Chapter 5. I Choose Myself

The noise didn’t fade. It doubled, tripled—like someone had turned up the volume on chaos. Reporters weren’t just asking questions anymore. They were hurling accusations.

“Mr. Cole, did you falsify medical records?”

“Was the withdrawal forged after death?”

“Miss Hart, were you aware of this?”

Lila couldn’t even hear herself breathe. All she saw was the glare from the phone screen nearby: her father’s name, Lucien’s signature, a date stamped two days after her dad died. It looked bad. Worse than bad—it looked intentional. Criminal.

Lucien’s face had gone so still, it scared her more than if he’d exploded. “That’s not the date,” he said again, but quieter, almost to himself.

Nobody cared. Cameras kept rolling. Facts weren’t trending—scandal was. Daniel stood across the lobby, watching the whole thing like he was at a bonfire. He didn’t look shocked. He looked—satisfied.

And that’s when something inside Lila just… snapped. Not heartbreak. Not fury. Clarity.

Lucien moved toward her, just a step. “This isn’t what I sent to legal.”

She believed him. And that surprised her. Not because she fully trusted him—she didn’t. But his panic wasn’t an act. It was real. He’d lost control.

Daniel hadn’t just leaked files. He’d changed something. If he could fake a date once, he’d do it again.

Reporters swarmed closer. Security tried to hold them back, barely managing.

“Miss Hart, do you stand by Mr. Cole?”

“Is this a fake engagement to control the narrative?”

“Were you paid?”

That last word hit her like a slap. Paid.

Her father’s face flashed in her mind—hospital bed, oxygen mask, that tired little smile.

She stepped forward. Lucien reached out for her arm on instinct. She moved before he could touch her.

The room quieted, just for a moment.

“I don’t stand by anyone,” she said. Her voice wasn’t loud, but everyone heard her. “I stand by facts.”

Now every camera zeroed in. She felt it—the weight of all those eyes. She didn’t look at Lucien or Daniel.

“I watched my father sign a withdrawal form,” she said. “He asked to leave the trial. He was scared. He said something wasn’t right.”

A ripple ran through the crowd. Lucien stiffened. Daniel’s expression twitched.

“You’re saying he confided in you?” a reporter pressed.

“Yes.”

Not the whole truth. But not a lie, either. Her dad had hesitated. He’d asked questions. She was forging the truth into something stronger.

“And if that form was altered,” she said, slow and careful, “then someone inside this hospital committed fraud.”

That one landed. Gasps. Lucien turned his head, slow and deliberate. Daniel’s jaw locked.

“I am formally requesting an independent forensic audit of all clinical trial records related to my father’s case,” she said. Her voice didn’t shake.

Silence. Then the room exploded again.

“You’re accusing the board?”

“Are you accusing Mr. Cole?”

“I’m accusing whoever changed that date,” she shot back.

She finally turned and looked at Lucien. “If you’re innocent, you’ll agree.”

Everyone waited. Lucien didn’t flinch.

“Yes,” he said. It cut through the noise. “Yes. I’ll authorize a third-party audit right now.”

The lobby went wild. Daniel’s phone buzzed nonstop. He wasn’t smiling anymore. He was recalculating.

Lila wasn’t defending Lucien, and she wasn’t taking Daniel’s side either. She was pulling the rug out from under both of them.

A reporter yelled, “Miss Hart, do you believe Mr. Cole altered the date?”

She let the silence stretch. Then: “I believe someone is manipulating this situation.”

Her eyes flicked to Daniel. He caught it. He knew. She knew. Not everything, but enough.

Lucien said quietly, “You just declared war on my board.”

She didn’t look at him. “Good.”

Security hustled them into a private conference room. The doors slammed shut. The roar outside got softer, but it was still there.

Lucien faced her first. “You blindsided me.”

She didn’t flinch. “You were already blindsided.”

He searched her face. “You think Daniel altered the file.”

She nodded. “I think Daniel moved too fast.”

“And you think I didn’t.”

