Chapter 3 - THE DIGITAL FOOTPRINT
In a high-rise glass office overlooking the glittering Chicago skyline, Dominic Moretti stood with his hands braced against the edge of a mahogany desk, staring down at a glowing computer monitor. The room was dark, illuminated only by the cold blue light of corporate intelligence dashboards.
For six months, his empire had suffered while he poured millions of dollars and every resource at his disposal into a single objective: finding Lena Carter.
She had vanished like smoke. No credit card usage, no social media activity, no contact with her family or school district. To the rest of the world, Lena Carter had simply ceased to exist on a rainy Thursday in November.
"Boss," Marcus—the same enforcer who had survived the garage incident and stood fiercely loyal to Dominic—stepped into the office, holding a single sheet of paper. "We got a hit."
Dominic’s head snapped up. His eyes, usually dead and unreadable, flared with a terrifying intensity. "Where?"
"A minor medical supply warehouse in coastal Maine filed a local municipal tax variance under an alias matching a structural employment pattern we flagged," Marcus reported smoothly. "A woman calling herself Nora Miller was captured on a security camera picking up a prescription at a local pharmacy three miles from Silver Creek."
Dominic walked around the desk, his Italian leather shoes clicking against the floor. He grabbed his tailored wool overcoat from the rack.
"Prepare the private jet," Dominic commanded, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp register. "We leave in twenty minutes."
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"Boss, do you want a tactical extraction team?" Marcus asked hesitantly. "If she’s been hiding, she might panic—"
"No," Dominic interrupted, freezing in the doorway. A dark, complicated shadow crossed his face. "She’s terrified of what she saw. If I bring an army, she’ll run into the sea. I’m going alone."
