Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NOVA
Sunlight streams through my bedroom window, breaking me out of my sleep. I groan as I roll over in bed, my eyes squinting against the harsh sun. It's been two weeks since I got fired from QuantumLeap, and I'm still not used to waking up without the urgency of a looming deadline.
The apartment feels emptier somehow, devoid of the frantic energy that used to propel me out the door each morning. I stretch, my fingers brushing against the pile of rejection emails from job applications I've half-heartedly sent out.
I’ve spent these last two weeks crying, lost, adrift in a sea of uncertainty. The weight of my mistakes presses down on me, a constant reminder of what I've lost—not just my job, but Liam too. I sigh, forcing myself to sit up. Another day, another chance to piece my life back together.
I glance around at the mess—empty coffee mugs stacked precariously on the desk, a heap of colorful scarves draped over a chair, and my trusty notebook lying open with scribbles from late-night brainstorms. It all feels so... temporary. Like a snapshot of my life in disarray. But amidst the clutter, something shifts inside me. I can’t keep running from this.
Liam’s intense blue eyes flash in my mind, their usual steely resolve softened by moments we shared—late nights at QuantumLeap, quiet conversations that stripped away our defenses, and that one kiss that turned my world upside down. I’ve made so many mistakes. Going undercover felt like the right choice back then—a way to prove myself, to break a big story. But now? Now it feels like betrayal.
I close my eyes and let out a sigh. "Dammit, Nova," I mutter to myself. "You really screwed this up."
My heart pounds as I think about Liam—his brilliance, his loneliness, his guarded heart that I managed to sneak into despite everything. He deserves better than this tangled web of deceit.
A surge of determination mixed with regret washes over me. Love and integrity—those are what should guide me now, not fear or ambition. My mother’s voice echoes in my mind, reminding me of the values she instilled in me despite our struggles: honesty, resilience, and fighting for what’s right.
I stand up abruptly, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through my veins. "I won’t let fear control me. I love him, and I’ll make this right.”
My fingers tremble as I reach for my notebook and pen—my constant companions in this journey—and jot down a plan. Expose Sam’s, clear Liam’s name, and fight for our relationship. It’s simple on paper but will be hell to execute.
As I scribble furiously, scenes from the past few months play in my mind: Sam's manipulative grin when he sent me on this mission, Liam's rare smiles that made my heart skip a beat, and those moments when our worlds collided in ways neither of us expected.
My phone buzzes on the cluttered desk—a reminder that time waits for no one. Ignoring it for now, I focus on organizing my thoughts and actions into concrete steps:
Gather evidence against Sam.
Confront him with undeniable proof.
Clear Liam’s name publicly.
Win back Liam’s trust.
I chuckle bitterly at the last point—it sounds like a romantic comedy plotline—but there’s nothing funny about this mess I've created.
I decide to work from my home desk today. Liam fired me, but I haven’t told Sam yet. Sliding into my chair, I glance around my eclectic home office setup, feeling a mix of determination and anxiety.
The colorful furnishings and mementos from past investigations surround me, grounding me in the chaos. I take a deep breath, ready to dive into the mess I've created and find a way out.
I boot up my laptop and remotely connect to my workstation at the magazine, ready to dig deeper. My eyes scan over scattered notes, files, and recordings—evidence of the life-consuming quest I've embarked upon.
With trembling fingers, I pull up an encrypted folder on my laptop. The password feels heavy as I type it in, each keystroke a step closer to the truth. The folder opens, revealing a series of emails Sam never intended anyone to see. My heart races as I recognize familiar names and patterns, piecing together a narrative that's both damning and undeniable.
"Holy shit," I whisper, leaning back in my chair. The pieces are finally coming together.
I flip through my notebook, filled with late-night scribbles and desperate attempts to connect seemingly disparate dots. A date circled in red ink catches my eye—it matches one of Sam's emails perfectly.
I play a recording from an interview with a former QuantumLeap employee. Their voice crackles through my speakers, confirming suspicions I didn't even know I had back then. "Damn you, Sam," I mutter, jotting down key points.
The more I uncover, the clearer it becomes: Sam orchestrated this entire mess to take Liam down. And now, I have the proof. But with evidence comes risk. If Sam discovers what I'm doing before I can expose him...
A shiver runs down my spine. I glance at Liam's photo on my desk, his intense blue eyes grounding me in why this matters. "For Liam," I murmur.
I compile everything into one cohesive file: emails, interview transcripts, financial records. But there's still one crucial piece missing—the direct link between Sam and the sabotage plan for RealityPlus.
My eyes land on a file titled “Project Zenith.” Opening it reveals a series of transactions between TechVibes accounts and a shell company linked to known cybercriminals—TechNova included.
