It was 11:45 PM when Jayson arrived home, at the estate apartment. No one had followed him. No one knew where he was. His heart still reeled from the shock of what he'd discovered at the port—a truth he's contemplating on whether or not to share with Nadia. 
Stepping inside, his presence drew her gaze but not her words. The floorboards betrayed him, creaking beneath his weight despite his careful entry, announcing his arrival more effectively than any greeting could have.
The living room smelled of faint turpentine. Nadia stood barefoot in a corner near the open window, beside her easel, eyes fixed on the night skyline. The easel displayed Soft strokes. Uncertain colors. The kind of art made more for comfort than display. A breeze lifted the edges of her pale cotton shirt, stirring the room's air like an invisible hand searching for secrets.
She offered him a small smile. "You're back."
"Yeah," he said, gazing at the painting on the canvas. "I was right, you still have it in you."
She glanced at the half-finished piece—blue skies fading into rusted oranges, with dark silhouettes that might have been buildings or mountains, undefined but suggestive. "It's nothing. Just trying to feel again." Her voice carried a weariness that betrayed weeks of professional frustration.
Jayson nodded, but his mind was miles ahead, racing with the weight of his discovery and the drive in his jacket pocket. "It's good," he said, gesturing toward the canvas. "The colors speak."
Nadia tilted her head, evaluating her work with renewed skepticism. "They're mumbling at best." She moved away from the window. "How was your meeting? You were gone longer than expected."
He slipped past her, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading into his room. "Productive. Very productive. Give me a minute, I'll be back."
Once inside, he locked the door—a soft click that felt thunderous in his ears.
He pulled the flash drive from his jacket pocket, still warm from his hand. With practiced movements, he powered up his laptop, waited for the familiar start-up chime, and plugged in the drive. The screen flickered. The folder opened.
Dozens of documents. Some scanned. Others typed reports. Memos. Emails. A digital paper trail that someone had risked everything to compile.
And one PDF labeled: "Internal Acquisition Summary – Herald News."
He opened it, heart pounding against his ribs.
It was all there.
Herald News was bought in secret seven months ago by a dummy corporation tied to Omaha Dredge Investments Ltd. A deeper scan revealed the real name behind the shell company—Senator Donovan Lewis."
"Christ, he wants to control the media. So that no one gets to him", Jayson whispered, scrolling further.
Underneath that, another file. A birth record. Tyrone Martin listed as "son of Michael White Lewis" and "half-brother to Senator Donovan Lewis" abandoned at birth. That explains their different last names.
Jayson scrolled down a picture from Lewis's last campaign two years ago as a senator and there was Tyrone behind him. That confirms the familiarity he felt when he first saw Tyrone's picture.
Jayson sat back, running his hands through his hair. The chair squeaked beneath his shifting weight.
Now it made sense— the way he's quietly reshaping the staffs at Herald, Killing stories and smuggling weapons.
"Was this what you found Cedric?"
He clicked through more files, watching pieces fall into place like ash on kindling. Financial records showing money transfers between the Senator's campaign and third-party media consultants. Internal memos from Tyrone detailing "content adjustment strategies." A list of journalists to be "redirected."
They weren't just up against a corrupted editor.
They were up against a machine.
And it wasn't going to stop until it erased everything inconvenient.
He needed a counter-move. Fast. Something bold. Something they couldn't quietly kill.
Then it came to him.
The opposition candidate—Richard David.
He was clean so far, and rumor had it he owned a media house—Nexus TV—also known for its credibility. If Jayson could bring this story to that table, it wouldn't just survive—it would explode.
He connected his phone to his laptop, moved the pictures he took at the seaport into his laptop. His hand trembled slightly, but not from fear. From purpose.
Three sharp knocks on the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Jayson?" Nadia's voice, curious but concerned. "You've been in there for nearly an hour."
He checked his watch. She was right.
He unlocked the door and opened it to find Nadia leaning against the frame, arms crossed over her chest. She'd changed into a dark sweater, her hair pulled back now.
"Sorry," he said, stepping aside to let her in. "Lost track of time."
She entered cautiously, noting his intensity. "You're different. Something happened."
Jayson closed the door behind him with a soft click, his shoulders tense as he leaned against it.
"I went back to the port."
Nadia looked up sharply, a flicker of surprise washing over her face. "What? Why would you risk that?"
"I had to confirm what we suspected." Jayson crossed the room and sank into the chair opposite her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "This is bigger than we thought, Nadi. Much bigger."
"So what did you find?"
Jayson ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Remember six months ago? When every media channel was running stories about Lewis renovating the Portovenan children's home?" He shook his head. "That was a cover. The money was actually funding ammunition importation. I confirmed it firsthand."
"Jayson." Nadia's voice dropped to match his whisper. "Are you absolutely certain about what you're saying? That's a serious accusation."