She met his eyes. “If you were guilty, you wouldn’t have looked so surprised.”

Something shifted in his expression—maybe relief, maybe something sharper, like respect.

The door swung open. Daniel walked in. No one stopped him. Of course not.

“You just made everything complicated,” he said, calm as ever.

She stared him down. “You complicated it first.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You were supposed to let him fall.”

“I’m not your weapon.”

His jaw tightened. Lucien just watched, silent.

Daniel stepped closer. “You think a forensic audit will protect you? Do you have any idea how long that takes? Months. Years. Evidence disappears.”

She smiled, just a little. “Unless it’s already preserved.”

Both men froze. She reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, opened a secure cloud folder, and turned the screen to face them.

“I copied the archive server before the leak,” she said.

Lucien’s brows pulled together.

Daniel’s calm slipped, just for a moment.

“You what?” he said.

“The full log,” she repeated. “Every version. Every single change. Every user ID that touched my father’s file.”

No one spoke. The silence pressed in.

“I didn’t trust either of you,” she went on.

Lucien let out a slow breath.

Daniel looked at her like he’d never really seen her before.

“You’re bluffing,” he said, voice low.

She tapped her screen.

The access history lit up for all to see.

Timestamps. Edits. Revisions.

At the top, one entry glowed. Two hours before the leak. A date change. Admin override.

Daniel’s face stayed blank.

The air in the room dropped a few degrees.

“You changed it,” she said.

Lucien’s eyes shot to Daniel.

Daniel exhaled, steadying himself.

“You don’t know the scale of this,” he said.

She met his stare. “No. You don’t know me.”

Something shifted in the air.

Lucien stepped forward, just a bit. “You forged the date,” he said, eyes on Daniel.

Daniel’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. “I fixed it.”

“You set me up.”

“I moved things along.”

Lucien’s jaw tensed.

“You used her.”

Daniel looked at Lila. “I gave you leverage.”

She shook her head. “You tried to force my hand. Into marrying him.”

Daniel didn’t bother to deny it. No point anymore.

The board, the media, the audit—everything was already in motion. Lila had just thrown fuel on the fire.

She locked her phone.

“There will be an independent audit,” she said. “If either of you interferes, I release the log everywhere.”

Lucien’s eyes darkened.

Daniel’s gaze sharpened, calculating.

“You’re threatening us both?” Lucien’s voice dropped.

“Yes.”

Her answer didn’t waver.

Something new settled over the room. Not fear. Not attraction. Not yet. Power.

Daniel studied her, eyes narrowing.

“You just made yourself the most dangerous person in this building.”

She took a step closer.

“Stop underestimating me.”

Lucien watched, like he was finally seeing the game shift.

Daniel stepped back, gave a small nod.

“Fine. Play it your way.”

He turned to the door, then paused.

“One question, Lila.”

She waited.

“If the audit clears Lucien… what then?”

Lucien stopped breathing.

She glanced between them, then smiled—not sweet. Calculating.

“Then I’ll find out who’s really in charge.”

Silence.

Daniel left. The door clicked shut.

Lucien stared at her.

“You think there’s someone above him.”

She nodded, voice soft. “I know there is. Daniel doesn’t look like a man in control. He looks like a man racing to win before someone else does.”

Lucien considered her words. “You’ve put yourself in the middle of all of this.”

She met his gaze. “I was already there.”

A long pause.

He spoke again, quieter. “You shocked us.”

“Good.”

Outside, the media storm only got louder.

And somewhere higher up, someone realized Lila Hart wasn’t going to break.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

She answered, steady.

A distorted voice came through. “You should have taken the marriage deal.”

Her blood went cold.

“Who is this?”

Silence.

Then: “You’re digging into a trial no one wanted found.”

The line died.

Lucien watched her face shift.

“What?”

She looked up, slower now.

For the first time, she wasn’t thinking about Daniel. Or Lucien.

She was thinking about something bigger.

“There’s someone else,” she said.

And somewhere in the building, behind closed doors, another move was already being made.