Veil of Deception

Beneath the Surface

The rain outside had intensified, pounding against the windows of The Meridian like a relentless reminder of the storm brewing inside. Isabella's pulse echoed the rhythm of the rain, her mind spinning in a chaotic whirl of thoughts. Dominic Hale was standing too close, his hand still wrapped around her wrist, his presence unsettling in ways she didn't want to admit. His words hung between them like a loaded gun.

"You're going to need my help."

Isabella hated the way her instincts warred with logic. Trusting people wasn't in her nature—especially not men like Dominic. But there was something in his eyes, something more than the practiced calm of a man used to control situations. There was urgency, a sharp edge she couldn't ignore.

She wrenched her arm free, glaring at him. "What's your angle, Dominic? You don't do anything without a reason. Why the sudden interest in saving my life?"

His lips curved into a barely-there smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Maybe I don't like seeing people die for nothing."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "People like me die all the time, and it's never for nothing. What makes this different?"

Dominic's gaze darkened, something unreadable flickering in his expression before it was gone. He glanced toward the exit where Clara had been dragged moments before, then back to her. "I'm not your enemy, Isabella. But if you go after Clara now, without knowing what you're walking into, you'll be dead before morning."

"Then tell me what I'm walking into," she shot back, her voice low but filled with challenge.

Dominic's jaw tightened. He hesitated, as if weighing his options, then spoke in a voice so quiet she had to lean in to hear him. "ExoraCorp isn't just a pharmaceutical company. It's a front for something much bigger—something darker. They've been funding underground research, experiments that cross every line of morality you can think of. And Clara... Clara knew too much."

Isabella's heart raced, her mind trying to catch up. This wasn't news—she had suspected ExoraCorp was involved in illegal activities for months. But Dominic's presence, the way he spoke about it, told her there was more. Far more.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "You represent these people. You protect them."

Dominic's eyes flashed with something she couldn't quite place—guilt? Anger? He stepped closer, his voice dropping even lower. "I protect the law. That doesn't mean I agree with what these people do behind closed doors. I'm telling you this because if Clara has resurfaced, it's because they've let her. And that means they're not done with her yet."

Isabella felt a chill run down her spine. She thought about the photograph—the one that had led her here—and how it had appeared out of nowhere. She had assumed it was a lead from one of her sources, but now... it felt more like bait.

"They wanted me to find her," she murmured, realization dawning.

Dominic nodded. "Exactly. And now that you're involved, they'll come for you, too."

Isabella's mind raced, the pieces falling into place. If ExoraCorp was using Clara as bait, it meant they were monitoring her every move. The thought of being one step behind them, of playing right into their hands, sent a surge of anger through her. She needed to stay ahead—needed to know what Dominic knew.

"What aren't you telling me?" she demanded. "You're involved in this more than you're letting on. Why are you really here?"

For the first time since their encounter, Dominic hesitated. His eyes darted away for a fraction of a second, and Isabella knew she had hit a nerve. When he spoke again, his voice was clipped, controlled.