Chapter 3 THREE

"Miss Rivers..." Gerald started, but Lennox was already standing.

"No." She grabbed her bag, backing toward the door. "Find someone else. Anyone else."

"There is no one else. Not in the timeframe we need." Gerald's voice followed her. "You have thirty days before prison, Lennox. Thirty days to come up with three hundred thousand dollars you don't have. Or you can marry a very wealthy, very handsome man, live in luxury for two years, and walk away set for life."

"I can't." Because marrying into the family she was actively investigating was beyond stupid. It was suicidal. If anyone found out she was Cipher, if anyone traced her hacking back...

But prison was worse. Prison meant no more investigating, no more exposing corrupt corporations, no more anything. Prison meant her life was over at twenty six.

"Think about it," Gerald said, and held out another business card. "You have my number. When you're ready to discuss terms, call me. But don't wait too long. Like I said, the clock is ticking."

Lennox took the card because her hands moved on autopilot. Then she walked out of the coffee shop into the cooling evening air and just stood there, trying to breathe.

Callum Westbrook.

She'd seen his picture a hundred times while researching Westbrook Industries. Seen him in Forbes articles and business magazines and society page photos from charity galas. Devastatingly handsome in that cold, untouchable way that really rich people always were. Dark hair, sharp jawline, eyes that looked like they'd never smiled at anything in their life. He always wore suits that probably cost more than her car, well, more than her old car before it died last year and she couldn't afford to replace it.

He looked like every billionaire stereotype: distant, calculating, probably insufferable to actually know. The kind of guy who thought money could solve everything, because for him it could.

And she was supposed to marry him.

Her phone rang again. This time she answered.

"Miss Rivers, this is Detective Chen. We've been trying to reach you..."

"I know." Lennox closed her eyes. "I'll come in tomorrow. I just need... I need tonight to figure some things out."

"Tomorrow at nine AM. Don't make us come looking for you."

"I won't. I'll be there."

She ended the call and started walking. Nowhere specific, just away. Away from the coffee shop, away from Gerald Morris and his impossible offers, away from decisions she wasn't ready to make.

The streets were crowded with the after work rush. Everyone looked like they belonged, like they had places to be and people waiting for them. Lennox felt like a ghost drifting through their world, already separate from normal life.

She pulled up her encrypted laptop backup on her phone. Her Cipher files, the investigation she'd been building for months. Westbrook Industries had billions in unexplained transactions, money moving through companies that existed on paper but had no actual business operations. Someone was embezzling on a massive scale, and she'd been so close to figuring out who.

The transfers always happened late at night, always through the same shell company network. She'd traced the pattern back eight months, watching millions disappear into offshore accounts that led nowhere. Whoever was doing this was smart, careful, and had deep access to Westbrook's internal systems.

Marrying Callum Westbrook would put her right inside the family. Give her access she'd never have otherwise. She could finish the investigation, expose whoever was stealing, and maybe, maybe, actually do some good in this nightmare.

Or she could get caught, go to prison for corporate espionage on top of embezzlement, and ruin what was left of her life even more thoroughly.

Lennox stopped at a street corner, watching the light change. Red to green, stop to go. Like life was giving her a sign or something equally stupid.

A woman bumped into her, muttered an apology, kept walking. Normal people with normal problems. Not facing prison or contract marriages or investigating billion dollar crimes.

She thought about her mom. About how disappointed she'd be if Lennox went to prison. About her little sister Emma who was supposed to start college next year, who looked up to Lennox like she had everything figured out. What would Emma think if her big sister became a criminal?

What would she think if she knew Lennox was considering marrying a stranger for money?

Both options felt like betrayals of different kinds.

Lennox pulled out Gerald Morris's card, stared at the embossed lettering until it blurred. The cardstock was thick, expensive. Everything about this situation screamed money, power, people who played by different rules.

She'd spent two years as Cipher, exposing corporations that thought they were untouchable. Companies that stole from employees, that cut corners on safety, that destroyed lives for profit. She'd always told herself she was doing something good, something that mattered.

Now she had a chance to get inside one of the biggest companies she'd ever investigated. To find proof, to expose whoever was stealing billions, to actually make a difference instead of just scratching the surface from the outside.

But the price was her freedom. Her honesty. Two years of lying to everyone she knew.

Somewhere in this city, Ryan was probably celebrating, thinking he'd gotten away with destroying her. Somewhere, Detective Chen was building a case that would send her to prison for something she didn't do. Somewhere, Callum Westbrook existed in his billionaire bubble, needing a wife like he needed a new watch or a faster car, just another acquisition.

And somewhere, buried in server logs and financial records, was the truth about what was really happening at Westbrook Industries.

Lennox pulled out her phone. Her finger hovered over the screen for what felt like forever.

Thirty days until prison.

Or one phone call that would change everything.

She started typing before she could talk herself out of it.

I need to know more about the terms. When can we meet?

The response came back in less than a minute.

Today. 5 PM. I'll send you the address. You're making the right choice, Miss Rivers.

Lennox didn't feel like she was making the right choice. She felt like she was jumping off a cliff and hoping she'd somehow learn to fly on the way down.

But prison was worse. Prison was definitely worse.

She hoped.