On the day of the Asian investment project launch, Morgan Group headquarters was under tighter security than usual. Security personnel carefully checked credentials at every entrance while the technical team repeatedly tested the equipment in the venue.

“Nervous?” Sophie whispered. Today she was attending as Ethan’s fiancée, dressed in an elegant champagne-colored gown.


“A little,” I admitted, scanning the hall for any sign of William and Thompson.

“Don’t worry, everything’s going according to plan.” She handed me what looked like an ordinary USB earpiece. “This is our communication device. We can stay in touch. Ethan will make sure William and Thompson remain at the event for at least twenty minutes.”

I nodded, putting on the earpiece while pretending to adjust the conference equipment. Just then, a familiar voice from behind sent a chill down my spine.


“Ms. Reed.”

I turned to see Thompson standing behind me, his expression serious. Today he wore a dark gray suit with an impeccably knotted tie.


“Good morning, sir,” I maintained my composure.

“I didn’t expect you to attend the launch,” his tone carried suspicion. “I thought you would continue your… investigative work.”

“I thought this would be a good opportunity to understand Morgan Group’s core business,” I said with a smile. “After all, the Asian investment project is the company’s focus.”

Thompson stared at me for several seconds, then nodded, a barely perceptible cold smile on his lips. “A wise choice. William Morgan values this project highly. He won’t tolerate any interference.”

The warning in his words couldn’t have been clearer.

After he left, I took a deep breath and contacted Sophie through the earpiece: “Thompson is watching me.”

“As expected,” she responded calmly. “Stick to the plan. Ethan is ready.”

Just then, I saw Ethan approaching from a distance, impeccably dressed in his suit, his manner elegant. When his gaze met mine, he gave a slight nod, his eyes conveying silent support and concern. In that moment, I felt a strange sense of reassurance—whatever happened, I wasn’t facing it alone.

—

The server room was more spacious than I had imagined, with rows of equipment neatly arranged, their indicator lights blinking. Following Ethan’s instructions, I found the main terminal and inserted the specially prepared USB drive.

“I’m in,” I reported softly to Sophie. “Starting the data download.”

“Good,” she responded. “The launch event has just started. William is giving his speech. Ethan will try to buy you as much time as possible.”

I quickly operated the terminal, searching for files related to the Phoenix algorithm. After several attempts, I finally found an encrypted folder named “Project P.” My heart raced as my fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“Password required,” I told Sophie.

“Try ‘Reed1989’,” she suggested.

I entered the password, and the screen flickered before displaying “Access Granted.” My heart nearly stopped—this password was my parents’ research team name combined with the year they began their research. William Morgan hadn’t just stolen their work; he’d used their name as a password. The irony was almost nauseating.

Following the plan, I began copying all the contents to the USB drive. The progress bar on the screen moved slowly, each second feeling like an hour. My fingers tapped lightly on the desk as my heartbeat quickened with the progress bar’s movement.

“Download started, it’ll take about five minutes,” I reported, my voice trembling slightly from tension.

“Stay alert,” Sophie responded, her voice suddenly tense. “Thompson just left the venue.”

My heart raced. What did Thompson’s departure from the venue mean? Had he discovered something?

When the download was halfway complete, I noticed a subfolder named “Reed_Accident.” That name pierced my heart like a sword. Following my instinct, or perhaps guided by fate, I clicked on it, my heart pounding.

Inside were a series of files about my parents’ car accident, including photographs, police reports, insurance claim documents, and… a document titled “Cleanup Plan.” I opened it and saw the shocking contents:

“The Reeds refuse to transfer the complete version of the algorithm. Action must be taken to secure the technology. Thompson will handle the subsequent cleanup. The accident must appear genuine.”

At the bottom of the document was William Morgan’s electronic signature.

I felt dizzy and nauseated, my stomach tightening, my throat constricting. This was the evidence, concrete evidence proving William Morgan had orchestrated my parents’ deaths, and Thompson had helped cover up the truth. My fingers trembled, tears blurring my vision, but I forced myself to focus.

My parents’ smiling faces flashed in my mind—my mother’s gentle green eyes, my father’s determined smile, the way they waved goodbye in front of my college dormitory, the last time I saw them alive. An unprecedented wave of anger and grief washed over me.

“Olivia, are you okay?” Sophie’s voice came through the earpiece, full of concern. “Two more minutes until the download completes.”

Suddenly, an alarm sounded, and red lights began flashing.

“What’s happening?” I asked in panic, fingers gripping the mouse tightly, eyes fixed on the progress bar.

“Someone triggered the security protocol!” Sophie’s voice grew tense. “You’ve been discovered, Olivia! Evacuate immediately!”

I glanced at the progress bar—98%. It was almost complete. I gritted my teeth, deciding to take the risk. This evidence was about justice for my parents, about Leo’s safety. I couldn’t give up.

“Just a few more seconds,” I insisted, my heart pounding, each second feeling like an eternity.

“No! Leave now!” Sophie was almost shouting. “Thompson is heading your way!”

