Chapter 19
The Choice Looms
POV: Sloane Harper
Victor calls me early in the morning. His tone is smooth, and his words come dressed in promises. He talks about comfort, stability, and a future where Daisy never lacks anything. I listen, silent, because I’ve learned that silence gives power. He offers to put everything in Daisy’s name if I agree to be his partner. My heart feels tight, but my mind stays calm.
He says I should stop working so hard and let him take care of things. He says it as if my effort is a burden, as if ambition doesn’t belong to women. I grip the edge of my desk, forcing my voice to stay steady. I tell him I’ll think about it, though my answer is already clear in my head. I can’t let another man decide my life.
When I end the call, my phone buzzes again. Gabriel’s name flashes on the screen. His voice is low and warm, the kind that makes words linger longer than they should. He asks if I’m all right, and I lie, saying I’m fine. He says he has an idea, one that could strengthen Harper Solutions. His tone is serious, but there’s something soft underneath.
He talks about partnership again, not romantic, but business. Yet, every time he says my name, my heart forgets the difference. I ask him what he really wants, and he laughs, saying he only wants fairness. My pulse stumbles. I wonder if fairness includes the way his eyes hold mine longer than they should.
Later that afternoon, I met him at his office. He walks toward me with calm confidence. I try to look away, but my eyes betray me. He hands me a folder, showing plans for a joint venture. His ideas are sharp, and his words precise. Still, what gets to me is how he looks at me between sentences.
I tell him I’ll read the proposal. He says take your time, but the way he says it makes it sound like a dare. My skin prickles, and I shift my weight, trying to focus. He notices. He always notices. I try to sound indifferent, asking if he’s doing this to win over my company or me. His lips twitch, but he doesn’t answer.
Back home, Daisy runs to me with her toy in hand. She tells me she wants a new daddy, one who tells stories and helps her with puzzles. Her innocence cuts deep. I pull her close, whispering that she doesn’t need a new daddy, just love. She looks at me and says love makes her safe. I feel the sting of tears but blink them away.
I spend the night staring at Victor’s offer. The papers sit on the table, neat and tempting. Wealth, power, and protection all written in ink. But the cost feels too high. I can’t let Daisy see me trade myself again. My chest aches with the memory of what control once felt like.
Then I open Gabriel’s proposal. His handwriting on the notes beside the typed words makes my pulse quicken. There’s no demand, no control, just partnership. Still, it scares me because partnership requires trust. I wonder if I can trust him. I wonder if I can trust myself.
In the middle of the night, my phone lights up again. An unknown number sends a message with photos—images of me and Gabriel leaving his office. The caption says, “Mother finds comfort in rival’s arms.” My stomach twists. Adrian’s pattern is familiar. The timing is too perfect.
I call Maddy, my lawyer. Her voice is sharp from sleep, but she’s alert when she hears the photos. She says Adrian might be pushing for an emergency custody review. I breathe through the panic. I won’t let him take Daisy. I’ve built too much to lose now.
The next day, Maddy and I meet at her office. She pulls up files showing payments from Adrian’s account to the same journalist who leaked the last story. The pattern is clear. My chest tightens with anger and a strange sense of relief. Proof always brings peace, even when it hurts.
She says we’ll confront this in court if it comes up. I nod, though my mind is somewhere else. Gabriel’s voice echoes in my head. The way he said my name, slow and deliberate, like he was claiming it. I shake the thought away, but it lingers. I hate that it lingers.
When I leave Maddy’s office, I find Gabriel waiting outside. He smiles, and the world stills for a second. He asks if I saw the article. I nod. He says not to worry, that he’ll handle the press. His confidence feels like safety, and that’s what scares me most.
He offers to drive me home. I hesitate but agree. The car is quiet except for the hum of the engine. He glances at me, asking what I’m thinking. I say I’m thinking about choices. He says choices make power. I don’t tell him that power always comes with loss.
At home, Daisy’s asleep. I thank him for the ride, but he doesn’t leave immediately. His gaze holds mine, steady and questioning. He says he’ll fight beside me, whatever comes next. His words sink into me, deep and dangerous. I tell him goodnight and close the door slowly, afraid to admit how much I want him to stay.
I stand there for a while, hand on the doorknob. My mind races between Victor’s wealth and Gabriel’s warmth. One promises safety, the other freedom. Both come with a price. I whisper to myself that I’ll choose for Daisy, not for me. I repeat it until I believe it.
