THE LIE THAT WORE A RING - Chapter 43: Chapter 43
You are reading THE LIE THAT WORE A RING, Chapter 43: Chapter 43. Read more chapters of THE LIE THAT WORE A RING.
: The Anonymous Flame
Sometimes, setting the truth free means becoming the spark that burns everything down.
Three days had passed since the Carters received the threat.
The files from Craven Hall had been encrypted, copied, and sent in staggered releases to three trusted outlets under aliases. The family worked in shifts—some monitoring dark web chatter, others preparing contingencies.
Ava no longer flinched at silence. She had seen what silence could hide.
Now, she feared the noise—the backlash.
“Once the first drop is public,” Nicholas said, his eyes on the encrypted upload bar, “they’ll panic. They’ll retaliate.”
Elise stood in the corner, arms folded. “Then we don’t wait for them to strike. We stay mobile. I’ve already arranged safe houses.”
Ethan looked up from the screen. “What if it’s not enough?”
Ava met her father’s eyes. “We didn’t come this far to crawl back into the dark.”
Nicholas placed his hand on the laptop.
> UPLOAD COMPLETE.
The first wave of documents—art laundering records, digital forensics, fake museum acquisitions—were live on a whistleblower site by midnight.
The world wouldn’t know who dropped them.
But Craven Hall would.
And that’s what mattered.
The following morning, the mansion’s security system triggered an alert: Breached perimeter.
By the time Nicholas reached the camera feed, the intruder was already inside.
Except it wasn’t an enemy.
It was Claire Doyle.
Nicholas opened the doors himself.
“You’re lucky I didn’t call the police,” he said.
Claire, still wrapped in a black scarf, smirked. “You think local police can stop what’s coming?”
She stepped inside, scanning the room. “I’ve been monitoring chatter since Budapest. They’re calling it the Red Echo. The signal you just set off—it’s global.”
“What do you want, Claire?” Ava asked sharply.
“To help,” Claire replied. “Because like it or not, we’re all part of this mess. And because Craven’s reach just hit your front gate.”
She tossed down a file.
Inside were surveillance images—of their pilot. Their chef. Their gatekeeper.
All infiltrated.
“They knew where you were the moment you opened that vault,” Claire said. “They’ve just been waiting for you to strike first.”
Nicholas felt the chill set in. “And now?”
“Now they’ll erase the flame before it spreads.”
That night, the family relocated to an off-grid safehouse Elise had secured years ago—a minimalist cabin near a private lake, used once for political clients seeking to vanish.
It was just them now. No staff. No luxuries.
Just the truth, and the threat of it.
Nicholas gathered them around the fire.
“This isn’t just about Isabelle anymore. Or revenge. This is about choice. About whether we let fear win.”
He looked at Ava and Ethan. “You can walk away. I won’t blame you.”
But Ethan shook his head. “We’re not kids anymore, Dad.”
Ava nodded. “We were born in fire. It’s time we used it.”
Meanwhile, deep in the underbelly of Craven’s command web, Vincent Hale watched the files spreading through secure lines. His jaw was tight, his eyes hollow.
He’d underestimated Nicholas Carter.
Again.
A masked figure stepped into the room behind him—cloaked in gray, voice altered.
> “They’ve set the flame. If we let it burn…”
Vincent didn’t turn.
> “Then we burn with it.”
The figure paused. Then slid a small velvet case onto the desk.
Vincent opened it slowly.
Inside, resting on black silk—
A bullet.
Etched with the letter: A.
Sometimes, setting the truth free means becoming the spark that burns everything down.
Three days had passed since the Carters received the threat.
The files from Craven Hall had been encrypted, copied, and sent in staggered releases to three trusted outlets under aliases. The family worked in shifts—some monitoring dark web chatter, others preparing contingencies.
Ava no longer flinched at silence. She had seen what silence could hide.
Now, she feared the noise—the backlash.
“Once the first drop is public,” Nicholas said, his eyes on the encrypted upload bar, “they’ll panic. They’ll retaliate.”
Elise stood in the corner, arms folded. “Then we don’t wait for them to strike. We stay mobile. I’ve already arranged safe houses.”
Ethan looked up from the screen. “What if it’s not enough?”
Ava met her father’s eyes. “We didn’t come this far to crawl back into the dark.”
Nicholas placed his hand on the laptop.
> UPLOAD COMPLETE.
The first wave of documents—art laundering records, digital forensics, fake museum acquisitions—were live on a whistleblower site by midnight.
The world wouldn’t know who dropped them.
But Craven Hall would.
And that’s what mattered.
The following morning, the mansion’s security system triggered an alert: Breached perimeter.
By the time Nicholas reached the camera feed, the intruder was already inside.
Except it wasn’t an enemy.
It was Claire Doyle.
Nicholas opened the doors himself.
“You’re lucky I didn’t call the police,” he said.
Claire, still wrapped in a black scarf, smirked. “You think local police can stop what’s coming?”
She stepped inside, scanning the room. “I’ve been monitoring chatter since Budapest. They’re calling it the Red Echo. The signal you just set off—it’s global.”
“What do you want, Claire?” Ava asked sharply.
“To help,” Claire replied. “Because like it or not, we’re all part of this mess. And because Craven’s reach just hit your front gate.”
She tossed down a file.
Inside were surveillance images—of their pilot. Their chef. Their gatekeeper.
All infiltrated.
“They knew where you were the moment you opened that vault,” Claire said. “They’ve just been waiting for you to strike first.”
Nicholas felt the chill set in. “And now?”
“Now they’ll erase the flame before it spreads.”
That night, the family relocated to an off-grid safehouse Elise had secured years ago—a minimalist cabin near a private lake, used once for political clients seeking to vanish.
It was just them now. No staff. No luxuries.
Just the truth, and the threat of it.
Nicholas gathered them around the fire.
“This isn’t just about Isabelle anymore. Or revenge. This is about choice. About whether we let fear win.”
He looked at Ava and Ethan. “You can walk away. I won’t blame you.”
But Ethan shook his head. “We’re not kids anymore, Dad.”
Ava nodded. “We were born in fire. It’s time we used it.”
Meanwhile, deep in the underbelly of Craven’s command web, Vincent Hale watched the files spreading through secure lines. His jaw was tight, his eyes hollow.
He’d underestimated Nicholas Carter.
Again.
A masked figure stepped into the room behind him—cloaked in gray, voice altered.
> “They’ve set the flame. If we let it burn…”
Vincent didn’t turn.
> “Then we burn with it.”
The figure paused. Then slid a small velvet case onto the desk.
Vincent opened it slowly.
Inside, resting on black silk—
A bullet.
Etched with the letter: A.
End of THE LIE THAT WORE A RING Chapter 43. Continue reading Chapter 44 or return to THE LIE THAT WORE A RING book page.