Feel free to leave your thoughts...
I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His words hung in the air like the moment before lightning strikes, silent, electric, inevitable leaving panic. My stomach twisted, but I forced my body to stay still. Calm. Isabella still had the reins.“Oh?” I asked, tilting my head just slightly, inviting him to finish while buying myself seconds to recalibrate. “And where’s that?” Derek set the glass down gently on the coffee table, the sound barely audible, but in the quiet, it sounded like a gunshot. His hands didn’t return to his lap. They stayed on his knees, fingers twitching once before curling into loose fists and gelntly, with a smile relaxed into the couch.“My dreams.” I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. Of course. Of all the answers, he went with the most convenient fiction. But as he smiled, half-apology, half-invitation,I saw it for what it was a shield. A softer lie to protect him from whatever truth was clawing at the edges of his mind. My panic floated away, carried off like smoke
I had to get out of here. The walls were too thin. The air too stale with boardroom lies and glassy smiles. Every hallway echoed with the ghosts of who they made him be, Derek Ashford, heir to the dynasty, shaped like a weapon, polished like a statue. But that wasn’t the man I needed. I needed the version unraveling at the seams. The version who wanted to be seen instead of managed. Who questioned instead of performed. And that man wouldn’t find himself here. Not under Camila’s hawk-eyes or Lucas’s fake fatherly nods. No. I needed him far away from this place.So I disappeared. No warning, no dramatic exits. Just an empty desk and my house key I foolesly left behind. It was a breadcrumb, subtle but deliberate. Something only he would notice. A quiet invitation. Come find me. Because I knew he would.Derek needed me now. Not for press releases or spin strategies but for something raw. He was falling apart, and looking for confort. Good. Let him fall. Let him crumble. And when he does,
The cursor blinked on my screen like a heartbeat, steady and expectant. I stared at the code, the pitch deck, the mock-ups I was supposedly refining for Derek’s next clean project. But my focus was elsewhere, pulled like a magnet toward the shadows that lived between truth and legacy. I wasn’t here for the future Ashford Global wanted to build. I was here for the one they buried.The message from Levy came in ten minutes later.“You’re in. Audio’s patchy, but I’ve got the feed. Want it live or recorded?”“Live. Patch it into my screen. And don’t drop signal, not even for a second.” Suddenly the mouse on my computer screen started moving on its own, folders begin to open up and a picture popped up. I quickly connected my earphones and started listening Lucas, Camila and Derek speaking. “This is getting out of hand. The board’s nervous. If Mark’s mess spreads any deeper, it’s not just shareholders we lose, it’s control.” Camila said as she paced around the room while Lucas and Derek
The silence that followed the question was heavier than any verdict. For a moment, even the cameras forgot to click. Derek’s hand, still gripping the edge of the podium, twitched. Just once. Barely noticeable. But I saw it. The mask cracked. He cleared his throat, jaw tightening before releasing, and leaned ever so slightly forward.“I understand the speculation,” he began, voice carefully measured, “but I won’t comment on cases unrelated to today’s breach. The incident involving Jackson Carter was thoroughly reviewed by legal and closed. Any attempt to connect the two is reckless and disrespectful to those involved.”A practiced line. A well worn shield. But even the best rehearsals stumble when ghosts show up. And the memory of my brother sturded up something in him, something he is trying really hard to push back but the reporter persisted. “But don’t you think the public deserves to know if Ashford Global’s culture of silence contributed to both these scandals?” Derek paused only
Today is going to be a good day.Today, the first one is going to fall.Mark Duke.It just so happened that someone leaked the evidence of him selling confidential information about the Ashford Global to not only several competitors but also leaking companies' tips for winning contracts. Perhaps whatever punishment falls on his back will not be as severe as I'd like, but after Levy went over all of his digital work and hasn't found anything worse, I was ready to settle for this. Someone needed to start paying for what happened to Jackson, and it's easy enough not to be traced back to me.So I walked into the company as if it were any ordinary day, it was early, and me not seeing the news wouldn't be suspicious. But people were buzzing, and walking fast, and I acted confused."What is happening?" I ask as I stop at the assistant desk.The assistant, Rebecca, a young woman with sharp eyeliner and sharper instincts, looked up from her phone, wide-eyed. Her fingers twitched nervously like
Dining at the Ashford mansion would put five-star restaurants to shame. Everything was, because it had to be, simply exquisite. From the appetizer to the last course, maids moved around at Camila's simple yet strict gaze, while the conversation was light, elegant, and shallow."So, Isabella..." Camila said as she lowered the glass of wine from her lips to the table. "What other interest do you have besides architecture. A young woman such as yourself must have more than just blueprints and building codes occupying her mind." The question wasn’t innocent. Camila’s voice, though velvet-smooth, held the weight of a scalpel...sharp, intentional, designed to slice beneath the surface."Well, work does take a big amount of my time, but it's what I love doing. I love creating things with strong, everlasting bones, leaving my mark. But I enjoy art, sports, traveling when time and work permit, doing work for needed foundations." Camila tilted her head slightly, the corners of her lips curving