"I saw it with my own eyes." His gaze didn't waver. "Tyrone and Chief Walter had a secret meeting at the orphanage at midnight two days ago. They weren't discussing renovations, Nadi." He swallowed hard. "Cedric was silenced because he discovered the truth. Naomi too."
Nadia's face paled. "So you're saying..."
"I'm saying that you and I are in grave danger for uncovering this." Jayson reached across and took her hand, his grip tight. "These people won't hesitate to eliminate anyone who threatens their operation."
"So what do you suggest?" Nadia's voice was steady despite the fear evident in her eyes.
"I want you to leave the city tonight." Jayson's words came out in a rush. "I'll move your mother somewhere safe first thing in the morning. Then I'll face this battle alone—"
"Are you listening to yourself?" Nadia pulled her hand away, indignation flashing across her face. "After everything we've uncovered together?"
"Nadi, if anything happens to you, I'll never forgive myself." His voice cracked. "I was the one who dragged you into this mess. This was my investigation—"
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you," Nadia cut him off, crossing her arms, "but I made up my mind a long time ago to expose the truth, whatever the cost." Her chin lifted in defiance. "It's a tragedy that Cedric had to die because he didn't have a partner to watch his back. But you and I—we're stronger together. So instead of trying to push me away, give me solutions."
Jayson held her gaze for a long moment, conflict clear in his expression before his shoulders finally slumped in resignation. He reached for his laptop and turned the screen toward Nadia as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Here's everything I've gathered," he said, scrolling through a carefully organized collection of photographs, notes, and documents. "If we're going to do this—and survive—we need a plan that doesn't end with our names being added to the casualty list."
Nadia leaned forward, her eyes scanning the evidence of corruption spread across the screen. "Then let's make one. What's the best way you think to handle this?" Nadia asked. "We can't post it online without any backup. If not they'd come after us at night."
Jayson stood up moved slowly to the window in his room, facing her. "I'm still thinking. Though got an idea but..."
Nadia relaxed into the bed, processing. "They bought an entire newspaper just to control the narrative?"
"It's a fraction of what he stands to gain if he becomes governor," Jayson said. "Think about it—billions in development contracts, regulatory appointments, policy influence. A newspaper's price tag is pocket change."
Nadia rubbed her temples. "So what's your idea? Herald won't publish this. No major outlet will touch it—they're either owned by similar interests or too afraid of the blowback."
Jayson paced the length of the room, his energy barely contained. "Richard David."
"Lewis's opponent? What about him?"
"He owns Nexus TV. Small outfit, but legitimate. Making name for themselves with investigative work."
Nadia's eyes narrowed. "You want to take this story to the opposition candidate? Jayson, that's—"
"Our only option," he finished. "Look, I know how it sounds. But we're not choosing sides here. We're choosing truth. If Donovan can buy a newspaper to kill stories, then we can find one willing to run them."
She stood, crossing to the window. Stood beside him. "It feels wrong. Using one politician to expose another."
"We're not using David," Jayson countered. "We're using Nexus. They want credibility; we need a platform. It's symbiotic."
"And if David has his own agenda? His own skeletons?"
Jayson closed the distance between them, hands in his pockets as he could hear his own heartbeat "Then we expose those too, when the time comes. This isn't about politics, Nadi. It's about journalism. Justice for Cedric and Naomi. Letting the world know the truth"
She maintained a steady gaze with him, her expression serious. "How would we even approach them? We can't just walk into Nexus's office with a flash drive."
"I have a contact," Jayson said. "Someone who knows someone who works there. We arrange a meeting, someplace public but quiet. We bring the evidence, they bring the platform."
"And our names?" Nadia asked quietly. "Our careers?"
Jayson paused, understanding her concern. "We can stay anonymous initially. If the story catches fire—and it will—we'll have public protection. They can't quiet us if everyone's watching."
Nadia walked back into the living room to her easel, contemplating the unfinished painting. After a long moment, she dipped her brush in a dark red and made a bold stroke across the sky.
"Need to process the idea," Nadia said, more to herself than anyone else.
Jayson stepped out, joining her in the space.
"It's not too late to back out," he said.
Nadia released a heavy sigh. "It's not that. I feel your method is too risky. What if they sell us out? You know what politicians are like."
Jayson nodded. "You're right. So what do you suggest?"
"I say let's find a way to get inside the agency, assess their values firsthand... then we can even slip in the information unnoticed."
"You're right. Let's do that. But how do we get inside?"
"I'll visit Nexus with the intention of seeking a career opportunity there. If I succeed, that will be my first story."
"You're still as smart as ever, Nadi," Jayson touched her cheek in a playful yet romantic way. "Good idea. Let's put it in motion. How about using your lunch break tomorrow?"
"Perfect!" Nadia chimed in as she continued drawing lines on her canvas.
Jayson walked into the kitchen.