Nathan drove away from the warehouse with the sound of Natasha’s screams still ringing in his ears. He didn’t feel bad for her. He felt nothing but a cold, hard mission. The moon was high and the streets of the city were empty, but Nathan’s mind was racing. He had two names burned into his brain: Dr. Gabe and Marcus. These were the men who had helped Natasha bury Fiona while she was still breathing.

He pulled over to the side of the road and picked up his phone. He called his lead security man. "I want Marcus found first," Nathan said. "He’s the hacker. He’s the one who monitored the hotel. He’s a coward, so he’ll be hiding. Find him before he hears about Natasha."

"We’re on it, sir," the voice replied.

Nathan didn’t go back to the villa. He couldn’t stand the silence of that big, empty house. Instead, he drove to a private office he kept in the city. He sat in the dark, staring at the wall, waiting for the call. Two hours later, his phone vibrated.

"We have him. He was trying to board a bus to the next state. We have him at a safe house near the docks."

Nathan was there in fifteen minutes. The safe house was a small, dirty apartment with one light and a smell of old grease. Marcus was sitting on a wooden chair, his hands shaking so much he could barely hold his head up. He was young, maybe twenty-five, with messy hair and glasses that were sliding down his nose. When Nathan walked in, Marcus almost fell off the chair.

"I... I was just doing a job!" Marcus stammered. "She paid me! I didn’t know it was for a kidnapping!"

Nathan didn’t say anything. He walked over and sat on the edge of the table, looking down at the hacker. "The drive, Marcus. Give it to me."

"It’s right there! On the desk!" Marcus pointed at a small black hard drive. "Everything is on it. Every email Natasha sent me, every hack I did on the hotel, every photo. Just please don’t let your men hit me again."

Nathan picked up the drive and plugged it into a clean laptop he had brought with him. He started clicking through the files. He saw the logs of how Marcus had bypassed the security at the hotel where Viktoria and Mateo were staying. He saw the threats Natasha had dictated. But then, he found a hidden folder. It was encrypted with a high-level password.

Nathan looked at Marcus. "Open it."

Marcus leaned over, his fingers trembling as he typed in the code. "She told me to keep this separate. She said if I ever showed anyone, she’d have me killed."

"That’s if I don’t kill you first."

The folder opened, and Nathan’s heart stopped.

There were photos in that folder. They weren’t of Fiona. They were photos of a different woman. She looked a lot like Fiona, but her eyes were a different color and her jaw was slightly wider. These were photos of the real Viktoria—the Russian woman who had actually died almost three years ago.

Nathan scrolled through the images. He saw a medical report from a hospital in a small Russian village. The real Viktoria had died of a sudden car accident also. There were photos of her body in a morgue. Then, he saw the messages between Natasha and a contact in Russia.

The plan was all there. Natasha’s contact had found a girl who was already dead and looked enough like Fiona to pass a quick glance. They had stolen the real Viktoria’s body to put in Fiona’s grave in America. And they had taken the unconscious Fiona—drugged and memory-wiped—and handed her over to Nikolai and Viktoria family making them believe she had "miraculously" survived death.

Nathan realized the truth. Nikolai was a grieving husband who thought his wife had come back from the dead. He was a victim of Natasha’s lies just as much as Nathan was. Nikolai had been raising his son with a woman he thought was his wife, never knowing that the real Viktoria was buried thousands of miles away in a grave marked Fiona Brown.

"She’s a replacement," Nathan whispered, his voice cracking. He felt a strange mix of anger and pity. He hated Nikolai for having her, but he realized Nikolai was living a lie he didn’t even choose.

"Is there more?" Nathan asked, his voice low.

"There’s a video," Marcus said, clicking a file.

The video showed the man in scrubs—the one from the morgue—talking to Natasha over a video call. "The swap is done," the man said in the video. "The serum is strong. She won’t remember a thing. Just make sure the money is in the account by tomorrow."

Nathan closed the laptop. He had it. He had the proof that would shatter Nikolai’s world. He had the evidence that would prove Fiona was his. But he knew he couldn’t just call Nikolai and tell him. Nikolai wouldn’t believe a voice on the phone. He would think it was another trick.

Nathan stood up and looked at his men. "Keep Marcus here. If he tries to leave, kill him. I need him alive for now to testify if I need him."

He walked out into the cool night air. The sun was starting to come up, painting the sky a bruised purple. Nathan knew what he had to do. He had to go to Russia. But he couldn’t go as Nathan Keith. Nikolai’s guards were everywhere. If they saw his name on a flight manifest, they would alert Nikolai, and Fiona would be moved again before he could get close.

He drove back to his office and called Alex.

"Alex, I need a new identity. Now," Nathan said as soon as his assistant picked up. "I’m going to Moscow. But I’m not going me. I’m going as an investor."

"An investor, sir?"

"Nikolai deals in luxury real estate and art. He likes money. I want to be Christopher Vane, a billionaire from London looking to buy into the Russian market. I want a passport, a bank history, and a full team. I want Nikolai to want my money so much that he invites me into his home."

"It will take forty-eight hours to get the documents perfect, sir."

"You have twenty-four," Nathan said. "And Alex? Find out where Nikolai’s estate is. I want a floor plan. I want to know where the nursery is, and I want to know which room they’ve put her in."

For the next day, Nathan didn’t eat. He didn’t sleep. He spent every second preparing. He dyed his hair a darker brown and started wearing gold-rimmed glasses that changed the shape of his face. He studied the files Marcus had given him until he knew every lie Natasha had told.

Nathan knew that his face was a weapon, and right now, it was one that would get him killed, he couldn’t just wear a hat and hope for the best.

He called Alex. "Find me the best cinematic makeup artist in the country. Someone who doesn’t talk and likes money."

Two hours later, a woman named Elena arrived at Nathan’s private office. She didn’t ask questions. she just opened a heavy black case filled with tools that looked like they belonged in a surgery room.