4. The Unraveling

Amelia sat in the dim glow of her apartment, the only light coming from her laptop screen. The city outside buzzed with life, but inside, there was nothing but silence and the eerie glow reflecting off her wide, unblinking eyes. Her eyes traced over the email thread she had uncovered from Adrian’s flash drive, reading the ominous phrases over and over again.

Cavendish Project: Phase One.

She scrolled through the emails again, each vague phrase more unsettling than the last. “Acquisition strategies.” “Control measures.” “Necessary eliminations.” Her gut twisted. It didn’t sound like corporate restructuring, it sounded like war.

She leaned back against the couch, rubbing her temples. What the hell is Adrian up to? More importantly, why was Ethan’s name all over these exchanges? The logical part of her brain screamed at her to stop, to shut the laptop, forget what she had seen, and disappear from this twisted game before it swallowed her whole. 

But another part, the part that refused to be used and discarded, demanded answers. Logic had nothing to do with this. This wasn’t just about a job anymore. This was personal.

Her phone buzzed, breaking the suffocating silence. Adrian.

“Have you made your decision?”

She stared at the message, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She should say no. She should run as far as possible from this game Adrian Black was playing.

But instead, she typed: “We need to talk. In person.”

A response came almost immediately. “Rooftop bar. 9 pm.”

The next evening, Amelia stood on the rooftop of an exclusive bar, the city sprawling beneath her like a bed of glittering stars, her heels clicking against the stone floor. The air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of traffic, faint scent of expensive whiskey and burning cigars and the soft clinking of glasses from the bar behind her.

Adrian was already there, a glass in hand, his dark suit blending into the night, exuding the same unshakable composure he always carried. He turned as she approached. His sharp gray eyes flicked over her, reading every shift in her posture.

"Amelia," he greeted smoothly, his voice like silk over steel. "I was starting to think you'd keep me waiting."

She slid into the chair opposite him, forcing a neutral expression. "Wouldn’t want to disappoint you."

A slow smile played on his lips. "Wouldn’t be the first to try."

A waiter approached, but Amelia waved him off. Her appetite had long vanished.

“You wanted to talk. That usually means one of two things: you’re accepting my offer, or you’re about to waste my time.” Adrian leaned back, watching her closely. "So, what’s on your mind?"

“I don’t waste time, Adrian. And I don’t make decisions without understanding exactly what I’m getting into.” Amelia met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. She kept her voice measured. "I’ve been thinking about your offer. About what it means to work for you."

Adrian smirked, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “That’s a dangerous mindset. It makes people ask too many questions.”

She leaned in slightly. “And what happens to people who ask too many questions?”

He studied her, his expression unreadable. “That depends on the questions.”

She swirled the water in her glass, choosing her words carefully. "You’re a man who doesn’t do anything without a reason. If you wanted me on your team, you’d already have me there. But instead, you’re waiting."

He took a sip of whiskey, his eyes never leaving hers. "Go on."

"You’re waiting to see if I’ll ask the right questions," she said. "To see if I’ll play the game the way you want me to."

His lips quivered in amusement. "And what do you think the right questions are?"

Amelia met his gaze, unwavering. "Cavendish Project: Phase One."

There it was, a flicker, so fast she almost missed it. But it was there.

Adrian tilted his head slightly. "That’s an interesting place to start."

"You didn’t answer me," she noted. “Tell me, Adrian. Why does Black Enterprises have an entire file tracking Cavendish? Why are there mentions of ‘necessary eliminations’ in an internal memo?”

He leaned forward, placing his glass on the table with deliberate ease. "Because I don’t answer to anyone, Amelia. Least of all, someone is still deciding whether they want to be on my team."

"So it’s a test," she said.

His gaze darkened, though his expression remained unreadable. "It’s an opportunity. I get the feeling you don’t trust me, Amelia,” he murmured. “That’s a shame. I never make bad investments.”

“You think I’m an investment?” she asked, arching a brow.

“I think you’re stalling,” he countered, watching her closely. “That’s not like you.”

Amelia sipped her drink, unfazed. “I’m being thorough.”

Adrian leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Or you found something you weren’t supposed to.”

A chill ran down her spine. Did he know? Was this a warning? A test?

Before she could respond, a deep voice cut through the air.

“Interrupting something?”

Amelia turned to see Victor, Adrian’s right-hand man, standing a few feet away. His presence was unsettling, his stance too controlled, too deliberate. His dark eyes flicked between them, lingering on Amelia with an almost amused expression.

“Victor,” Adrian greeted, his voice neutral. “What can I do for you?”

Victor ignored him, focusing solely on Amelia. “Curiosity is a dangerous thing, Ms. Hayes. People who dig too deep tend to find things they wish they hadn’t.”

She held his gaze, refusing to show weakness. “Sounds like a threat. People who underestimate me tend to regret it.”

Victor smirked. “Just a friendly warning.”

Then, Adrian finally spoke, his tone smooth but firm. "Victor, I think that’s enough."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension.

Adrian exhaled a quiet chuckle, but he didn’t interfere, letting the tension simmer between them. Then, as if deciding the conversation was over, he stood.

“Make your choice, Amelia,” he said smoothly. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

He walked away, Victor trailing behind him.

As Amelia stepped into the parking garage, she barely had a moment to breathe before a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

"We need to talk."

She turned sharply. Ethan. He was leaning against her car, arms crossed, his face shadowed with something that looked too much like concern.

"Seriously? You again?" she snapped. "You’re lurking in parking garages now?"

Ethan ignored the jab, stepping closer. His expression was unlike anything she’d seen before, tense, almost afraid.

"It’s about Adrian," he said.

Amelia let out a bitter laugh. "Save it. You lost the right to warn me about anything."

Ethan grabbed her wrist, not hard, but enough to make her stop.

"You have no idea what you’re getting into," he said, his voice lower, urgent.

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Oh, let me guess. Adrian is the devil. He’s manipulating me. And you, my dear, cheating, lying ex-husband, are suddenly my savior?”

Ethan exhaled sharply. “This isn’t about us, Amelia. This is bigger than you think.”

She yanked her arm free. "Enlighten me." She crossed her arms.

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Years ago, Adrian Black nearly destroyed a corporation the same way he’s circling Cavendish now."

Amelia frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"He doesn’t just take over companies," Ethan said. "He dismantles them. He finds weaknesses, exploits them, and when he’s done, there’s nothing left. And he’s not just coming for Cavendish. He’s coming for you."

Amelia frowned. “And where do I fit into this?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “You’re the key. I don’t know how, but I know he didn’t choose you randomly. This isn’t about hiring you. It’s about using you.”

A chill crept over her. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Ethan shot back. “Ask yourself why Adrian Black, one of the most ruthless businessmen in the country, is suddenly so interested in you.”

A chill crept down her spine. "What do you mean?"

He clenched his jaw. "I can’t say more. Not yet. But I’m telling you, if you stay near Adrian Black, you’ll regret it."

She shook her head. "I don’t need you to protect me, Ethan."

"You do if you want to survive," he said.

For a second, just a second, she saw something real in his eyes. Not arrogance. Not manipulation. Just fear.

Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, his expression tightening.

"I have to go," he said. "But Amelia, please. Walk away before it’s too late."

She stared at him, searching for deception in his face. But for the first time in years, she saw something else instead. And that scared her more than anything. Then he was gone, leaving her standing in the dim light of the garage, her heart pounding.

Amelia doesn’t sleep that night. She sits in the darkness, staring at the contract Adrian gave her, the email thread on her laptop, and the unanswered questions swirling in her mind.