Bingo.
The thrill of discovery surges through me like electricity. This is it—the smoking gun that will bring Sam down and clear Liam’s name once and for all. But it also means putting myself directly in harm’s way if Sam catches wind before I can go public.
I save everything onto multiple flash drives for safety and tuck them into hidden pockets in my bag. Each drive feels like a lifeline—a small piece of hope in this tangled web of deceit.
As I gather everything together, a wave of emotions crashes over me: fear for what might happen if this goes wrong; hope that justice will prevail; determination to see this through no matter what; and love—pure, unadulterated love for Liam that fuels every step forward.
“I won’t let fear control me,” I say aloud for good measure, as if speaking it into existence will make it so.
With everything packed away securely, I stand up from my desk and stretch out the tension knotting up in my shoulders. The apartment is silent except for distant city sounds filtering through closed windows—the quiet before the storm.
I take one last look around at the chaos and smile despite myself. This space reflects who I've been: driven by ambition but now guided by something much more profound.
For Liam—for us—I’ll make this right.
My phone buzzes again with reminders pinging about meetings and deadlines—irrelevant now compared to what lies ahead—but one message stands out: “Sam wants an update.”
“Not today,” I whisper before turning off notifications entirely.
I slip on my favorite boots—ones that have carried me through countless adventures—and head toward the door with renewed resolve coursing through every fiber of my being.
This isn’t just about breaking another big story anymore—it’s about love, truth, integrity, everything worth fighting for wrapped into one monumental task ahead...
I walk into Café Virtue, my nerves . The café's soft jazz music and the comforting aroma of fresh coffee create a stark contrast to the tension knotting in my stomach. Sam sits at a corner table, his back to the wall, eyes scanning the room with calculated calm. He sees me and his lips curl into a smug smile, but I catch the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
I cross the room with purpose, each step solidifying my resolve. As I reach the table, I pull out the chair opposite him and sit down, laying my bag on the floor. The evidence feels heavy in my bag—proof of Sam’s deceit, of his betrayal.
"Nice to see you, Nova," Sam starts, his tone oily. "You look... determined."
"This ends now, Sam," I say, my voice steady. I pull out a folder and place it on the table between us.
He leans forward, curiosity piqued. "What’s this?"
"Proof," I reply, meeting his gaze head-on. "Proof that you've been orchestrating everything from behind the scenes. Proof that you’re the real saboteur."
Sam’s smirk wavers for a moment before he recovers. He opens the folder, his eyes skimming over the documents inside. His fingers twitch slightly—a sign of his growing unease.
"You think these papers will bring me down?" he asks, looking up with a sneer. "You think you can take me on?"
"I know I can," I say firmly. "This isn’t just about taking you down. This is about justice—for Liam and for everyone you’ve manipulated."
Sam's eyes narrow, his demeanor shifting from amused to threatening in an instant. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Nova. You have no idea what you’re up against."
"I’m not afraid of you anymore," I counter, feeling a surge of empowerment. "Your threats don’t scare me."
He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as if trying to intimidate me with his presence alone. "You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But guts won't save you when everything comes crashing down."
"I’ve got more than guts," I reply coolly. "I’ve got evidence—and integrity."
His eyes darken as he realizes how serious I am. The power dynamic shifts between us, and he knows it too.
"Why are you doing this?" he asks quietly after a long pause.
"For Liam," I answer without hesitation. "And for myself."
He snorts derisively but says nothing more.
I take a deep breath and continue, my voice unwavering. "You didn’t care about justice or uncovering a story. You did it all for the payout—to sabotage RealityPlus and line your pockets with dirty money. But it's over now."
Sam’s face twists with anger as he stands up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process. The café patrons turn their heads towards us, curious but cautious.
"You’ll regret this," he hisses through gritted teeth.
"No," I respond calmly while standing up as well. "You will."
With that final exchange hanging in the air like smoke after an explosion, I gather my things and walk out of Café Virtue without looking back.
The sunlight hits my face as soon as I step outside—the warmth grounding me after such an intense confrontation inside those walls filled with lies and deceit.
I pull out my phone and dial Liam’s number; it rings twice before going straight to voicemail—a familiar pattern that makes my heart ache.
I press send on a message instead.
NOVA
We need to talk urgently.
Knowing that Liam won't respond to me, I decide to reach out to Vitoria. She always listens to reason, and I need someone on my side right now. I scroll through my contacts, find her number, and take a deep breath before hitting call. I memorized all C-level contacts as an assistant, including Vitoria’s. The phone rings, and I hope she picks up, knowing that if anyone can help me navigate this mess, it's Vitoria.