Nathan froze, his mouth hanging open. "Why should we go after Amy? Let her enjoy her fifteen minutes of fame—what does it matter to us?"

Alexander looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Nathan, do you honestly think covering your face makes you unrecognizable?"

"That audio in the video is pristine. Even if no one sees your face, anyone who’s ever spoken to you—hell, even a cashier at your favorite coffee shop—would recognize your voice instantly."

Nathan bolted upright. "Video? What video?"

"Amy leaked security footage."

Nathan blinked, stunned. "What?"

All he’d seen were the headlines about Amy’s studio being vandalized, along with a few photos. He hadn’t bothered to look deeper.

So what if she was asking for information? There was no way she could’ve found anything useful—he’d made sure those cameras were destroyed.

Alexander’s voice was glacial. "Security footage."

Nathan blurted out, "That’s impossible. I smashed those cameras weeks ago."

The moment the words left his mouth, realization hit him.

"Look, Alex, Victoria’s studio was trashed too. I was just defending her, that’s all..."

Suddenly, guilt twisted in his gut. Amy was still Alexander’s ex-wife, and Liam’s mother. He knew better than to test Alexander’s patience.

Alexander was silent for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Amy has indoor footage. Your face isn’t visible, but your voice is unmistakable. I’ve managed to suppress the video—for now. But with how viral she’s been lately, it won’t stay buried long. This is the last time I clean up your mess. Handle it."

He hung up before Nathan could respond.

That night, despite Alexander’s efforts, the video leaked.

Nathan had been so confident, certain his disguise would fool everyone. But within two hours of the video surfacing, the internet had dissected every detail about him.

Someone recognized his Rolex. Others matched his designer sneakers and jacket. A few eagle-eyed sleuths even identified the signet ring on his finger.

It didn’t stop there—his belt buckle was matched to old paparazzi shots. Internet detectives scoured his social media for comparisons, and an anonymous tipster leaked screenshots from his private vacation albums.

Within hours, Nathan had nowhere left to hide.

For the first time, real fear clawed at him.

Samantha scrolled through the trending news, her eyes widening. "No way! How did they ID Nathan so fast? These people are terrifying!"

Amy, flipping through a stack of sheet music, paused at Samantha’s outburst.

"They’re thorough, I’ll give them that. Once they had a lead, it was only a matter of time before they found him—but I didn’t expect it to be this quick."

Samantha, ever the sharp agent, caught on immediately. She shot Amy an impressed grin. "Celeste, did you hire a PR team? That’s brilliant."

Amy smirked. "Just returning the favor."

"Damn right they deserved it!" Samantha nodded fiercely. "So, what’s next? What do you want me to do?"

Amy met her gaze, a slow smile forming. "Next? I think it’s time we take that new car for a spin."

Meanwhile, Alexander’s office phone rang incessantly.

He ignored it, standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at the city skyline.

A dull ache settled in his chest—one he hadn’t felt in years.

A soft knock sounded at the door. His assistant, Isabella, stepped in. "Mr. Blackwood, someone’s here to see—"

He cut her off, his voice icy. "Didn’t I say no visitors today?"