The next morning, I woke up to a call from Victor. His tone is sharp, no longer smooth. He says he knows I met Gabriel. He accuses me of playing both sides. I stay calm, saying I have the right to hear all offers. His words turn cold, and I can feel the threat behind them.
After I hang up, I sit on the bed, staring at the floor. Daisy walks in, rubbing her eyes, asking if we’re still safe. I nod, even though my voice doesn’t come out. She smiles and runs off to get her bag. My heart cracks a little with the weight of her trust.
I go to the office and bury myself in work. My phone buzzes again, another unknown message. This time it’s not photos. It’s a short clip of Daisy leaving school, someone filming her from a distance. My heart stops. My throat tightens. I read the message beneath it.
It says, “You can’t protect her forever.”
Chapter 20: The Firm Grows
POV: Sloane Harper
The morning starts with a call from my assistant. Her voice shakes with excitement as she tells me Harper Solutions landed a global client. I sit still for a moment, letting the words sink in. It feels like the air changes, but I stay calm and tell her to send me the details. I hang up, stare at the phone, and whisper, “We did it.”
Meetings fill the day. The client’s team joins the call, their tone full of respect. They talk about innovation, strategy, and long-term partnership. I keep my answers firm and short, making sure my voice doesn’t shake. When the call ends, I lean back, trying to steady the rush inside me.
Maddy calls soon after, congratulating me. She says the news will be everywhere by noon. I smile and tell her we’re just getting started. She reminds me to stay careful, that Adrian won’t like this kind of success. I nod even though she can’t see me. I already know.
By afternoon, the news hits social media. Headlines call me “The Woman Who Built Her Comeback.” I scroll through the comments, ignoring the hate and focusing on the admiration. Daisy’s laughter from the living room pulls me back to reality. I remind myself why I started all this.
Later, I got an invitation to speak at a Forbes event. The message is formal, but the tone feels personal. They want me to share my journey. I read it twice before replying yes. My chest tightens, but not with fear—just readiness.
The night before the event, I stay awake thinking about what to say. I want to be sharp, not emotional. I want to sound powerful, not proud. My words need to be cut without showing the wound. I rehearse in silence until the lines sound like truth.
At the event, the hall buzzes with voices. The lights feel distant, but I don’t flinch. When I step up to speak, the crowd falls quiet. I start with the story of losing everything, then building again. My voice doesn’t tremble once.
Halfway through, someone in the crowd calls out Adrian’s name. The tone is mocking, like a dare. I pause, meeting the direction of the voice. My lips form a cold smile as I reply, “Men can keep talking while women keep winning.” The audience erupts, their cheers drowning the heckler’s noise.
Afterward, several people approach me with handshakes and praise. Cameras flash, and microphones push forward. I answer briefly, saying success is about focus, not revenge. A few reporters linger, trying to dig deeper, but I stay controlled. My story belongs to me now.
When I return home, Daisy runs to hug me. She tells me her teacher showed my picture in class. She says her friends called me a boss. I laugh softly, trying to hide the ache in my throat. I tell her that being strong means never giving up. She nods, serious for a moment, then skips away.
That night, I couldn't sleep. My phone vibrates again—another message from Adrian’s lawyer. He’s filed a motion, claiming I’m too busy for Daisy. The words make my hands tighten around the phone. I close my eyes and count my breaths. He won’t win this.
In the morning, I met with Maddy. She reviews the motion with calm precision. She says it’s weak, built on rumors and emotion. I tell her I’m tired of fighting, but she says tired isn’t an option. She’s right. I can’t stop now.
Back at the office, Gabriel walks in without warning. His presence fills the space, but I pretend not to notice. He congratulates me on the Forbes speech. I thank him, keeping my voice neutral. He smiles slightly, saying he watched the replay three times. My chest feels tight again.
We sit across from each other in the conference room. He talks about expanding the firm’s global reach, about investors showing interest. His voice is steady, confident. I watch his lips move and forget the words for a second. I pull myself back quickly, pretending to take notes.
He leans forward, lowering his tone. He says he’s proud of me, not for the win, but for how I fight. I look away, trying to hide the warmth rising inside me. My hand brushes his by accident, and something electric passes through me. I pull back too fast.
He notices, of course. He always does. He asks if I’m afraid of him. I shake my head and tell him no, but my voice betrays me. He nods like he understands something I don’t. The silence stretches between us, heavy and charged.
