stepped forward. "Noah, it's Jace Maddox. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to talk."

Silence.

Then locks clicked. Slowly.

The door cracked open.

A man with hollow eyes and an unshaved jaw peeked out. "You shouldn't be here."

Jace kept his voice calm. "You leaked the story. Why?"

Noah hesitated. Then opened the door fully.

"I didn't leak it," he said. "I sent it as a warning."

Jace blinked. "To who?"

"To you," Noah said. "Because you're next."

River stepped forward. "Start talking."

Noah backed up, rubbing his face. "I've been hiding for years. Your father trusted me. He gave me files. A list of people he thought were watching him. But before he could release it, he died."

"What was on the list?" Jace asked.

Noah turned to him, eyes full of fear.

"A name. One name."

"Crane?"

Noah shook his head.

River stiffened. "Then who?"

Noah whispered:

"Dominic Hale."

River went still.

Jace looked between them. "Who's that?"

River's face had gone blank. Too blank.

He didn't answer.

Jace stepped closer. "River?"

River's jaw clenched. His voice was low.

"He's my father."

River didn't speak after the name dropped from Noah's mouth.

He just stood there. Frozen and completely still. Except for the slight twitch of his jaw.

Jace could feel the shift in the room. Like someone had knocked the air out of it, out of them.

Noah didn't dare move.

Jace's eyes stayed on River. "River... did you hear him?"

River blinked, slow. Then he turned his head slightly, his voice quiet, too quiet.

"I heard him."

And that was all.

He walked out of the apartment without a word.

Jace followed him down the creaking stairwell. Neither of them said anything until they were outside.

The wind was cooler now. The streets were almost empty. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. A car honked two blocks away.

Still, River said nothing.

He didn't look at Jace. Didn't get in the car. Just stood there under a flickering streetlamp with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets like he was holding something inside, something heavy and wild and breaking.

Jace waited.

Then softly, "River..."

River's voice was hoarse when it finally came.

"He left when I was sixteen. Heaid he was going on a mission. My mom didn't ask questions. She never did and then he never came back."

Jace stood beside him, not too close. Just near enough that River could feel someone was there.

"I thought he was dead," River said. "For a long time or hiding. I told myself it didn't matter."

"But it did," Jace said quietly.

River let out a breath that sounded like it hurt. "It did. I joined the military after him. Stupid, right? I told myself I wasn't doing it because of him. But I was. I wanted to prove I was better, stronger and different."

Jace turned to look at him. "And then your unit got burned."

River gave a tight nod. "And now I find out... it might've been his fault. That he was working with Crane. That he...."

He broke off.

Jace saw him look down at the pavement, like he was trying to glue himself back together.

"You don't have to talk about this now," Jace said softly. "We can just stand here. If that's what you need."

River laughed, but there was no humor in it. "What I need is a time machine."

Jace smiled faintly. "If I had one, I'd use it first."

River finally looked at him then. Really looked.

There was something in his eyes, raw, wounded, but open. A part of him that had been locked up for years... cracking.

"I thought I buried this," he said. "The anger, the questions. The dreams that made me wake up with blood on my tongue."

Jace stepped a little closer. "You didn't bury it. You carried it."

River looked down at his hands. "Yeah. I guess I did."

The ride back to the penthouse was quiet.

Jace didn't speak. River stared out the window like he was searching for something, maybe the past, maybe a version of himself that never had to know this truth.

When they got upstairs, Sasha wasn't home.

The silence in the penthouse felt different now. Not cold. Not empty.

Just... quiet.

Jace poured water and handed a glass to River. They sat on the couch in the semi-dark, the city's lights glowing behind the windows like distant stars.

River didn't drink. He just held the glass between his palms and stared at the floor.

Jace finally broke the silence.

"What kind of man was he?"

River blinked. "My father?"

Jace nodded.

River thought about it for a long time. "He was quiet. Sharp. I never saw him cry, not even when my sister died. He used to take me out to the range. Showed me how to shoot before I learned how to shave."

Jace didn't interrupt.

River continued, voice slower now. "He had this... cold calm. Like nothing could touch him. When he left, I thought maybe he was running from something. But now..."

Jace leaned forward. "Now you think he was hiding something."

River's jaw clenched. "Yeah."

Jace exhaled. "You know, I always imagined my father as a giant. Untouchable, but now I realize he was just a man and maybe a scared one."

River looked at him. "Do you ever wish you asked him more questions?"

"All the time."

They sat like that for a while.

Not speaking. Just... sitting. Sharing the same silence.

At one point, Jace leaned back on the couch, letting his head rest against the cushion. He was tired,not just in his body, but in his soul.

River remained still.

Eventually, Jace asked, "Do you think he knew?"

River looked over.

"My dad," Jace clarified. "Do you think he knew someone would come after him?"

River nodded once. "Yeah. I think he knew. I think that's why he left the file with Noah. Why he left a trail. He was trying to protect something."

"Maybe me," Jace whispered.

River didn't answer. But his eyes said it all.

The room was darker now.Jace leaned against the window, the glass cold under his hand.

Outside, the city pulsed with lights, unaware of the storm tightening around him.

River stood a few feet away, his arms crossed, eyes on the skyline. But Jace could tell he wasn't really seeing it. He was somewhere else, somewhere deeper and darker.

They'd been quiet for a while now.

Not because they didn't have anything to say, but because too much had already been said.

Some silences were heavy with understanding. This one was.

"I never wanted to know any of this," River said suddenly.

Jace looked over. "Then why did you stay?"

River didn't answer at first.

Then he turned to face Jace, voice low and honest. "Because you're not like them. The people I used to protect? They hid behind walls. Money. Power. You hide behind silence. But it's not the same. You're not trying to escape the world... you're trying to survive it."

Jace swallowed. Something tugged hard in his chest.

He didn't know what to say to that.

So he didn't say anything.

River stepped closer, close enough for Jace to hear his breathing.

Then, softly, "Whatever's coming... we'll face it. Together."

Jace looked at him. Really looked at him.

There was something terrifying and comforting in the promise of that sentence. Together.

He nodded once.

That was all he could give tonight.

River moved to the couch and sat, stretching out his legs with a quiet sigh. Jace stayed by the window a while longer, watching the way the city never stopped moving.

Eventually, he walked to his desk. Picked up the flash drive Noah had given him.

He didn't plug it in yet.

He just held it. Held it like it was the only thing tying the past to the present.

He turned it slowly in his fingers and whispered, to no one in particular:

"Why now?"

And from the couch, eyes half-closed, River replied quietly....

"Because someone wants you to see what they buried."