The warm glow of the sunset spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Thomas’s office, casting golden hues over the polished wood and sleek leather furniture. A bottle of champagne rested on the coffee table, flanked by four glasses, but no one had touched it yet.
Emma sat on the sofa, her legs curled beneath her, absently tracing her fingers along the rim of her glass. Beside her, Jack leaned back, his arm draped casually over the couch’s edge, a triumphant grin lighting up his face. Across from them, Marcus was perched on the armrest of a chair, scrolling through his phone, and Thomas stood near the window, his back to the group, gazing out at the sprawling Manhattan skyline.
“Well,” Marcus said, breaking the silence, “I think we’ve earned a toast.” He picked up the champagne bottle, expertly twisting off the cork with a soft pop.
Emma blinked, pulled from her thoughts, and offered a small smile as Marcus poured the bubbly liquid into their glasses.
“To victory,” Jack declared, lifting his glass high.
“To teamwork,” Marcus added with a smirk, clinking his glass against Jack’s.
Emma hesitated for a moment before raising hers.
“To finally have a chance to breathe again,” she said softly.
Thomas turned from the window and joined them, his expression thoughtful but tinged with satisfaction.
“To standing together when it mattered most,” he said, his voice low and steady.
The group clinked glasses, the sound sharp and clear in the quiet room. For a moment, they simply sat in silence, sipping the champagne and letting the weight of recent events begin to lift.
“I have to say,” Marcus began, setting his glass down on the table, “I wasn’t sure we’d pull it off. When Jack first showed us those files, I thought we were biting off more than we could chew.”
Jack grinned, his eyes still on his phone. “You doubted me? I’m offended, Murcus. Truly.”
Marcus chuckled. “It’s not you I doubted—it’s the fact that we were going up against the freaking Diaz family. Those two make movie villains look tame.”
“Not anymore,” Thomas said, his tone firm. “They’re gone. Out of New York, out of power. We made sure of it.”
Emma leaned forward, setting her glass of lemonade on the table.
“We did,” she agreed, though her voice was quieter. “But let’s not pretend this was easy. We were lucky in a lot of ways. If Marcus hadn’t uncovered the financial records, if Jack hadn’t convinced that whistleblower to talk, if Thomas hadn’t rallied his contacts…”
She shook her head. “There were so many moments where this could have gone wrong.”
“But it didn’t, Emma.” Marcus finally looked up, his expression softening. “Because we’re a damn good team. And because you—” He pointed at her. “—never gave up. Even when the odds were stacked against you.”
Thomas leaned against the back of his chair, watching Emma carefully.
“He’s right. You were the heart of this mission, Emma. Your determination kept us all moving forward.”
Emma felt a warmth spread through her chest, but it was tempered by a lingering unease. Luka’s parting words echoed in her mind:
“Our families share ties you can’t even imagine.”
She had brushed them off at the time, refusing to let Luka manipulate her, but now, in the quiet aftermath of their victory, the doubts crept in.
Jack noticed her hesitation. “What’s on your mind, Em?”
She hesitated, then sighed. “Luka. The things he said before he left… I can’t shake them. He made it sound like there’s more to this than we know—something deeper between the Barretts and the Diazes.”
Marcus frowned. “You think he was bluffing?”
“Maybe.” Emma shook her head. ”But Luka doesn’t just throw words around. If he said it, there’s a reason. I just don’t know what it is yet.”
Thomas crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful.
“We’ll figure it out. But for now, you need to let yourself enjoy this moment, Emma. You’ve fought harder than anyone to get here. Take a breath.”
She met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes steadying her.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “It’s just hard to let go of everything.”
Thomas smiled faintly. “That’s why we’re here—to remind you it’s okay to let go. At least for tonight.”
The group fell into a more relaxed rhythm after that, trading stories about their most nerve-wracking moments during the operation. Jack regaled them with exaggerated tales of sneaking past guards, while Marcus shared his near-misses with encrypted files.