When the meeting ends, he walks me to my car. His hand rests lightly on my arm, guiding me through the doorway. My pulse quickens, and my breath shortens. He doesn’t say a word, but the air between us feels louder than any voice. I can’t move for a second.
At home, Daisy tells me about her day. She says her teacher picked her to lead the class. She says leadership runs in our blood. I laugh, hugging her close. I tell her she’s right. I tell her we’re building our own story.
Later, when Daisy sleeps, I check my phone again. The news headline reads: “Harper’s Global Win Shakes the Industry.” My name sits beside Adrian’s, but this time, mine comes first. I whisper to myself that he can’t touch this anymore.
Still, the threats grow louder. Anonymous emails flood in. Words like “unfit” and “ungrateful” fill my inbox. Maddy tells me to ignore them, but I can’t stop reading. My fingers tremble over the keyboard before deleting everything.
Gabriel calls that night. His voice is low, careful. He says he’s heard about the threats and that he’s increasing my security. I start to protest, but he cuts me off gently, saying it’s not a discussion. His care makes my chest ache. I whisper thank you.
He asks how Daisy’s doing. I tell him she’s fine, just scared sometimes. He says she’ll grow stronger watching me fight. His words hang in the air, heavy and warm. I can almost feel them resting on my skin.
I walk to the window, holding the phone close. I tell him I don’t know what’s next. He says he does. He says what’s next is more. I ask what he means, but he doesn’t answer. He just says, “You’ll see,” before hanging up.
I stare at my reflection in the dark glass. My pulse still races. I press my palm against the window, whispering his name without sound. My heart beats faster, not with fear, but something dangerous.
I sit on the couch, trying to focus on tomorrow’s meeting. My laptop hums softly, the cursor blinking on the screen. Then a message notification appears—no sender, no subject. I click it open without thinking.
It’s a single sentence: It says, “He’s closer than you think.”..........
Chapter 21: The Trap Planned
POV: Adrian Cross
The city looks different when you’re losing.
The lights don’t shine; they sting. Every window in the skyline feels like a reminder of how far I’ve fallen.
I sit alone in my office, sleeves rolled up, staring at numbers that no longer add up. My company—my empire—is collapsing piece by piece. Investors who once called me visionary now call me unstable.
And it all began with her.
Sloane.
Her name crawls through my thoughts like fire through dry wood. The headlines praise her brilliance. Her photos flood every article. Harper foundation—The New Era of Innovation.
That slogan used to be mine, or something close enough.
“She took everything,” I whisper to the empty room. “My clients, my people, my light.”
The silence answers back, heavy and cruel.
The door opens behind me. I don’t turn. Her perfume reaches first—familiar, expensive, dangerous.
“Adrian,” Mia says softly, “you’re still here.”
Her voice is the one thing that can still find me through the noise. I glance over my shoulder. She stands by the doorway in her black coat, hair falling to one side.
“You should come home,” I mutter.
“So should you,” she replies. “But I know you won’t.”
She steps closer. Her heels click against the marble, steady and slow. “You’ve been watching her again, haven’t you?”
I look away. “I’m watching my enemy.”
She crosses her arms. “Your ex-lover.”
I smirk faintly. “Same thing now.”
“Adrian,” she says, voice sharp, “you’re obsessed.”
I turn toward her, tired eyes meeting hers. “She destroyed me.”
“She didn’t destroy you,” Mia says. “You destroyed yourself trying to control her.”
That gets to me. My jaw tightens. “Don’t talk like you know her.”
“I know you,” she says, stepping closer. “And I know what revenge does. You start chasing it until it eats you alive.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Maybe I deserve to be eaten.”
Mia stares at me for a long time, her eyes softening. “You don’t mean that.”
I rise from my chair. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand enough. You still love her.”
Her words cut clean.
“I hate her,” I say flatly.
“Then why do you say her name when you dream?”
That silence between us hurts more than shouting ever could. She moves closer, her fingers brushing my sleeve. “Please, Adrian. Stop before you lose everything.”
I take her hand gently, then let it fall away. “It’s already gone.”
After she leaves, I sit there for hours. The city outside grows quieter, but my thoughts grow louder.
By midnight, I made the decision.
If I can’t stop Sloane by playing fair, then I’ll stop her another way.
The next day, I scroll through applications for a new internship program. Dozens of young faces, eager smiles. Only one catches my eye—Ethan Wells, 22, ambitious, ordinary.
