Beneath the Surface

The next morning, Emma sat in her apartment, her laptop open but forgotten as her mind raced through the events of the previous night. Lucas' warning replayed in her head like a looped recording.

Victor Devereaux isn't just powerful—he's ruthless.

A part of her wanted to heed his advice, to step back and reassess. But the journalist in her knew that this was the moment to push harder. The stakes were higher than ever, and the story was reaching critical mass. The more the Devereaux empire squirmed, the more she was convinced she was onto something that could bring them down.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a text from Lauren.

Lauren: Meeting with legal at 2 PM. Bring everything you have.

Emma frowned. Lauren rarely involved the legal team unless there was serious concern about liability or threats. She glanced at the clock—it was only 10 AM. That gave her a few hours to gather her notes and prepare.

First, she needed coffee. And a plan.

By noon, Emma was seated at a small café near the office, her laptop and notebooks spread across the table. The noise of clinking cups and murmured conversations faded as she immersed herself in her research. She had to figure out the connection between Henry Lawson, Victor Devereaux, and the evictions at Willow Heights.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard, cross-referencing the documents Nate had given her with property records and court filings. Patterns began to emerge—shell companies tied to Lawson, payments routed through offshore accounts, and suspiciously timed legal filings. It all pointed to a coordinated effort to force out the residents of Willow Heights and clear the way for a luxury development.

As Emma dug deeper, she noticed another name cropping up: Marissa O'Connell. A former city planner who had suddenly resigned six months ago, shortly before the first wave of evictions began. Emma's gut told her that Marissa might be a missing piece in the puzzle.

She made a quick call to Nate.

"Harper," Nate answered, his voice distracted.

"It's me," Emma said. "I need a favor. Can you dig up anything you can find on Marissa O'Connell? She was a city planner who quit around the time the Willow Heights mess started."

"Give me a couple hours," Nate replied. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Nate. I owe you one."

"You owe me a dozen by now," he said with a chuckle before hanging up.

At 2 PM sharp, Emma walked into the conference room at the Chronicle office. Lauren was already there, along with two members of the legal team, Paula and Mark. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Let's get started," Lauren said, gesturing for Emma to sit. "We've reviewed some of what you've sent over, and there are concerns."

"Concerns?" Emma echoed, her heart sinking.

Paula leaned forward, her expression serious. "The Devereauxs have a history of aggressively pursuing legal action against journalists. If we're going to publish anything, we need rock-solid evidence."

Emma nodded. "I understand. I've been cross-referencing documents and tracing financial transactions. There's a clear pattern of fraud and coercion tied to Victor Devereaux and Henry Lawson."

Mark interjected. "That's good, but we need more. Eyewitness accounts, whistleblowers, anything that can't be dismissed as circumstantial."

Emma hesitated. "There might be someone. Marissa O'Connell, a former city planner, could have information. I'm working on tracking her down."

Lauren's eyes narrowed. "If you can find her and get her to talk, it could make all the difference. But Emma, this is dangerous territory. The Devereauxs won't hesitate to retaliate."

"I know," Emma said quietly. "But this story needs to be told."

That evening, Emma returned to her apartment, exhausted but determined. Her phone buzzed with a new message from Nate.

Nate: Found something on O'Connell. She's been laying low in Brooklyn. Address attached.

Emma stared at the screen, a mix of relief and apprehension washing over her. She had her next lead, but approaching Marissa would require caution. If the former planner was in hiding, there was a reason.

Emma packed her bag, slipping in her recorder and a notepad. She glanced at the anonymous warning still saved on her phone. The closer she got to the truth, the sharper the edges of the world around her became.

But she couldn't turn back now. The surface had cracked, and Emma was determined to uncover what lay beneath.