Three days after Finn's death, the anonymous files hit the internet.
Every dirty secret. Every cut corner. Every bribed official.
Safety reports Eleanor had falsified. Emails ordering the early demolition. Even bank transfers—payments to city inspectors to look the other way.
The evidence was undeniable.
And Isabelle's name was nowhere on it.
——
She found Avery at Finn's grave.
Rain sheeted down, turning the fresh dirt to mud. He didn't look up as she approached, just kept staring at the makeshift headstone—Finn Lawson. Beloved Brother, Gone Too Soon.
"I didn't send those files," she said.
Avery's shoulders tensed. "I know."
"Then why—?"
"Because I wanted to blame you." His voice was raw. "It was easier than admitting I failed him."
Isabelle stepped closer, rain mixing with the tears on her cheeks. "We both did."
Avery finally looked at her. The anger was gone, replaced by something worse—guilt. "I shouldn't have said what I did. Not to you."
She reached for his hand. He let her take it.
The wind howled through the cemetery, whipping Isabelle's hair across her face. She didn't brush it away.
"Then why did you—"
"Because I wanted to hate you!" Avery stood to his feet, mud falling off his jeans. "Because if I blamed you, I didn't have to blame myself for not watching his back. For not being fast enough."
A clap of thunder rattled the trees. Isabelle flinched, but held her ground.
"You think I don't feel that too?" She pressed a hand to her sternum, where Finn's blood had dried into the fabric of her shirt three days ago. "Every time I close my eyes, I see him smiling. Worth it, he says. Like dying for this was some kind of joke"
Avery's hands found her shoulders, rough and urgent. "Don't." His thumbs brushed her collarbones, the first gentle touch since the riot. "Don't do that. Don't take his choice away." Avery spoke with tears rolling down his cheeks.
He rested his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "For what I said. For leaving. For—"
She kissed him. Salt and rain and grief. When they broke apart, Avery's eyes were as dark as the storm clouds.
---
Robert Abel sat in his office, watching his empire crumble on live TV.
"Breaking news: Sources confirm Eleanor Abel authorized illegal demolition permits under Mayor Donovan's administration. More damning, newly uncovered documents reveal"
The screen cut to a photo. Eleanor. Mayor Donovan. A hotel room.
Robert's stomach turned.
His secretary burst in. "Sir, the Jacksonville contracts—they're all pulling out. The unions too."
Robert didn't answer. He was too busy staring at the date on the photo.
Two days before the mayor approved Abel Development's tax breaks.
---
Eleanor's heels clicked across marble as she stormed into their penthouse. "Robert, we need to—"
He didn't let her finish. Just threw the photo at her feet.
"Did you sleep with him to get the deal?"
Eleanor's silence was answer enough.
Robert laughed—a hollow, broken sound. "All these years, I thought I built this company." He picked up his coat. "Turns out, you whored it into the ground."
The door slammed behind him.
---
Isabelle's phone buzzed. An unknown number.
Meet me. 8 PM. The old pier.
She went, because some part of her still hoped.
Her father stood at the end of the dock, staring at the water. "I'm dissolving the board," he said without turning. "The company's yours if you want it."
Isabelle froze. "Why?"
"Because you were right." His voice cracked. "And I'm tired of losing."
"What about mom?" She muttered.
"I wish you had a better choice of a mother. All this while I left the Jacksonville deal in her hands, thinking it was a clean deal. But she manipulated us all into forcing these people to leave their homes with no where to go." Staring at the river, reflecting the stars.
"I have lost too much I don't want to loose you too."
Isabelle's breath fogged in the cold air as she faced her father. The river churned black below them.
"Take the company," Robert said, voice raw. "But know this - the board will fight you. The investors will flee. And your mother..." He finally met her eyes. "She won't go quietly."