He’s perfect.
I made the call.
Ethan arrives two days later. He’s polite, nervous, hungry for approval. His handshake is too soft, his tie too tight.
“Mr. Adrian,” he says quickly, “thank you for seeing me.”
I study him for a moment before speaking. “You admire Sloane Industries, don’t you?”
He nods. “Yes, sir. Everyone does. She’s brilliant.”
That word—brilliant—makes something twist inside me.
“You want to learn how she built all that?” I ask.
He smiles awkwardly. “Of course, sir. Who wouldn’t?”
I lean forward. “Then you’ll get your chance.”
He blinks, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re going to apply for an internship there,” I say quietly. “At Sloane Industries.”
He hesitates. “Wait—what for?”
“You’ll observe. Watch how she runs things. What she’s working on. Who she talks to. Then you’ll share that information with me.”
His mouth opens slightly, but no words come out.
I continue, “You’ll be paid well—five times what they’ll offer you. You’ll gain experience, connections, and my trust.”
He frowns. “That sounds… risky.”
“Only if you talk too much.”
He swallows hard. “This sounds wrong, sir. Isn’t it?”
“Illegal?” I interrupt. “No. It’s business intelligence. Every company does it; most just pretend they don’t.”
Ethan looks down at his hands, torn between excitement and fear.
“Think about your future,” I say softly. “Do you want to be a follower or someone who wins?”
He glances up. “What if she finds out?”
“She won’t,” I assure him. “Sloane only sees what she wants to see.”
He doesn’t answer. The silence stretches. I can almost see his mind turning—ambition wrestling with conscience.
Finally, he nods. “All right, Mr. Adrian. I’ll do it.”
A small, cold smile touches my lips. “Good.”
He straightens his tie. “So… what should I start with?”
I hand him a small notepad. “Start by getting close. Learn everything about her team, her projects, her clients. I want details. Patterns. Leverage.”
He takes the notepad, his hands trembling slightly. “Yes, sir.”
“Keep it quiet,” I add. “If anyone asks, you’ve never met me.”
He nods again. “Understood.”
As he turns to leave, I say, “Ethan?”
He pauses.
“Don’t forget who gave you your first real chance.”
His eyes flicker—somewhere between fear and respect. “I won’t, sir.”
When the door closes behind him, the office falls silent again. I sit back, the tension in my shoulders finally easing.
The game has begun.
That night, I poured myself a drink and stood by the window. The city glows beneath me, unaware. The wind rattles against the glass. Somewhere out there, Sloane is probably smiling, surrounded by people who believe in her.
Soon, I think, she’ll have no idea what’s coming.
The phone buzzes. A message from Mia.
Are you home?
I stared at the screen for a moment before replying.
Yes.
Another message follows, I miss you. Please don’t do whatever you’re planning.
I put the phone down without answering. I can almost hear her voice saying it, soft and desperate, but it’s too late.
I take a slow sip from the glass, my reflection warped on the window’s surface.
“She had her turn,” I whisper. “Now it’s mine.”
The city clock strikes midnight. Somewhere across town, Ethan Wells drafts his application to Sloane Industries, unaware of how deep he’s stepping.
And I stand here, waiting, knowing this is the beginning of the end—for one of us.
Whether it’s her or me, time will decide.
But I’ve already set the trap.
And she’s already walking into it.
Chapter 22: The Leak Found
POV: Sloane Harper
The week begins with tension in the air. Reports pile on my desk, but something doesn’t add up. Numbers look off, figures that once matched no longer align. I stare at the files, tracing lines with my finger, knowing someone has been inside what belongs to me.
I called my team together for an early meeting. Everyone looks tired but alert. I tell them we might have a leak, and the silence that follows feels sharp. No one speaks for a long moment. I watch their faces, my mind running through names, trying to find the weak point.
Ethan sits near the edge of the room, eyes low. He joined recently, eager and polite. Evelyn had recommended him, saying he reminded her of me when I first started. I believed her then. I’m not so sure now.
I dismissed the team after setting new security steps. When the room empties, I sit alone, fingers drumming against the table. I replay every strange moment in the past month. The late reports. The missing emails. The new silence in certain meetings. My gut says someone’s feeding Adrian.
That night, I opened the firm’s system myself. I go through files, checking access history. Ethan’s name keeps appearing. The timestamps are odd—most of them late at night. I lean back and whisper, “You picked the wrong woman.”
