2. Lena
Lena
I keep my head down and my pace steady. Three different routes.
Two double-backs. I cross the street without looking back.
Same random walking pattern every time, just in case someone’s on my tail.
I’m pretty sure Anton’s been tracking me these past few months, and I’m trying to shake off anyone who might be following me.
Today, Valerie asked me to come quickly and to make sure no one sees us meeting.
The building from the address finally comes into view.
Glass and brick, tucked away in Haven Point, a quiet residential pocket untouched by the industrial grime of the port city.
Law firms, Accountants. Therapists. Neutral ground.
I slip inside, fix my coat, and scan the quiet lobby. Upstairs, Valerie waits in a borrowed office, lent by a lawyer who provides pro bono help to women from Rise House, the shelter she’s run for years. She’s by the window with a cup of tea. We’ve met here before. It’s safe.
She looks up and smiles, warm, but a little tired. Valerie’s just over fifty, delicate in appearance, with silver streaks threading dark curls and sharp eyes that miss nothing. She’s the kind of woman who’s learned how to survive in a world that doesn’t make things easy. Just like me.
She sets the cup down and stands to greet me.
“Hey,” she says softly, pulling me into a quick hug.
“Hey.” I hold on for a second longer, then pull back.
She gestures toward the chair. “Tea? It’s still warm.”
“I’m good, thanks.” I sit, finally letting my shoulders drop.
Valerie never rushes. She prefers to meet away from Rise House, keeps things cleaner, safer, and under the radar. Especially now. She picks up her cup again, then sets it down slowly with a sigh.
“My worst nightmare is coming true. Rise House is about to attract the exact kind of attention I’ve spent years avoiding.
The whole neighborhood’s being pushed to sell, and most already have.
They’re putting pressure on me now. Everyone’s wondering what’s going on in my house and why I won’t leave. ”
“Is this Anton’s doing?”
“It could be. City Hall’s clearly involved.
They’re dressing it up as an ‘urban renewal plan’, saying some investor group won the bid.
But nothing’s really being modernized, they’re just tearing down a historic district to slap up overpriced condos and a high-end shopping plaza.
All because this side of town isn’t as polluted by the port industry. ”
“Can they force you out?”
“Not legally. But the longer I hold out, the more they’ll dig. They’ll start watching everything, every move, every visitor. It won’t be safe to bring in new women, especially the ones running for their lives.”
“You need another location. Somewhere safe. Let me give it some thought. How much time do we have?”
“Not much. I’ve already started searching.”
“Don’t worry. Worst case, you can use my grandmother’s house.”
“You mean your house. And where would you live? No, Grace wouldn’t have wanted that.”
My grandmother was one of Valerie’s fiercest supporters.
After retiring from ballet, she got directly involved with the shelter.
Valerie told me how many of the women who stayed there, even briefly, loved Grace the ballerina.
They loved her stories about chasing dreams with courage and grit.
Some had kids. Most were escaping abuse.
To them, my grandmother wasn’t just a dancer; she was hope.
She gave them something to believe in. She lifted their spirits, kept them going, and helped with money whenever she could.
Valerie’s rule is to keep the women only a short time, just a few weeks, until she can find them space in shelters in other cities. She has a network. They rescue women, move them city to city, and help them vanish and start new lives.
“Valerie, if this is Anton’s doing, and let’s be honest, it probably is, he won’t stop until he shuts you down. Whatever it takes. The women who trust you need protection. My grandmother would’ve helped in a heartbeat. You know that.”
I clench my jaw, that old burn of fury pressing behind my teeth. I know exactly why Anton wants the shelter gone. It’s not just about power, it’s about silencing women who dare to speak up. Who dares to resist. He’s been doing it for years. He tried it with me, too.
Not every woman stayed silent. But most didn’t stand a chance. His usual tactic was to push for settlements, small payouts to buy their silence. And when money didn’t work, he used threats, promising to completely ruin their lives if they ever spoke a word.
I was too young. Too scared the first time we met. But even then, I made him pay. But now? Now I’ll destroy him, so that no woman ever has to be afraid of him again.
“Bastard.” The word slips out like a hiss.
Valerie nods. Then she looks at me, her voice sharper, more urgent.
