Chapter 494

Chapter 494:

The elevator doors closed, carrying them toward a night of painful revelations and difficult truths. But at least now, they would be fighting back with complete information instead of manufactured lies.

The question was whether the truth would be enough to save them all.

Alexander sat in his darkened penthouse office, the blue glow of multiple computer screens casting shadows across his face. Empty coffee cups and takeout containers littered his desk—evidence of days spent planning what he believed would be justice for his uncle’s death and the seventeen lives lost in that factory explosion.

His fingers moved across the keyboard, typing another encrypted message to the Guardian. The same secure communication system they’d used for months, bouncing signals through servers in twelve different countries to hide their conversations from anyone who might try to listen in.

Status update: Richard Lewis confronted me today. He showed false documents claiming my uncle was responsible for the factory deaths. I didn’t believe his lies. Ready to proceed with Phase Two as discussed.

Alexander hit send and leaned back in his chair, exhaustion weighing on him like a physical burden. His reflection in the black computer screen showed a man who’d aged years in the past few weeks. Stubble covered his jaw, dark circles ringed his eyes, and his expensive clothes hung loosely on a frame that had lost weight from stress and sleepless nights.

The response came back within minutes:

Excellent. Lewis family interference was expected. They will do anything to protect their reputation, even defend a killer. Your uncle would be proud of your dedication to justice. Meeting tonight as planned. Pier 47, midnight.

Alexander stared at the message, feeling the familiar mix of grief and determination that had driven him for months. Every time doubt crept into his mind, every moment when Camille’s face appeared in his thoughts and made him question his choices, the Guardian’s words reminded him of what was really at stake.

Seventeen families who’d never received justice. His uncle, who’d died believing the world had abandoned him to protect Victoria Kane’s crimes. The truth that needed to be exposed no matter the personal cost.

His phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:

Your wife is beautiful when she cries. You should see her at the hospital.

Alexander’s blood turned cold. Someone was watching Camille. Someone was threatening her.

He typed back frantically: Who is this? If you hurt her…

Relax. Just reminding you what happens to people who get in the way of justice. Your wife chose her side. Now she lives with the consequences.

Alexander stared at the phone, his hands shaking with a mix of rage and fear. The Guardian had promised that Camille wouldn’t be harmed, that their fight was only with Victoria Kane and those actively protecting her. But this message suggested something far more sinister.

He grabbed his laptop and tried to trace the phone number, but it led nowhere—a burner phone, probably already destroyed. Whoever had sent the message knew how to stay hidden.

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