Day After the Terrace Incident
7:41 AM – Jesse's Apartment, Southbank
The espresso machine sputtered to life, but Jesse barely noticed. He was already at his desk, sleeves rolled up, a tablet glowing in front of him, lines of Damian Vale's digital footprint spreading like spiderwebs. Not much was sticking. Damian was frustratingly good at controlling his narrative. High-level corporate acquisitions, some well-orchestrated philanthropy, a trail of sanitized interviews-but behind that was something else. Something carefully omitted. Jesse tapped into old networks. Some MI6-adjacent, some messier. He didn't like what he wasn't finding. --- 9:02 AM – Encrypted Chat Server A green dot pulsed next to a name he hadn't seen in years: Kairos. Jesse hesitated. His finger hovered. Then: > You still owe me one. Need info on Damian Vale. Quietly. Seconds passed. Then a reply blinked back: > That's a name I didn't expect to hear from you. Jesse frowned. > You know him? > Not directly. But I know who he knows. > Who? > Meet me at the old garden. Noon. Come alone. --- 12:00 PM – Kyoto Garden, Holland Park It was quiet except for the breeze stirring the bamboo and the faint gurgle of koi ponds. Jesse stood near the water, scanning the stone paths. The man who emerged from the shadows wore a charcoal coat and a wary expression. Rafael Sayegh. Old friend. Former intelligence analyst. Now a ghost. "You're the last person I expected to dig around Vale," Rafael said, voice low. "I could say the same. You're working with him?" Rafael didn't deny it. Jesse took a step closer. "Why, Raf? You used to talk about people like him like they were viruses." Rafael's gaze flicked to the water. "People like him used to be viruses. Now they are the system." "That's not a justification." "It's not a justification," Rafael agreed. "It's a survival mechanism." Jesse stared. "You're better than that." Rafael finally met his eyes. "No. I'm not. I'm just more tired than you are." --- 12:07 PM – The Reveal Jesse folded his arms. "What is he planning?" "You think this is about money?" Rafael said. "It's never about money. It's about leverage. Damian isn't trying to win a contract or steal assets." He paused. "He's trying to shift gravity. Build something that replaces the need for companies like Alina's." Jesse stiffened. "What do you mean, 'replace'?" Rafael gave him a look. "He doesn't want to take her company. He wants to render it irrelevant. And her with it." A long silence passed between them. Then Jesse asked the question he hadn't wanted to face. "Did he tell you to keep tabs on me?" Rafael's hesitation was brief-but enough. "You're a variable," he admitted. "Not the main target, but... important." Jesse's voice was ice. "You spying on me now?" "No." Rafael's eyes softened. "I came because I remembered who we were. I thought maybe you'd stop this before it's too late." Jesse took a step back. Then turned. "I will." --- Later – Jesse's Car, Driving South As the city blurred past, Jesse's mind raced. Damian Vale wasn't just a manipulator. He was building something bigger. And Rafael-Raf, who used to fight for truth-had been folded into it like a page in a playbook. This wasn't a rivalry anymore. It was war. And Alina didn't even know how close the front lines were. Jesse pulled out his phone. "Alina. We need to talk. Now."