Sterling's Target

Sterling leaned forward slightly, shadows shifting across his sharp features. "I caught a glimpse inside her vehicle," he murmured, his voice carrying undeniable authority. "Every component is top-of-the-line. Beyond that, she might actually possess Skywrought."

Marcus nearly slammed the brakes. His eyes darted to the rearview mirror. Skywrought? The impossibly rare material Sterling had hunted down for years? Using something so priceless on an ordinary daily driver bordered on madness.

"She didn't stop there," Sterling continued. "The engine and tires have undergone serious upgrades. That car's performance easily rivals a custom-built luxury sports car."

Marcus knew Sterling's eye for automotive engineering was flawless. He let out a low whistle. "Incredible. It makes no sense for someone her age to be that talented."

"The industry is still scratching their heads over how Silas Mercer locked down that distribution deal with Aether Group," Sterling said. "Callista might be the missing piece to this puzzle." He paused, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "Then there is the strange connection between the Mercer family and Dr. Calla. Rumor has it Silas's mother practically dotes on Callista. This girl could hold the valuable intel we need to track down Dr. Calla."

Marcus processed the information, his grip relaxing on the steering wheel. "Understood. I will arrange a deep dive into her background."

A few minutes later, the SUV rolled to a stop outside a high-end residential complex. They watched through tinted glass as Callista's modified beast of a car slipped past the security gates. Marcus killed the engine, choosing to hang back rather than draw attention.

He stared at the towering iron gates. "Her biological parents are supposedly dirt poor," Marcus muttered, piecing the contradictions together. "And Silas Mercer is notorious for being a tight-fisted bastard. There is no way the Mercers gave her much. Yet here she is, crashing in a luxury estate where apartments run forty grand a square foot, driving a car worth a fortune. She is definitely not hurting for cash."

Sterling leaned back, his demeanor returning to its usual cool detachment. "We will keep a close watch on her tonight. Pick up the trail tomorrow."

Marcus felt a sudden surge of energy. Callista was no longer just a boring background check; she was a living mystery. "Got it, Mr. Vance." They settled into their seats, preparing for a long night.

A block away, Callista parked her car in its designated spot. She had noticed the unfamiliar SUV tailing her miles back, but simply chose to ignore it. She had nothing to hide right now. She was heading to her private apartment, not her secret underground lab. Besides, she knew full well no one could touch her, regardless of what they dug up. She rode the elevator up, walked into her quiet apartment, freshened up, switched her phone to silent mode, and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows the next morning. Callista blinked awake, stretching her limbs before reaching for her phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with two missed calls and text messages from an unknown number. She tapped the notification, expecting spam, but the polite tone caught her off guard.

[Hello, Callista. This is Gideon and Elise Thorne. We tried calling earlier, but your phone seemed to be off. We thought you might still be resting, so we're sending this message instead.]

A beat of silence hung in the room as she read the words. She swiped down to the next text.

[We live quite far from you, and our place can be a little tricky to find. Would you like us to pick you up?]

And then the final message: [Here is our address. But we'd be happy to pick you up if you'd prefer.]

Callista stared at the glowing screen. A strange, unfamiliar warmth blossomed in her chest. She had spent eighteen years in the Mercer household, a place defined by cold calculations and transactional affection. This genuine, tentative kindness from her biological parents softened the hard edges of her expression.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed. [Thank you. I'll come on my own and should be there around noon.]

Almost instantly, the chat bubble popped up with a response. [Alright. We're making lunch now. Let us know if you have any preferences or dietary restrictions.]

Callista was not used to this level of warmth. She usually avoided small talk like the plague. Yet, she could not help but picture a sweet elderly couple bustling around a tiny kitchen, nervously preparing for their daughter's arrival. A rare smile touched her lips.

She hit the emoji keyboard and sent back a smiley face. [I'm not picky. Whatever you make will be great!]

A brief pause followed, as if they were carefully navigating their smartphone screen. Then, the reply came through with two smiley emojis. [Perfect! We're excited to have you over.]

Callista let out a soft chuckle. She could easily imagine Gideon and Elise taking their sweet time to craft that exact message. She set the phone down and headed for the shower, her mood noticeably lighter.

Thirty minutes later, Callista emerged, fully dressed and ready. She grabbed her phone, slung her bag over her shoulder, and left the apartment. On her way out, she stopped by a nearby café, grabbing a black coffee and a simple sandwich. She settled into the driver's seat, plugged the Thornes' address into the GPS, and started the long drive out of the new part of town.

The city skyline gradually gave way to quieter, older neighborhoods. As she followed the blue line on the GPS screen, her phone buzzed through the car's Bluetooth system. An incoming call from Iris West flashed on the dashboard.

Callista tapped the steering wheel to answer. "Tell me you have something."

"I haven't found everything yet, but I've uncovered most of it," Iris's crisp voice filled the cabin.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," Callista replied, taking a sip of her coffee.

Knowing Callista had zero patience for beating around the bush, Iris dove straight in. "Ten days ago, someone anonymously sent a letter to Silas Mercer and his wife. The letter claimed that the twins they had eighteen years ago are still alive, and that you're not their biological daughter."

Callista's eyes narrowed, her focus locking onto the road ahead.

"It didn't stop there," Iris continued. "The sender included photos of the twins and a verified paternity test. After reading it, the Mercers panicked. They secretly took a blood sample from you for another test, which officially confirmed you aren't their daughter."

Callista's mind instantly flashed back to last week. Helena had cornered her in the living room, aggressively insisting on trimming her nails. It had been such a bizarre, out-of-character moment. During the process, Helena had snipped her skin, drawing blood, and then meticulously cleaned the tiny wound with a cotton swab before rushing off. Callista had found it incredibly odd at the time. Helena had never shown a single ounce of maternal concern before.

So that was how they got my blood, Callista thought, a cold realization settling over her.

When Callista remained silent, Iris kept talking. "After confirming the truth with your blood, the Mercers received a second anonymous letter. This one contained detailed information and contact details for the actual twins. They reached out to them immediately. At the same time, they hired a private investigator to track down your biological parents. That was when they finally sat you down, told you everything, and rushed to pack your bags."

Callista maintained a steady speed, her expression perfectly composed despite the bombshells dropping around her. "So, whoever sent those letters must be someone very close to me and the Mercers. They knew exactly how to trigger this entire chain of events."

"Exactly," Iris agreed. "But they have been extremely careful. They covered their digital and physical tracks well. I haven't been able to trace the sender just yet."

"Take your time," Callista said, her tone casual. "If they are that close, they'll slip up eventually. People like that always want to see the fallout of their work."

"Got it," Iris said, the sound of keyboard clacking echoing in the background. "There's one more thing. I dug into the past. I found out that eighteen years ago, the Thornes were actually doing quite well financially. Your birth mother and Silas's wife both gave birth at St. Mary Hospital on the exact same day." Iris paused, letting the weight of her next words hang in the air. "Your mother was expecting twins too."

Callista pressed her foot on the brake slightly, the sudden deceleration tossing her bag forward. She gasped, her heart skipping a beat as the puzzle pieces slammed together in her head. "So... I might have a twin brother or sister?"