The Fall Before the hunt

Chapter 7:

****

Ryan Ashford was supposed to be winning. He moved like someone had driven a blade between his ribs and twisted it slowly. I wasn’t in the room, but Adrian’s voice through the phone painted every detail in brutal clarity.“Describe his looks,” I said, pacing the inside of Adrian's home office.

There was silence for a while. “He  looks like someone whose entire house has been set ablaze.” Adrian replied. I smiled. Excellent. Through the line, chaos erupted. The sharp rustle of printed documents being passed like evidence at a murder trial. Ryan had just been stripped naked in front of the exact people whose trust he’d bet his career on.

“Is he still moving?” I asked. “Yes, still aggressively moving towards me.” Adrian’s voice dropped. “Wait.”A phone rang in the background. It was Ryan's phone. “I think his mother just called him.” Adrian said.

I stopped pacing. Leaned against the desk and  folded my arms. “Watch his reactions.” Apparently, he did. Adrian’s tone shifted to clinical observation. “He looks like he’d rather be publicly executed.”

I could picture it perfectly. Ryan pressed the phone to his ear while his bloodline imploded in real time. Grace Ashford didn’t do forgiveness. She did surgical strikes wrapped in silk. I knew that firsthand. She’d once smiled across a dinner table while politely reminding me I’d failed to produce an heir. Elegant cruelty in designer packaging.

If she was calling during a board meeting, Ryan was already finished. “What's the situation like now?” I asked. “It's getting tough.” Adrian murmured. “The meeting has been adjourned. Final vote suspended pending review.”

Perfect. No immediate loss and no Ryan victory. Just paralyzing uncertainty. The worst possible outcome for a control addict. “ He's leaving the building now.” Adrian’s voice hardened. “He looks murderous.”

“Come home,” I said. “Timing matters. He can’t start tracing threads yet.”

****

By the time Adrian walked through the penthouse doors, the late afternoon sun was bleeding gold across the floor. He looked lighter and victorious. I handed him a whiskey. He took it, looking straight into my eyes.“You started a corporate civil war.”

“I prefer strategic disruption.”  I said. His mouth twitched. He took a slow sip. “You should’ve seen his face when the attachments opened. Two directors demanded immediate explanations. One asked for a legal review. The chairman just stared at him like he’d personally offended the concept of governance.”

“And then Grace called?” Adrian nodded. “Judging by his expression, it's not going to be easy when he gets home.” I laughed so hard till Adrian's eyes softened on me. “You’re happy.”

It surprised me. Because I hadn’t realized how deeply the truth had settled. This wasn’t just revenge. It was a closure. I took a deep breath in satisfaction.

“I just started,” I said quietly. He stepped closer. “That should concern me more than it does.”

“Probably.”

He smiled into his glass. For a moment, the world felt controlled,stable and powerful. Exactly how I liked it.

****

Across town, the Ashford mansion was burning. Grace Ashford, Ryan's mother had intercepted Ryan at the marble foyer before he could even drop his keys. She showed him the photographs on her tablet screen. "What is this?" She asked. But Ryan couldn't find the right word at that moment.

Vanessa exploded. She slapped him twice in front of senior advisors. I respected the growth, she had some nerves. I love that for her.

His father said nothing. Which was worse. Disappointed silence from powerful men always lands harder than shouting. By midnight, Ryan Ashford, the golden heir, polished executive, the family favorite had somehow become the least popular man in his own bloodline at the moment.

Excellent. That alone is very satisfying for me....I wish I could see the pain in Ryan's face.

****

Two days later, the final Halberg board reconvened. I stayed home as usual.Though I wished I was there to see everything. A missed artistic opportunity. I waited with my phone in hand. My pulse was steady but I was alert.

Forty-three minutes later, my screen lit up. I saw a notification. *Support withdrawn.* I sat upright so I could see clearly. Then my phone rang. I answered instantly. “Well?” I said.

Adrian’s voice came through lower. Satisfied and controlled. “We got Halberg.” I closed my eyes in excitement. There it was. Eighteen months of pursuit. Ryan’s interference. All of it. We got the victory at last.

“You did it.” 

“No,” Adrian corrected. “We did.” The word hit deeper than it should have. *We.* Not him. Not me but us. Funny how an accidental marriage had somehow become the most intentional thing in my life.

“When are you coming home?”

“Soon.” Then he  paused. “Elena? Remind me never to underestimate you again.” I laughed softly. That was the second time he was making such statements 

****

He arrived an hour later looking like he’d personally conquered a small nation. Victory suited him offensively well. He dropped his briefcase, pulled me against him before I could speak.  His chin brushed my hair. A gesture still new enough to feel dangerous.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmured. My heartbeat stuttered. I leaned back just enough to meet his eyes. “And I’m not done.”

His brows lifted. He already knew. We moved to his office to review the next wave. Because apparently, victory made us deeply romantic in highly dysfunctional ways. Nothing says intimacy like mutual financial destruction.

I was halfway through archived Ashford Group correspondence when a medical invoice caught my eye. It was an old medical invoice. Dated three years into my marriage with Ryan. Addressed privately  to Grace Ashford, Ryan's mother.

I frowned. Why was my former mother-in-law linked to my medical records? I opened the invoice.Then  I saw another invoice. Prescription logs. Payment authorizations. Private physician correspondence.

I scanned faster. Words were blurring.  I saw hormonal suppressants and fertility interference compounds.My blood turned to ice. Adrian noticed instantly. “What is it?” I couldn’t answer. Not immediately. The room shrank. The air grew thin. My fingers locked around the tablet.

And when I finally looked up, my voice barely worked. “All those years, it wasn’t my fault that I couldn't get pregnant.”

Adrian frowned. “What?” 

My throat constricted violently. For three years, I’d believed my body had failed me. Three years of Grace’s subtle cuts, Ryan’s quiet disappointment, my own private shame, and my own quiet grief. 

I spent nights crying in bathroom stalls. I swallowed expensive vitamins and sat through humiliating fertility panels. I apologized to a man who didn’t love me for a defect I didn’t have.

Now I was staring at proof that exposed everything. I swallowed hard. “Someone in his family made sure I couldn’t get pregnant.” Adrian’s face changed instantly. Understanding dawn in real time.

"Grace Ashford didn’t just want an heir,” I said, very with cold rage. “She wanted it from a specific woman, Vanessa Cole.  Because she wanted to keep the family bond between the both families."

Adrian went completely still. I dropped the tablet and stood up.Adrian’s hand caught my wrist. “Whatever the plan is, we’ll do it together.” That reassurance from Adrian meant everything for me.