Read Chapter 19: The Enemy of My Enemy

The address Véronique had given her led to a fourth-floor walk-up in the Marais, a building Camille knew by heart. She’d climbed these stairs a hundred times as a junior product manager, clutching mockups and hoping Françoise would approve. Now her hand hovered over the buzzer, the red scarf heavy in her coat pocket.

The door swung open before she could press it. Françoise stood in the doorway, silk blouse immaculate, silver hair swept back. She didn’t look surprised.

“I wondered when you’d come.”

Françoise turned and walked inside, leaving the door open. Camille followed, noting the apartment had changed since she’d last been here. The walls were bare where photographs had hung. Boxes lined the hallway, taped and labeled. Françoise was moving.

“You’re leaving,” Camille said.

“Retirement. Finally.” Françoise gestured to a leather sofa. “Sit. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Camille stayed standing. She pulled the scarf from her pocket and held it out. “Explain this.”

Françoise’s eyes flicked to the fabric, then away. She walked to the window, looking out at the rooftops. “It’s just a scarf. I gave it to you years ago. You were cold at my mother’s funeral.”

“And to Lucie. And presumably to Maxime.” Camille’s voice was flat. “I saw her wearing the same one. She was terrified when she realized what it meant. What does it mean, Françoise?”

Silence stretched between them. A bus rumbled past below, its noise filling the room. Finally, Françoise turned.

“I made mistakes,” she said. “With Lucas. Long before you were hired.”

Camille’s chest tightened. “What kind of mistakes?”

“We were partners. Early days, before AlgoSens was even named. He had the capital, I had the vision. We built a prototype together called Nexus—a neural routing engine that could optimize any data stream.” She paused, a brittle smile crossing her face. “It was brilliant. And illegal. We used scraped data from shadow markets to train it. Everything was anonymized, laundered through shell companies. I thought we were untouchable.”

“What happened?”

“Lucas wanted to scale. Aggressively. I wanted to wait, to make sure the regulatory side was clean. We argued. He called it cowardice. I called him a liability.” Her voice hardened. “One night, he took the code. All of it. Backed it up, wiped our shared servers, and sold Nexus to a defence contractor in Brussels. I found out through a news leak. He framed me for the initial data theft—made it look like I’d been the one pulling the strings. I got out. Barely. Lucie and Maxime were my collaborators back then too. They helped me scrub my trail.”

“So you’ve been hiding from him your whole career.”

“I forged a new path. New company, new name, new code. AlgoSens was supposed to be my redemption.” Françoise’s eyes met Camille’s with a hard intensity. “And it was, until Lucas smelled the opportunity. He doesn’t care about the patent. He wants back in. He’s been trying to take AlgoSens apart and rebuild his old network inside the EU health sector.”

Camille’s mind spun. “So the scarf?”

“A marker. A way to watch for him. Lucie, Maxime, and I all wear them—identical, woven with a thread that carries a passive RFID chip. If one of us gets too close to Lucas, the others can trace the signal and warn them.” Françoise pressed her lips together. “I gave you one because I wanted you to be part of that network. To be protected.”

“Protected?” Camille’s voice rose. “You’ve been spying on me.”

“I’ve been trying to protect you from making the same mistake I did.” Françoise stepped closer. “Lucas will destroy you if you let him. Do whatever it takes to win, Camille. Whatever it takes. Cut corners. Bend the rules. I learned that too late—I tried to play his game honestly, and he stole everything from me.”

Camille stared at her. This was the woman who had taught her how to structure product roadmaps, how to negotiate contracts, how to hold a room’s attention. This was the mentor who had taken her aside after every failed launch and told her failure was just data. And now she was standing here, telling Camille that the only way to win was to become Lucas.

“No,” Camille said quietly.

Françoise blinked. “No?”

“You just told me he stole your code and framed you for illegal activity. And now you’re telling me to do the same thing.” Camille shoved the scarf back into her pocket. “I’m not going to become him.”

“You’ll lose.”

“Maybe.” Camille turned toward the door. “But at least I’ll know who I am when I lose.”

She was halfway down the stairs when Françoise called out behind her. “Camille—the USB you got from Lucie. Maxime’s code. It’s built on a kernel version we used in Nexus. Lucas will argue it’s derivative. He’s not entirely wrong.”