The progress bar finally showed 100%. I pulled out the USB drive and was about to leave when the server room door suddenly opened, harsh light flooding in. Thompson stood in the doorway, his expression grim, his eyes cold. He was no longer the boss I knew, but a dangerous stranger.

“I knew you’d come here,” he said coldly, his voice carrying a strange weariness and determination. “William said you were too smart to give up the investigation easily.”

He slowly walked into the room, each step making my heart beat faster. I backed away gradually, clutching the USB drive tightly in my hand, hiding it behind my back.

“Thompson, you don’t have to do this,” I tried to reason with him, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “I know how William controls you. We can expose the truth together.”

“Truth?” he scoffed. “The truth is your parents were too stubborn. They refused to cooperate, refused to understand the importance of the Phoenix algorithm. William gave them a chance, but they chose a dead end.”

“So you helped him murder them?” My voice trembled with anger.

My voice echoed in the server room, filled with years of pent-up pain and anger. Thompson’s expression flickered with uncertainty before quickly returning to indifference.

“It was an accident,” Thompson insisted, but his eyes wavered, unable to meet mine. “Just an accident.”

“I have evidence proving it wasn’t an accident,” I pointed to the computer screen. “William’s ‘Cleanup Plan,’ your involvement—it’s all documented.”

Thompson’s expression darkened, a flash of fear crossing his eyes. He moved toward me, his hand reaching toward his waist. I saw the outline of a gun. Fear shot through my entire body like an electric current.

He advanced toward me, and I could feel the danger approaching. Just then, a voice came from the doorway: “Enough, Thompson.”

I turned to see Ethan standing there, his expression stern and resolute, his eyes burning with an anger I’d never seen before. He wore the deep blue suit from the launch event, his tie loosened, his hair slightly disheveled, clearly having rushed here.

“This doesn’t concern you, Ethan.” Thompson didn’t back down, but his hand stopped at his waist, not drawing the weapon. “These are your father’s orders.”

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Ethan said firmly, stepping forward.

Thompson hesitated, his eyes scanning between us, then he gave a cold laugh. “You don’t understand, do you? Your father doesn’t just want to stop the investigation. He knows Leo is your son. He’s already sent people to get him.”

My heart instantly plunged into an icy pit, a chill spreading from my spine throughout my body. Leo—my child, my everything—was in danger.

“What?” My voice was hoarse with fear, my fingers clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms.

“William believes Leo is Morgan blood and should be raised by the family,” Thompson continued. “And you, Olivia, have become an obstacle.”

My phone suddenly vibrated with a text from Sophie: “Alert! Someone is trying to enter the villa. Security system activated, but they’re well-equipped. Leo is safe, but we need backup.”

“You look worried, Olivia,” Thompson noticed my expression. “Did you receive news about your son?”

Ethan’s expression turned dangerously cold, his blue eyes burning with icy fury. He advanced toward Thompson, each step full of menace, his shoulders tense like a predator ready to attack.

“If my father dares harm Leo, he will pay the price,” his voice was low and cold, carrying a threat I’d never heard before.

“You would betray your own father? For her?” Thompson looked at Ethan in disbelief.

“For justice,” Ethan said firmly. “For my son.”

Thompson seemed shocked by these words, his expression subtly changing.

“You don’t understand, Ethan,” his voice suddenly lowered. “This isn’t just about the company. Your father holds leverage over each of us. I have no choice.”

“Fear only makes us prisoners of others, Thompson,” Ethan’s voice was deep and resolute. “My father controls people by holding their secrets. Eight years ago, you chose to compromise, a decision that made you an accomplice to murder, a manipulated pawn. Today, you have a chance to choose again.”

Thompson’s eyes flickered with conflict as he stepped back, seemingly reassessing the situation. “Your father won’t let anyone go. He’s planned everything.”

“Including kidnapping my son?” Ethan’s tone was icy, though his demeanor remained steady. “Tell me his plan, Thompson. There’s still time to make amends.”

Cold sweat beaded on Thompson’s forehead, his eyes darting between us and the computer screen. Suddenly, he lunged toward the computer terminal, attempting to delete the damning evidence.

“No!” I shouted, rushing forward to stop him.

In the chaos, Thompson tripped over cables, losing his balance and crashing into the server rack. He instinctively reached out to steady himself, pulling on an improperly secured server. The heavy metal equipment slid from above, striking him directly on the head.

When everything quieted, Thompson lay on the floor, his head bleeding, unconscious. I stood there, shocked at the scene, feeling nauseated and dizzy.

“Is he… is he still alive?” I asked shakily, my voice barely audible.

Ethan quickly crouched down to check Thompson’s pulse. “He’s alive, but needs immediate medical attention.” He called emergency services, calmly reporting the situation, then turned to me. “We must go save Leo immediately. Thompson’s reaction confirms my father indeed has plans for Leo.”

I nodded, clutching the USB drive containing the evidence. Thompson’s injury complicated matters further, but Leo’s safety was now the priority.

We rushed toward the elevator with only one thought: we had to reach Leo before William’s men did. My child was in danger, all because I had tried to expose the truth.