Nobela ni Valerie Ashibeshibe

Leila stood in front of the tall mirror in Adrian’s bedroom, her fingers tightening around the edge of the marble vanity. Her reflection didn’t look like her anymore. Not the woman who arrived in New York with nothing but a suitcase, vengeance, and fire in her chest. That woman had a plan. A purpose. Now? She couldn't tell which strings she was pulling and which ones were pulling her because she was now so deeply entangled in a web. Her door creaked behind her. She didn’t need to turn to know it was Adrian. “I didn’t expect you up,” he said quietly. She met his gaze in the mirror. “I couldn’t sleep.” He looked like he hadn’t either. His tie hung loose around his neck, shirt sleeves rolled up, hair disheveled like he’d run his hands through it a thousand times. “You were right,” he said after a pause. Leila arched a brow. “That’s a first.” Adrian gave a tired smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “About Martin. About there being more. I think the board has at least one

The video still echoed in Leila’s mind long after the screen went black. Since then, Adrian had spoken nothing. He stood by the window, staring into the city like it held answers the video hadn’t given him. Leila got up from the sofa. “Adrian.” His shoulders were tense. Rigid. Like he was holding back a scream. She stepped closer. “Talk to me.” He turned slowly, his eyes dark. “My entire life… I thought he was a ruthless bastard. But he was trying to protect me.” “You know the truth now,” she said gently. Adrian laughed bitterly. I don't, no. I know pieces of it. Just enough to realize I’ve been playing a rigged game since the beginning.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “If what Julian said is true, someone inside my company is still working with Cross.” Leila’s voice dropped. “Then we need to find them.” Adrian looked at her then—really looked at her. He murmured, "You keep saying we." “Even now.” “I’m in this,” she said. “With you.” His jaw tightened, a

Adrian didn’t sleep.Not because of nightmares.But because of the truth that refused to come quietly.The photo of his father with Nathan Cross lay on the table like a ghost. No date, no context—just a warning."You don’t know the truth."He hated how right that voice was.He didn’t.Not about his father. Not about Cross.And—if he was being honest with himself—not even about Leila.He glanced down the hall toward her room, where light still spilled beneath the door.She was awake too.Of course she was.A Late-Night ReckoningLeila opened the door before he could knock.She stood there in one of his shirts—barefoot, hair tousled, eyes stormy.“I thought you might come,” she said softly.He hesitated. “Can we talk?”She stepped aside without a word.The moment he entered, the air between them shifted—like something raw and unfinished had followed him in.Leila sat on the edge of the bed. “So. What are you afraid of?”He looked at her. “What if my father was dirty? What if he was in o

Twenty minutes had passed since Adrian Kane had spoken. He sat in his penthouse office, staring at the old file folder Selene had retrieved from his father’s archives—something they never should’ve found. A sealed deposition. From over twenty years ago. since the year his father passed away. Leila kept a close eye on him while she stood near the bar. She had never seen Adrian in this way before. Unraveled. Quiet. Vulnerable. Not the sharp billionaire who could destroy a competitor’s fortune with a single phone call. He was once a boy like this. the one who remained perplexed as to whether or not his father's passing was truly an accident. And now, thanks to Julian’s cruel little hint, the doubts were clawing their way to the surface. “Adrian,” Leila said gently, “what’s in the file?” He didn’t answer. Just slid it across the table. She opened it slowly. A single sheet of paper fell out. It was a sworn statement from a former Kane Corporation accountant—one who’d left the

For the first time in weeks, Adrian Kane was uncertain. Not of his power. Not from his wealth. But of the people around him. Because someone close to him—someone inside his circle—was feeding Nathan Cross exactly what he needed. And that changed everything. He stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of Kane Tower, hands in his pockets, staring out at the glittering Manhattan skyline. “You think it’s someone on your board?” Leila asked from behind him. He turned. She still had that determined expression on her face, which he was beginning to want. She wasn’t breaking. If anything, the more they cornered her, the harder she fought. “No,” he said finally. “It’s someone closer.” Leila frowned. “Closer than the board?” Adrian gave a short nod. “It has to be.” --- Suspicions and Setups By afternoon, Adrian had narrowed it down to four names. All trusted. All dangerous. He and Leila huddled in his office, flipping through files, call logs, and emails, looking for inconsi

Adrian hadn’t slept either. He stood in the penthouse’s study, staring at the monitors lining the wall, his fists clenched at his sides. Each screen showed fragments of Nathan Cross’s digital trail—emails, financial records, dummy accounts, suspicious shell companies. He was good. But not that good. Leila stepped inside quietly, wrapped in one of his shirts, her hair messy from a restless night. “You’re still up,” she said softly. Adrian didn’t turn. “So are you.” She came up beside him, eyes scanning the lines of code, tracking the digital ghost Nathan had become. “How much have you found?” Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Enough to know he’s bluffing. At least partially.” “Meaning?” He finally looked at her. “Meaning he has something—certainly something harmful—but not nearly as much as he claims. If he really had a smoking gun, he would’ve leaked it already.” Leila folded her arms. “So he’s trying to shake us with fear.” Adrian gave a small, bitter smile. “Classic Cross