Camille paused, foot on the next step. “Then how do we fight him?”

“You don’t fight on the patent. You fight on the betrayal. He’s arrogant. He keeps trophies.” Françoise’s voice dropped. “There’s a safe deposit box at BNP Paribas, avenue de l’Opéra. Box 412. It holds original contracts between him and his shell company partners, dated before I left. Proof of his fraud. I was going to bring it to the authorities myself, but I couldn’t risk my name on it.”

Camille turned back. Françoise looked old, suddenly. Fragile.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re right. I don’t want to be him either.” Françoise’s chin lifted. “Go. Take what you need. But be careful—he’ll burn anyone who touches that box.”

Camille walked down the rest of the stairs with her heart hammering. Outside, the cold air hit her face and she stopped, leaning against the building’s facade. She pulled out her phone. Still no reply from Antoine.

She hailed a taxi.

---

Antoine’s apartment was in the 11th, above a boulangerie that filled the stairwell with the scent of butter and yeast. Camille knocked. No answer. She knocked again, harder.

“Antoine, I know you’re in there.”

A pause. Then the lock clicked. The door opened a crack, and Antoine’s face appeared, guarded, a day’s stubble shadowing his jaw. His eyes were red-rimmed, but he was sober.

“I need to talk to you,” she said. “And I need you to let me in.”

He hesitated, then stepped aside.

The apartment was small—a studio with a kitchenette and a fold-out couch that was currently unfolded, sheets tangled. Coffee cups dotted every surface. His laptop was open, glowing on the tiny table.

“You didn’t call me back,” she said.

“I didn’t know what to say.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You asked me to cross a line. I walked out because I didn’t want to regret what I’d say if I stayed.”

“I know.” Camille sat on the edge of his desk chair, gripping her knees. “I was wrong. I was scared, and I took it out on you. What I said about your past failure—that was cruel. I don’t believe it. I’ve never believed it.”

Antoine’s shoulders loosened slightly. “That module. The manipulation loop. You still think we should ship it?”

“No.” The word came out stronger than she expected. “I talked to Françoise. She told me to cut corners. To be like Lucas. And I realized that’s the exact thing I’ve been running from my whole career—becoming someone I don’t respect.” Camille took a breath. “The USB from Lucie—Maxime’s code—it has a clause. A hidden packet injector that can silently extract health data from any device it touches. It’s been there since the original Nexus days. Françoise built it, and Maxime never removed it.”

Antoine’s eyes widened. “So it’s not just manipulation—it’s a data leak.”

“We strip it out. Tonight. We deliver the code clean, even if it means we lose the contract to someone who’ll ship a worse product with better ethics.” She looked at him directly. “I’d rather lose with integrity than win with this.”

Antoine studied her for a long moment. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at his mouth. “That’s the Camille I followed across the city.”

He moved to his laptop, pulling up the code. “Show me where it is.”

Camille joined him, and for the next two hours, they worked in tandem—she traced the logic flow, he excised the injector functions, line by line. When they had stripped out the last trace of the module, Antoine ran a final scan and let out a low whistle.

“We’ve just deleted forty hours of work. If we don’t win Thursday, this was all for nothing.”

“I know.” Camille met his eyes. “But at least we’ll lose clean.”

“That’s not a bad way to lose.” Antoine closed the laptop. “I’m sorry I walked out. I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“That you might actually be right. That cutting corners was the only way to win. And then I’d have to leave.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re the only person in this city who makes me think the work still matters.”

Camille felt something loosen in her chest. “We’re going to need a plan for Lucas’s patent claim. Françoise gave me an address—BNP, box 412. Original contracts proving his fraud.”

Antoine’s eyes sharpened. “Then we have a shot.”

His phone buzzed on the table. They both looked at it. Camille’s phone buzzed a second later. She picked hers up, reading the screen.

An email from Lucas Delacroix.

*Dear Ms. Laurent,*

*Please be advised that as of this morning, I have acquired a 10% stake in AlgoSens from private shareholders. Per our operating agreement, this qualifies me for a board seat, effective immediately. I look forward to our first meeting.*

*Regards,* *Lucas*

Camille looked up at Antoine. The warmth of their conversation evaporated, replaced by ice.

“He’s on the board,” she said. “He’s already inside.”