“Honestly,” Thomas said, leaning back in his chair, “the best part of this whole thing was watching Luka’s face when Emma laid out the evidence. Priceless.”
Emma laughed, a genuine sound that felt strange after so much tension.
“I’ll admit, that was satisfying.”
Thomas’s smile widened as he watched her. “See? Victory suits you.”
She rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest lingered.
As the evening wore on, the conversation turned more reflective.
“Do you think they’ll actually stay gone?” Jack asked, his tone serious.
“They don’t have a choice,” Thomas replied. “With everything we’ve exposed, Luka and Elliana would be arrested the moment they set foot in New York again. Their best option is to stay in Latin America and rebuild whatever they can.”
“And even there, they’ll be looking over their shoulders.” Marcus nodded. “We’ve ensured they’re not untouchable anymore.”
Emma listened, her mind still restless. She believed Thomas and Marcus, but a part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t truly over. Luka’s veiled threat had been too deliberate, too calculated to ignore.
By the time the champagne bottle was empty and the city outside had settled into its quiet, luminous hush, the group began to disperse. Jack was the first to leave, clapping Marcus on the shoulder with a promise to regroup in the morning. Marcus followed soon after, muttering about needing to triple-check their encrypted backups “just in case.”
That left Emma and Thomas alone in the spacious office, the glow of the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The celebratory energy that had filled the room moments ago ebbed into something softer, heavier.
Thomas was tidying up absentmindedly when he glanced at Emma. She stood near the windows, her arms wrapped around herself, her expression contemplative as she gazed out at the cityscape.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently, setting down the empty glasses.
Emma turned her head slightly, offering him a small, tired smile.
“I think so. It’s just… strange. For the first time in weeks, I don’t feel like I’m running from something. But I can’t shake this… shadow. Like it’s all too good to be true.”
Thomas moved to stand beside her, the warmth of his presence settling her nerves.
“That’s normal, Emma. After everything you’ve been through, it’s hard to let your guard down. But you’ve earned this moment to breathe.”
She nodded but didn’t reply, her gaze still fixed on the distant horizon. For a while, they stood in companionable silence, the unspoken bond between them palpable.
Finally, Emma turned to face him, her expression soft but filled with a complexity of emotions she couldn’t entirely name.
“You’ve been my rock through all of this, Thomas. I don’t even know how to thank you properly.”
Thomas shook his head, his eyes meeting hers with quiet intensity.
“You don’t have to thank me, Emma. I’m just glad I could be here for you.”
For a heartbeat, their eyes locked, and the space between them seemed to shrink. The quiet vulnerability in Emma’s gaze was mirrored in Thomas’s, and the air grew heavier, charged with unspoken words.
Emma looked away first, breaking the spell with a nervous laugh.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. Probably fallen apart completely.”
Thomas tilted his head slightly, his voice low but firm.
“You wouldn’t have fallen apart. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“Am I?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” he said, stepping just a fraction closer. “You are. I’ve seen it every day, Emma. Your strength, your resilience—it’s extraordinary.”
Her heart raced at the sincerity in his voice, the way his words wrapped around her like a protective shield. She wanted to lean into him, to accept the comfort he offered so freely, but something held her back—a lingering fear, a ghost of uncertainty.
Thomas seemed to sense her hesitation, and he didn’t push. Instead, he reached out slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. His touch was light, hesitant, but it sent a jolt of warmth through her.
“Emma,” he began, his tone steady despite the storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes, “you’re not alone in this. You never have to be.”
Her throat tightened, and she struggled to find her voice. “I know, Thomas. I know you’ve been here for me in every way, and I…” She trailed off, her thoughts tangling.
“I just want you to know,” Thomas said, his voice quieter now, “that no matter what happens, I’ll always stand by you. Whether you need a friend, an ally, or—”
He stopped, his words hanging in the air, unfinished but unmistakable.