In the morning, I decided to test him. I created a fake document labeled “Private Client Deal.” I fill it with false figures and half-formed ideas. I send it only to him and mark it confidential. My hands shake a little before I hit send. Now I wait.
Two days later, the fake data appears in a rumor blog connected to Adrian. My chest tightens as I read the post. It’s word for word what I gave Ethan. My suspicion hardens into proof. I haven't told anyone yet. I want him to feel safe before I strike.
Evelyn drops by my office later. She says she’s heard whispers that someone’s been leaking internal data. I keep my tone even, saying I’m already handling it. She studies me for a long moment before nodding. I know she senses something, but she trusts me enough not to press.
I prepare for the team meeting at noon. The agenda looks normal, but the real plan isn’t written there. I stand in front of the team, thanking them for their hard work. I talk about progress, clients, and growth. Then my tone changes. I bring up loyalty. I bring up integrity. The room stills.
I walk slowly, stopping behind Ethan’s chair. I tell everyone we’ve discovered a breach and we know who did it. Ethan’s hands tighten on the table. I lift the printed report and drop it in front of him. His name sits in bold across the header. His face drains of color.
He stammers something about misunderstanding. I cut him off. My voice stays calm, almost too calm. I tell him that this firm runs on trust, not pity. He tries again, saying he was manipulated. I don’t blink. I tell him to pack his things and leave now.
The others watch in silence. Some look shocked, others relieved. When security steps in, Ethan doesn’t fight. He looks back once, maybe hoping I’ll change my mind. I don’t. I say, “You worked for Adrian. Now work for no one.” The door closes behind him, ending the noise.
The rest of the day moves fast. I call Gabriel and explain what happened. His tone turns cold, sharp with control. He says he’ll send his IT team to lock every corner of the system. He says Adrian’s trying to get desperate. I answer that I’m not afraid. He says I shouldn’t be—he’s here.
His team works overnight, scanning, patching, and encrypting. I stay in my office, watching the screens flash. Gabriel calls once more before midnight. He asks if I’m okay. I tell him yes, though I’m not sure it’s true. He says, “Then rest. The system’s clean now.”
When I get home, Daisy waits by the couch, clutching her stuffed toy. Her eyes are wide, restless. She says she dreamt of Adrian calling her name. My heart twists. I tell her he can’t reach her anymore. She nods but doesn’t believe it. I hold her until she sleeps.
Later, I sit by her bed, watching her small hands curl around her blanket. I whisper promises into the dark. I tell her I’ll keep her safe. I tell her no one will take her from me. The words steady me more than they do her.
In the morning, the press had already picked up the story. “CEO Fires Mole Linked to Rival,” one headline reads. Reporters crowd my inbox with requests for comment. I ignore most of them, sending one short line to the few that matter: Integrity wins. Always.
At the office, the mood shifts. The team works faster, harder. Whispers of fear turn to loyalty. Evelyn smiles faintly when she walks by, saying I did what had to be done. I nod, though my stomach still feels tight. Victory never feels soft.
Gabriel arrives that afternoon, quiet but firm. He steps into my office without knocking, his gaze heavy. He says Ethan was paid through offshore accounts traced to Adrian’s firm. I bite my lip, trying not to curse. He says the payments stopped yesterday. I ask if that means Adrian’s backing off. Gabriel says men like him don’t stop—they pause.
I thank him and start to walk him out, but he stops near the door. He looks at me and says, “You’re stronger than you think.” I almost laugh, but the sound doesn’t come. I tell him I’m just tired of being a target. He says that’s what power looks like—being worth the shot.
When he leaves, I lean on the desk and close my eyes. My mind races through everything—Ethan’s betrayal, Adrian’s reach, Gabriel’s steady calm. My chest aches with a strange mix of fear and anger. I whisper, “You’ll regret this, Adrian.”
That night, Daisy wakes crying again. She says she saw her father in her dream, standing outside her window. I check the locks twice and sit beside her until she sleeps. My hands won’t stop shaking. I whisper that dreams can’t hurt her, but I know lies when I speak them.
The next morning, I found another message in my email. No sender, no subject, just a sentence: You can’t win this. I stare at it for a long time before deleting it. My heart beats fast, but my mind stays cold. If Adrian wants a war, he’ll get one.
