C13 The First Close Call

The next day began like any other in the Kingsley Group office—slick floors, muted conversations, the faint hum of air conditioning. But Lia felt different. She moved through the hallways with cautious confidence, fully aware that every glance, every whisper could carry meaning in this world.

Her tasks were more complicated now: sorting confidential contracts, cross-referencing client files, preparing briefings. Each task carried weight. Each mistake could cost her credibility—or worse.

She had finished a long spreadsheet when her phone buzzed in her bag. Unknown number.

“They know. Be careful.”

Her stomach twisted. They? Who?

She looked around the office. Everything seemed normal. People typed quietly, shuffled papers, walked past without glancing at her. Yet the words left a shiver crawling down her spine.

Hours later, while delivering a stack of confidential contracts to another department, she felt a presence behind her. Quick steps. The faint scent of expensive cologne.

“Lia Kingsley.”

She froze.

The voice was smooth, controlled—but dangerous. She turned slowly, expecting a colleague.

Instead, a man in a tailored suit stepped out of the shadows. His dark eyes fixed on her with a piercing intensity.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

Her mind raced. Who is this? Did Sebastian send him? Or… are they here to stop me?

Before she could respond, he reached for the papers in her hands. “Give them to me.”

“Excuse me?” Lia’s voice was steady, though her heart pounded.

“You heard me. Now.”

Her instincts kicked in. Years of surviving as a stray had trained her to act quickly. She ducked to the side, papers clutched to her chest, and ran. Her shoes clicked against the polished floors as adrenaline surged through her veins.

Alarmed whispers echoed behind her. Colleagues looked around, confused. The man pursued, faster than she expected.

“Stop!” he barked.

Lia’s mind raced. She remembered the delivery routes, the service stairs. She darted toward them, slipping into a narrow hallway few employees used.

Her lungs burned, her legs ached—but the instinct to survive propelled her forward.

Finally, she reached a small janitor’s closet. She slipped inside, holding her breath as the door closed behind her. The man’s footsteps slowed, then stopped. She pressed herself against the wall, heart pounding, listening.

Minutes passed. Silence.

She exhaled slowly, realizing she had survived the first real threat in this elite world. But her hands shook, and a small tremor ran through her legs.

They know who I am.

Her mind raced with possibilities: rivals within the Kingsley Group, enemies from the past, someone connected to the mystery of her missing family.

She reached for her phone. Unknown number.

“Good. You survived. But you cannot hide forever.”

Lia’s breath caught. Her eyes filled with determination. I’ve survived worse than this. I will survive again.

She straightened her back, clutching the papers to her chest. For the first time, she understood the stakes: her identity was no longer just a mystery—it was dangerous.

And she couldn’t afford to stay invisible anymore.