“There’s more. Another victim came to us. She used to work for Anton. She’s terrified. Says she’s being followed, harassed. She refused the payoff.”
My pulse spikes.
“And?”
“She wants out of the city. She’s panicked. Same pattern, manipulation, harassment, intimidation. She refused the hush money and suffered the consequences.”
She pauses. “But she found something. Something that could destroy him.”
Valerie hesitates, then leans in, her voice dropping.
“She saved everything on a USB stick—documents, messages, proof of what he did. She worked in accounting at City Hall. Anton caught her digging through files and fired her on the spot. Security dragged her out, so she didn’t get a chance to grab the USB.”
I draw a slow breath, trying to steady the rush in my chest. “Tell me she hid it."
Valerie nods. “She did. Pure instinct. She had seconds before they came for her, just enough time to slip it into a stapler and glue it shut. It was a last-ditch move. Lucky for us.”
She pauses, just long enough for the weight of it to land. “But we need to get to it before someone else does. We’ve only got a few days.”
I let the words settle. This could be the piece we’ve been missing.
“Is she willing to go that far? To testify, even after everything he’s done to her?”
Her statement alone could be enough to force a police investigation. Maybe even blow this wide open.
“She’s terrified,” Valerie says. “She said she’ll only talk if we get the USB. And if she does... there might be others.”
My hands curl into fists in my lap.
Fired. Hauled out like a criminal. Followed. Harassed. And she still refused to take his blood money. That takes guts.
A slow, burning anger climbs through my chest.
“Did she say what’s on the drive?”
“A little. Anton’s been siphoning money from the city’s social funds, funneling it into businesses owned by his friends through fake contracts.”
“That bastard never stops.”
Valerie reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
“Lena, I can’t tell you how much your help means. Your grandmother, Grace, was the heart of Rise House. When she was here, she made sure every woman who walked through that door felt seen. Safe. She fought for them with everything she had. And now… you’re doing the same.”
I swallow hard. The lump in my throat won’t budge.
Grace Medina, the city’s beloved ballerina, who owned the stage with delicate elegance, fought in real life with brutal, unshakable determination.
She was fearless in a way I’m still chasing.
She left this fight to me, believing I’d be strong enough to finish it.
“I just want to do what’s right.”
“And you are,” Valerie says, her voice thick with emotion. “But you need to be careful. You know that.”
Anton knows I’m coming for him. He’s known for a while. The way his people watch me. The way doors slam shut just as I’m about to walk through them. It’s a warning. But I’m done being afraid. Valerie sighs, her gaze softening almost maternal.
“Grace believed in you, Lena. And so do I.”
I made a promise to myself, to these women, to my grandmother, who fought for them long before I ever did.
And I won’t back down now. I’ve stayed with Valerie longer than I meant to.
A soft knock at the door and the lawyer’s assistant gently reminding us they need to close up.
Valerie leaves first. I wait a beat, then pull my cap low and slip out, heading fast toward the bus stop.
I don’t take my car when I don’t want to be followed. Anton knows it. A bus roars past just as I reach the stop.
Damn it!
I keep walking. I need the air to clear my head. The news about Anton’s victim burns in my chest, but that woman’s courage gives me hope. If I can get my hands on that USB, hidden in that damn stapler, everything could change.
Yeah, it’s risky. But I’ve done crazy shit before.
I know people inside City Hall—security guards, clerks. Enough to create a distraction. Anton would never expect me to walk straight through the front doors, bold as hell. And that’s exactly why it might work.
I need a plan. Doing this alone isn’t easy.
Lexi’s just starting to get her life back.
There’s no way I’m dumping this on her. Gabriel’s friends, the Protectors, could help.
But not with something this close to illegal.
And Valerie’s shelter? It needs to stay off the radar.
Bringing more people in means more questions.
And right now, I can’t afford questions. This is on me.
Anton doesn’t get to silence another woman. Not this time. I’m closer than I’ve ever been. And I’m done waiting.
A light rain starts to fall. It’s getting dark, and the cold slips under my coat like a warning.
. I should probably call a taxi. I stop to open the app, my fingers clumsy from the damp and cold.
Around me, the streets are thinning out, just shadows rushing past under umbrellas whipped and flipped by the wind.