At the firm, I called a full staff meeting. I thank them for their loyalty and announce new rules for data access. Everyone gets stricter roles, tighter boundaries. Some groan quietly, but no one dares argue. Trust has become a currency now.
Gabriel joins later via video call. His face fills the screen, voice low and steady. He says the systems are sealed, but we should expect another attempt. I nod, saying we’ll be ready. He smiles slightly, saying he likes that tone in me. I end the call before answering.
Maddy calls in the evening, warning me that Adrian’s lawyers are stirring again. She says they might reopen the custody issue. My throat tightens. I ask if they have any ground left. She says not much, but enough to make noise. I tell her to fight harder. She says she already is.
After the call, I sit by the window, watching the city lights blink in the distance. My phone buzzes again—Gabriel. He says his team caught an attempt to access our files last night. He says they traced it to Adrian’s office network. My grip tightens around the phone. He says he’ll handle it. I tell him I’ll handle Adrian myself.
I hang up and stare into the dark. Daisy murmurs in her sleep from the next room. My pulse slows as I whisper to no one, “He wants a game. I’ll finish it.”
The night drags on. I open my laptop and draft a statement for the press about our new security protocols. Halfway through, my cursor freezes. The screen flashes once, then a line of text appears.
“You think firing Ethan stopped me?”
My breath catches. The cursor blinks beside the message, waiting. I try to close the window, but it won’t move. Another line appears.
“I can still reach you.”
The screen goes black. My reflection stares back at me. I whisper his name once, low and fierce. The lights flicker in the room.
Somewhere outside, my phone rings again. The number isn’t saved. My hand hovers over it, my chest tightening.
I answer.
No one speaks.
Then a voice I know too well says, “Round two, Sloane.”
Chapter 23: The Scientist’s Game
POV: Sloane Harper
Nathan called again. His voice sounded too calm. “Sloane, it’s been a while. I wanted to invite you to my gala next week. It’s for innovation and rebuilding trust in science.”
I stayed silent for a moment. “You think people still trust you enough to attend?”
He sighed. “People forget faster than they forgive. But I’m rebuilding. You should come. You’ll meet global investors.”
“I’m not coming to rescue your reputation,” I said.
“You don’t need to. Just come and talk about yours,” he said softly.
I hesitated. “Fine. I’ll come. But keep Adrian’s name out of your mouth.”
“I learned that the hard way,” he said before ending the call.
That evening, I told Gabriel. He frowned. “Nathan again? He was Adrian’s puppet six months ago.”
“I know,” I said. “But this is business. I can’t ignore a room full of investors.”
He crossed his arms. “You’re walking into a setup.”
“I’ve faced worse,” I said. “And this time, I’ll control the narrative.”
He stared at me for a moment. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t go alone.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, though my stomach twisted a little.
At the gala, Nathan met me at the entrance. His suit was sharp, his smile practiced. “You came. I knew you would.”
“You invited me, Nathan,” I said. “Let’s skip the charm.”
He laughed quietly. “Still the same Sloane. You never let me breathe.”
“You don’t deserve air after what you did,” I said.
He held up his hands. “Fair. But tonight isn’t about the past. It’s about second chances.”
I followed him into the hall. Every voice I heard carried a calculation. I forced a smile and started talking to people, names I could use later.
Nathan stayed close. “See? They still respect you. You’re stronger than the rumors.”
“I didn’t come for approval,” I said. “I came to make connections.”
“Then let me help,” he offered. “I owe you that much.”
“You owe me silence,” I said.
He smiled faintly. “You’re still sharp.”
An hour later, he approached me again. “Sloane, let’s talk somewhere quieter.”
“I don’t need another deal,” I said.
“This isn’t about business,” he said. “It’s about clearing my name.”
I followed him to a small corner table. “Go on,” I said.
He leaned in. “I was framed, Sloane. Adrian set me up to take the fall for his financial leaks. He wanted me disgraced so no one would link him to the bribes.”
I folded my arms. “You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth,” he said. “I lost everything. My lab, my investors, my reputation. I want it back.”
“And you think I can help you?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “You’re respected. If you’re seen working with me, doors open again.”
I shook my head. “You’re not rebuilding your name through mine.”
His tone hardened. “You’re acting like you never made mistakes.”
“I didn’t betray people who trusted me,” I said.
He clenched his jaw. “You think you’re better?”
“I think I learned faster,” I said.
