Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
NOVA
I stand in front of the mirror, my hands shaking as I apply mascara. Liam's face flashes in my mind, his piercing eyes and gentle smile a reminder of what's at stake. For us, I think to myself, drawing strength from our love.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. The cool air fills my lungs, grounding me in the moment. I reach for my favorite blouse—a deep emerald green that brings out my eyes. I feel more like I’m donning armor for battle with each button done.
My fingers brush against the delicate silver necklace Liam gave me. The metal is cool against my skin, a tangible link to him. I close my eyes, remembering the warmth of his hands as he fastened it around my neck. The memory sends shivers down my spine.
“You've got this, Nova,” I mutter, meeting my own gaze in the mirror. My reflection stares back, a mix of determination and fear in my eyes. I smooth down my hair, the familiar scent of my shampoo wafting up. It's comforting, a small piece of normalcy in the chaos of what's to come.
I slip on my boots, the leather creaking slightly. Each step toward the door feels heavy, weighted with the importance of what I'm about to do. My bag sits by the door, packed with everything I need for the operation. I double-check its contents—recorder, backup phone, documents. All there.
My hand hesitates on the doorknob. For a moment, doubt creeps in. Am I ready for this? Can I really face Sam and Hendrix? But then I think of Liam, of the trust we've built, of the future we could have. My resolve hardens.
"Time to end this," I say to the empty apartment, my voice unwavering. I open the door, stepping out into the hallway. The click of the lock behind me sounds final, like the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another.
As I walk toward the elevator, my steps grow more confident. I'm Nova Addison, and I'm about to blow this whole thing wide open.
I settle into a corner booth at Café Virtue, my fingers drumming an anxious rhythm on the worn wooden table. The familiar scent of freshly ground coffee beans wafts through the air, but it does little to calm my nerves. I've chosen this spot carefully—a perfect vantage point to watch the entrance without being easily spotted.
"Your usual, Nova?" the barista calls out, sliding a steaming mug across the counter.
I force a smile. "Thanks, Jake. You're a lifesaver."
As I cradle the warm ceramic between my palms, my eyes dart to the sugar packets. I start arranging them in neat rows, then triangles, then back to rows. It's a mindless task, but it keeps my hands busy and my mind from spiraling.
A text from Liam lights up my phone screen.
Liam: You've got this, Nova. I believe in you!
My heart swells, a mix of love and guilt washing over me. I type back quickly.
Nova: I love you. See you soon.
The café bustles around me, the hum of conversation and clinking cups a stark contrast to the tension coiled in my chest. A couple at the next table laughs, reminding me of lazy Sunday mornings with Liam, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he teased me over croissant crumbs.
I shake my head, refocusing. This isn't the time for daydreams. I scan the room, noting potential exits and the best angles for the hidden camera in my bag. The trap is set. Now, I just need the prey to arrive.
I drum my fingers on the table, eyes darting between my phone and the café entrance. Every chime of the door sends my heart racing, only to plummet when it's not Sam. The coffee in front of me has gone cold, untouched.
“Come on, Sam,” I mutter under my breath. “Don't chicken out now.”
A text from Detective Martinez lights up my screen.
Det. Martinez: All units in position. Remember the signal.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. The weight of the evidence file in my bag feels like it's burning a hole through the leather. I glance around the café, spotting the undercover officers scattered among the other patrons. Their presence is both reassuring and nerve-wracking.
"More coffee, Nova?" the barista calls out.
I shake my head. "I'm good, thanks."
The minutes crawl by like hours. I fidget with my necklace, running the delicate chain through my fingers. What if Sam doesn't show? What if this whole plan falls apart?
No. I can't think like that. I've come too far to back down now.
A businessman in a crisp suit enters, and for a heart-stopping moment, I think it's Sam. But no, just another tech bro getting his caffeine fix. My heart rate slowly returns to normal as I let out a shaky breath. I can't keep jumping at every suit that walks through the door.
I pull out my notebook, scribbling nonsense just to keep my hands busy. The café's ambient chatter fades into white noise as I run through the confrontation in my head for the hundredth time. What will I say? How will he react? My pen moves faster, creating illegible loops and swirls across the page. The confrontation looms larger with each passing minute, a ticking time bomb of revelations and consequences.
