They ducked into a quieter side street where golden light spilled from hanging lanterns and the scent of fried food gave way to cold air and old stone. The city felt older here. Quieter. Like they’d slipped into a postcard. Like they were the only two people who mattered. In another life, this could be a date, but Harper couldn’t afford to get swept up in possibilities.
Harper bit into her croquette. Of course it was stupidly good. Because Sebastian never did anything halfway, not even forbidden snacks on side streets during working hours. A small, traitorous part of her wondered what else he never did halfway.
She gave him a side-eye, trying to reclaim her professional detachment. “Is this what you do? Take journalists into back alleys and charm them into giving you good press?”
He grinned, catching her gaze longer than strictly necessary. “Only the difficult ones.”
“You’re better at this than I expected,” she said.
“At croquettes?”
“At… not making me regret working with you.” Sebastian blinked, caught off guard. Then he smiled—soft this time, without the usual edge of mischief. “I could still ruin it,” he offered lightly. “There’s time.”
“I know.” Her voice dropped. “That’s the scary part.” They kept walking.
They wandered past a shuttered wine shop and turned into a narrow courtyard—one of those hidden spaces not even on the tourist maps. It had a wrought iron bench and a fountain with a lion’s head that coughed up water like it was deeply offended to be part of the décor. Sebastian gestured dramatically.
“This is where I usually come to hide from things,” he said. “Meetings. Reality. Occasionally my own choices.”
“So basically your natural habitat.” She felt the corner of her mouth tugging upward despite herself.
He flopped dramatically onto the bench. “Exactly.”
Harper hesitated, then sat beside him—keeping what she told herself was a professionally appropriate amount of space between them. The bench wasn’t large, though, and she could feel the warmth radiating from him in the cool evening air.
“So,” she said, suddenly aware of how alone they were, “you said we needed to talk?”
He nodded, suddenly a little more serious. “It’s about Charles. I think we’ve got him.”
That sobered her. “What do you mean?”
Sebastian leaned forward, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. “Ethan’s been digging through those offshore accounts we found. He’s mapped out the entire network—shell companies, hidden trusts, all of it.” His eyes gleamed with something between triumph and vengeance. “There’s a clear money trail from foreign developers straight to Charles’s private accounts, all coinciding perfectly with those rezoning approvals he pushed through last year.”
Harper felt her pulse quicken, but not entirely from professional excitement. “Are you absolutely sure? We’re talking about one of the most powerful men in the country.”
“Better than sure,” Sebastian replied, reaching into his coat and pulling out a slim file. “Bank transfers, meeting logs, emails, everything.” He handed her the file, their fingers brushing in a way that sent an entirely unprofessional shiver up her spine. “It’s airtight, Harper. Bribes, influence peddling, regulatory capture—it’s all there.”
She opened the file, scanning the documents with practiced efficiency. The evidence was damning—dates, amounts, coded correspondence that wasn’t nearly coded enough. Her journalist’s instinct hummed with the unmistakable electricity of a career-defining story.
“This is…” she began, looking up to find Sebastian watching her intently.
“Enough?” he finished.
Harper nodded slowly, her mind already formatting headlines, planning follow-ups, anticipating denials. “More than enough.This isn’t just another scandal, Sebastian. This is the kind of story that ends dynasties.”
Something flickered across his face—satisfaction mixed with something deeper, more personal. “Do you think your editor will run it?”
“With this evidence? He’d be insane not to.” She closed the file, tapping it against her palm. “But Charles won’t go down without a fight. We need to be prepared for everything—legal threats, character assassination, possibly worse.”
Sebastian’s smile was sharp, almost predatory. “I’m counting on it.”
Harper studied him, seeing the calculation beneath his usual nonchalance. “This isn’t just about exposing corruption for you, is it?”
For a moment, his normal composure slipped, revealing a glimpse of raw determination that made her breath catch. “Does it matter? We both want the same thing.”
“I want the truth,” she said carefully. “What do you want, Sebastian?”
He held her gaze, something electric sparking between them. “Justice. Consequences. An end to the untouchable Hawthorne legacy.” He paused, then added more softly, “Freedom.”