He exhaled slowly. “At least hear me out. I have data on Adrian—real proof of his offshore accounts. I can give it to you.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why now?”
“Because I’m done being silent,” he said. “Help me stand again, and I’ll help you destroy him.”
I leaned back. “You’re lying.”
“Then check the file I sent you,” he said.
When I looked at my phone, there was indeed a new folder. My heart skipped. “If this is fake, I’ll end you publicly,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “If it’s real, you’ll owe me.”
I turned to walk away. “I don’t owe traitors anything.”
Behind me, he said, “You’ll see. Adrian doesn’t sleep when you win.”
Outside, I called Gabriel. “He’s trying to use me again.”
“What did he say?” Gabriel asked.
“He claims he has proof against Adrian. I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Don’t. He could’ve planted something,” Gabriel warned.
“He looked desperate,” I said.
“That’s what makes him dangerous,” he replied. “Desperate people play dirtier.”
I paused. “Then I’ll make sure he never rises again.”
Gabriel’s voice softened. “Be careful, Sloane.”
“I always am,” I said before hanging up.
Later that night, I sat in my home office and opened the folder. It was password-protected. A note appeared: We’re not enemies anymore.
I sighed. “You never stop playing games, Nathan.”
I sent the file to Gabriel instead. Run a check. Don’t open it directly.
He replied immediately. Already on it.
I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Why now, Nathan? What’s your real angle?”
My phone buzzed again—a message from an unknown number. You shouldn’t have sent it to him.
I froze. “What?”
Another message appeared. You don’t learn, Sloane.
The next morning, Gabriel called early. “That file was booby-trapped. Tracking software. He was monitoring who opened it.”
My pulse jumped. “You’re saying he traced me?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said. “He knows you forwarded it. He’s smarter than he used to be.”
I clenched my fist. “He’s still working with Adrian.”
“Maybe,” Gabriel said. “Or maybe he’s running his own game.”
“I’m tired of being their pawn,” I said.
“Then make the next move,” Gabriel said. “But quietly.”
That afternoon, Nathan showed up at my office unannounced. My assistant looked nervous when she called. “He says it’s urgent.”
I told her, “Send him in.”
He walked in with a forced smile. “I thought we could talk like adults.”
I stood. “You tried to track my system.”
He didn’t flinch. “I had to make sure the file didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“You mean Gabriel’s hands?” I asked.
He tilted his head. “You trust him more than you trust logic.”
“Logic doesn’t lie to people,” I said.
He stepped closer. “You’re making enemies you don’t need.”
“And you’re one of them,” I said. “Get out.”
He smirked faintly. “You’ll call me soon. You always do when the walls close in.”
“I’m not the woman you used to manipulate,” I said.
He nodded slowly. “We’ll see.”
After he left, Maddy walked into my office. “He’s back in the headlines,” she said, holding her tablet. “Apparently, he’s launching a new biotech firm.”
“With whose money?” I asked.
“Unknown investors,” she said. “But the article hints at a silent partner.”
I frowned. “Adrian.”
She looked uneasy. “If he’s back, this means Adrian’s not done.”
I tapped my desk. “Let them come. I’ll be ready.”
That night, I checked on Daisy before bed. My phone buzzed again—Gabriel.
He said, “Nathan’s new company is registered under Adrian’s offshore shell. He’s definitely working with him again.”
I closed my eyes. “He just tried to walk back into my life.”
“Don’t meet him again,” Gabriel said.
“I won’t,” I whispered. “But I’ll use him.”
He paused. “What are you planning?”
“I’ll attend his launch event,” I said. “If he’s working with Adrian, I’ll make him slip.”
“That’s risky,” Gabriel said.
“So was trusting him once,” I replied. “I learned from that.”
He sighed. “Just don’t go alone.”
“I won’t,” I said, but I already knew I would.
---
The next day, an invitation arrived at my email. Nathan Quinn requests your presence at the unveiling of Orion Biotech.
Attached was a personal message: This time, let’s build something real.
I stared at the screen for a long time. My fingers hovered over the delete button, but I didn’t press it.
I whispered, “You really want another game, Nathan?”
My phone buzzed again. A text appeared from Gabriel: Don’t go tonight.
Before I could reply, another message arrived—from Nathan’s number.
You’ll want to see who Adrian brings with him.
My heart stopped.
“Adrian’s coming?” I muttered.
Then a final message appeared, just one line.
And he’s not coming alone.
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