The bell above the door chimes. My breath catches as Sam and Hendrix stroll in, cocky grins plastered on their faces. They spot me and saunter over, oozing unearned confidence.
"Well, well, Nova," Sam drawls, sliding into the booth. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"
I force a smile. "Oh, you know, just thought we should catch up."
Hendrix snorts. "Cut the crap. What's this really about?"
My hand trembles slightly as I reach for my bag. I take a deep breath, steeling myself. It's now or never.
"Actually," I say, pulling out the file, "I think it's time we had an honest conversation."
Sam's eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
I lay the file on the table, pushing it toward them. "It means I know everything. The sabotage, the lies, all of it."
Hendrix scoffs. "You're bluffing."
"Am I?" I open the file, revealing printouts of emails, financial records, and surveillance photos. "I have proof of your communications, the money trail, even recordings of your little chats about bringing down Liam Novak."
Sam's face pales, then flushes with anger. "You stupid bitch. Do you have any idea what you're doing?"
"Exposing the truth," I snap back. "Isn't that what journalism is all about?"
Sam lunges across the table, grabbing for the file. I yank it back, heart pounding. "I wouldn't if I were you," I warn. "This whole conversation is being recorded."
Hendrix glances around nervously. "Sam, maybe we should?—"
"Shut up!" Sam snarls. He turns back to me, eyes blazing. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Playing both sides, cozying up to Novak. You're nothing but a naive little?—"
"Choose your next words carefully," I interrupt, my voice steel. "Because right now, you have two choices. You can confess, or I can take this to the police. Your call."
Sam's laugh is bitter. "You really think you can threaten me? I'll bury you, Nova. By the time I'm done, you'll never work in journalism again."
I lean forward, meeting his gaze. "Too late. The police already have copies of everything."
As if on cue, Detective Martinez approaches our table. "Samuel Draper, Xavier Hendrix, you're under arrest for corporate espionage and attempted sabotage."
The color drains from their faces as reality sinks in. Hendrix starts babbling, trying to bargain, while Sam glares at me with pure hatred.
"You'll regret this," he hisses as the officers cuff him.
I watch as they're led away, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest. Relief, triumph, and a hint of fear for what comes next.
My phone buzzes. A text from Liam.
Liam: Is it done?
I type back with shaky fingers: It's over.
Nova: They're in custody.
His response is immediate.
Liam: I’m on my way. You did it, Nova. I'm so proud of you.
Tears prick my eyes as the adrenaline starts to fade. It's really over. We won.
I step into Liam's kitchen, my hands trembling slightly as I reach for the kettle. The familiar routine of making tea feels like a lifeline after the chaos of the day. I fill the kettle, the sound of rushing water echoing in the quiet space.
"You okay?" Liam's voice is soft behind me.
I turn, offering a small smile. "Just . . . processing."
He nods, leaning against the doorframe. His presence steadies me, a constant in the whirlwind of the past few hours.
The kettle whistles, startling me. I pour the steaming water over the tea bags, watching as the color seeps out. The aromatic steam rises, filling the air with a comforting scent.
"It's really over, isn't it?" I murmur, more to myself than to Liam.
"Thanks to you," he says, moving closer. His hand rests on the small of my back, warm and reassuring.
I lean into his touch, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of everything. "God, Liam. I can't believe we pulled it off."
He chuckles softly. "I can. You're a force of nature, Nova."
I turn to face him, searching his eyes. "How can you still look at me like that? After everything?"
Liam cups my face gently. "Because I see you, Nova. The real you."
My breath catches. In this moment, in his kitchen with the scent of tea surrounding us, I realize something profound. The fear and guilt that have been my constant companions are gone. In their place is something new, something hopeful.
"Liam," I start, my voice barely above a whisper. "I think . . . I think I'm home."
His eyes widen slightly, understanding the weight of my words. "Nova?—"
I cut him off, needing to get this out. "Not just here in your kitchen. But with you. You're my home now."
Liam pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me tightly. I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent.
"What happens now?" I ask, my voice muffled against his shirt.
He pulls back slightly, meeting my gaze. "Now? We face whatever comes next. Together."
I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. "Together. I like the sound of that."
Liam's answering smile is radiant. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Me too, Nova. Me too."
We stand there in the kitchen, holding each other as the tea grows cold on the counter. For the first time in a long time, I feel truly at peace. Whatever the future holds, I know we'll face it side by side.