Chapter 59

Lila’s POV

The first thing I noticed was the tone of his voice.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t sharp. It was… controlled. The kind of control that told you someone was already three steps into a plan you didn’t know existed.

I had opened Drew’s office door with the easy confidence of someone walking into neutral territory. I had a folder tucked under my arm and a neatly practiced reason for being there, a request for his review before the afternoon meeting. But the moment I heard him speaking, the air in the room shifted.

“…That’s why I’m telling you before the deal closes,” his voice was saying, low and precise. “You deserve to know the man you’re trusting is planning to cut you out.”

I froze just inside the door.

He was facing away from me, angled toward the wall of glass behind his desk, the city skyline catching in the sharp lines of his suit. His tone didn’t waver as he continued, “I’ll send over the details. We can make sure he walks away with nothing.”

Something inside me reacted before my mind caught up. My grip on the folder tightened, the corners biting into my palm.

Max.

It had to be about Max.

Drew hadn’t noticed me yet. I took half a step back, instinctively ready to retreat. “I can come back…”

“Stay,” he said without looking up.

One word. No edge, no force. But it landed like a command, rooting me in place.

I crossed the carpet to the chair opposite his desk, the faint hum of the air conditioning suddenly loud in my ears. Sitting felt like a risk, like it would trap me in whatever this conversation was, but I did it anyway.

He didn’t lower his voice.

“Yes… exactly. Max Archer. That’s why I’m telling you now, before the deal closes,” he said to whoever was on the other end. “You deserve to know the man you’re trusting is planning to cut you out.”

My chest went tight. There was no need to guess anymore.

Max.

Of course it was Max.

I suspected for weeks, played my part, laid bait, smiled like I was oblivious but hearing Drew say his name like this, in that cold, unshakable tone made it all feel heavier.

I watched him from across the desk. The way his hand rested on the armrest, fingers loose but ready. The way his gaze never wavered, even though I couldn’t hear the other voice. This wasn’t anger. This was a well calculated method.

When he ended the call, it was with a simple, “Good, I will keep you updated.”

The phone clicked into its cradle, and his eyes finally met mine. “That was about Max,” he said.

I didn’t bother pretending to be surprised. “I figured.”

“And yes,” he continued, leaning back slightly, “it’s part of my plan to oust him.”

What followed was ten minutes of dismantling Max’s image, piece by piece. Drew spoke like he was listing facts from a case file; the Italian collection, the investors, the inflated profit Max planned to keep for himself.

I listened, my mind struggling to reconcile the Max I’d once known, the boy who’d made me laugh in school hallways, the friend who’d felt safe to trust with the man Drew was describing now.

It was almost too clean, too deliberate. Max wasn’t just opportunistic. He was calculated. Every smile, every easy conversation, every moment of concern, all of it could have been a step toward something he wanted.

And yet, as sharp as that realization was, it wasn’t what unsettled me most.

It was Drew.

The way he spoke with absolute certainty. The way he outlined Max’s downfall like it was already written. The absence of hesitation, the calm steadiness in his voice I had seen confidence before, but this was different. This wasn't a performance. It was inevitable and sure.

And if he could do this to Max…

The thought slid in before I could stop it.

If Drew ever found out about my secret, about the baby, would I become a problem to solve too?

The weight of it pressed into my ribs. I’d been carrying it alone for so long it had almost become background noise, something I could push aside while I worked. But now, sitting here with Drew across from me, the reality of it took shape in a new, sharper way.

Max didn’t know that I could see beyond his lies and deceit. Not yet. But if he ever did and if he realized I was working with Drew against him, he could use my secret to backfire against me.

He could tell Drew. He could spin it in ways I couldn’t control.

And then what?

I looked at Drew as he spoke, his gaze dropping briefly to the papers on his desk. This was a man who could ruin reputations before breakfast. A man whose voice stayed steady while he quietly tore Max’s network out from under him.

Would he look at me the same way if he knew? Would the warmth he sometimes let slip into our conversations vanish, replaced by that cold calculation?

My mind flashed back to my house, to the moment I had mentioned Kimberley to Max, the quick, sharp flicker in his eyes before the mask slipped back into place. I had thought I was clever then, playing him without him knowing.

Now it felt like I’d been walking a narrow lane between two predators, both watching, both patient.

Drew’s voice cut through my thoughts. “You don’t need to worry. He won’t be able to hurt you. By the time I’m done, Max Archer will wish he’d never set foot in this city, much less tried to sabotage my launch.”

Part of me wanted to believe him. Part of me did. But there was another part, the part that had learned not to lean too heavily on promises and that part heard something else entirely.

Because if Drew could do that to Max, he could do it to anyone.

Including me.

I swallowed down the thought, forced a small nod, and slid the folder I’d brought onto his desk. My fingers didn’t shake, but only because I made them still.

We went through the work, line by line, my voice sounding even while my pulse hammered behind my ribs. I could hear myself speaking, answering questions, but the back of my mind was running its own thread, a loop of what ifs and worst case scenarios.

What if Max found out I was part of this? What if he told Drew? What if Drew saw me not as an ally, but as another betrayal to deal with?

What if the truth came out before I could decide how to tell it?

When the meeting ended, I stood, smoothing the front of my skirt. Drew didn’t look up right away, he was already reaching for his phone again, already moving on to the next step in his plan.

I turned toward the door, my hand on the handle, and realized my breathing had gone shallow.

If Max fell, the splash would hit me too.

And I wasn’t sure which would be worse. Being caught in the crossfire, or being the reason Drew pulled the trigger.