Chapter 4 The Game Had Begun.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of tense focus. The small inconsistency I’d found felt dangerous. I didn’t know what to do with it. Was it nothing? Just a coincidence? Or was it the clue that would break everything open?

Part of me wanted to go to Julian’s office right away. But the memory of his cold, judging eyes stopped me. What if I was wrong? He’d think I was a nervous new hire seeing problems where there were none. I’d already made a huge fool of myself in front of him once; I couldn’t risk a second time.

So, I did the only thing I could. I pushed the fear down and kept working, checking every document until my eyes hurt. The name "Aethelstan" seemed to jump out from every page, a constant reminder of the hidden war Victoria had talked about.

When I finally left, the office was almost empty. The silence felt heavy and tense. My walk to the elevator was filled with the sound of my own footsteps and my worried thoughts.

The next morning, I arrived early, determined to show my findings calmly and professionally. I practiced what I would say in my head. ‘Sir, I saw a small issue with the Silvanus Components patent filing. The law firm involved also works for a company linked to Aethelstan. It’s probably nothing, but I thought you should know.’ Calm. Logical. Not emotional.

But it seemed the universe had other plans for my first week.

I was only halfway through my first coffee when Victoria appeared at my desk. Her face was serious, all signs of yesterday’s small friendliness gone.

“Evelyn. Mr. Thorne wants to see us. Now.”

My heart sank. Had he found out I’d been looking into things? Had I already gone too far?

I followed her into his office, my carefully practiced words disappearing, replaced by pure nerves.

Julian was standing by his window, his back to us. He didn’t turn around right away. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.

“It would seem,” he began, his voice low and showing no emotion, “that our competitors have gotten impatient.”

He finally turned. In his hand was a tablet. He turned the screen towards us. It showed a headline from a big tech website:

“Aethelstan Teases ‘Groundbreaking Wearable Tech’ Ahead of Major Launch.”

The article was vague, but it used words that felt eerily familiar from the Zenith project plans.

“This was published an hour ago,” Julian said, his eyes cold and sharp. “Their timing is… interesting.”

He wasn’t looking at Victoria. His gaze was fixed on me. It felt like a test. Was he accusing me? Did he think I’d already leaked something?

“This is just a teaser, sir,” Victoria said, her voice tight. “There are no details. It could be a trick to shake us up.”

“Or it could be a warning,” he countered, his voice dropping even lower. He finally looked away, starting to pace slowly behind his desk. “They are letting us know they are watching. That they know what we are building.”

The air in the room felt thin. This was the reality Victoria had hinted at. This was the “high” stake.

“Victoria,” he said, stopping his pacing. “I want a full check of every outside company and consultant who can access the Zenith development servers. No matter how small their job.”

“Yes, sir.”

Then his eyes moved back to me.

“Evelyn. You have a background in analysis. I want you to look at every public move Aethelstan has made in the last six months. Press releases, job ads, patent filings, social media posts from their bosses. Look for patterns. For anything that might hint at their plan or their source.”

He wasn’t giving me a vague task anymore. This was direct. This was important. And he was giving it to me, the woman who jumped at his shadow.

“I… understand, sir.” My voice was quieter than I meant it to be.

He gave a single, short nod.

“Good. Keep what you find strictly between the three of us. This room is the only place we talk about this. Is that clear?”

We both nodded. The message was received. Trust no one.

As we were dismissed and turned to leave, his voice stopped me at the door.

“Evelyn.”

I turned back. He was still standing behind his desk, a powerful shape against the bright Aethelburg skyline.

“The flinching,” he said, his tone not unkind, but analytical. “Does it get in the way of your ability to focus on the task?”

The question was so direct it took my breath away. He wasn’t asking about my feelings. He was checking a problem, a possible error in his system.

I straightened up, meeting his gaze directly. This time, I told my heart to be still. I focused on the differences—the colder eyes, the sharper suit, the calculating calm that Liam never had.

“No, sir,” I said, my voice firm and clear. “It does not.”

A fraction of a second passed. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Then, he gave another slight nod.

“See that it doesn’t.”

I left his office, my head spinning. The personal mystery of the twin brothers was now completely mixed with a work crisis. And Julian Thorne, for better or worse, had just pulled me right into the center of the storm. The fear was still there, but it was now mixed with a thrilling, scary sense of purpose. He had seen my weakness and had chosen to test me anyway.

The game had begun.

The rest of the day was a lesson in pressure. I threw myself into the task Julian had given me, my run-in with Aethelstan’s teaser campaign giving me a new, sharp focus. The flinches happened less often, pushed aside by the huge amount of work and the nagging worry that every click might reveal another piece of a bad puzzle. By the time the sky outside the big windows began to turn purple and orange with dusk, my eyes were dry and my shoulders were tight with stress.

As I got my things together, a low rumble echoed through the building. A moment later, rain began to beat hard against the glass with a sudden, fierce force, turning the view of Aethelburg into a blurry, watery painting. A heavy downpour. I’d forgotten my umbrella.

With a sigh, I decided to wait it out in the lobby. I took the elevator down and found a sleek bench near the entrance, watching the walls of water drown the city. The lobby was quiet, almost peaceful, a sharp contrast to the silent war happening on the upper floors.

The quiet sound of a private elevator broke the silence. The doors slid open, and Julian Thorne stepped out, putting on a long, black coat. He looked every bit the powerful CEO, unaffected by the day's stresses. His eyes scanned the lobby, probably for his driver, and landed on me, sitting alone.

He didn't smile or say hello. He simply walked over, his footsteps quiet on the shiny floor.

"Evelyn," he said, his voice cutting through the quiet. "I'm going down to the parking garage. You can ride with me."

It wasn't an offer. It was an order. A kindness given from above. I had no choice but to mutter a quiet "Thank you, sir" and walk beside him.

We stepped into the roomy, mirrored inside of the private executive elevator. The doors closed with a soft sound, shutting us in. The space that had felt so big moments before now felt very small, shrinking under the weight of his presence. I stared stiffly at the lit numbers above the door, watching them go down. 18... 17... 16...

In the reflection of the shiny doors, I could see him watching me. Not directly, but studying my reflection, seeing the tension in how I stood.

Then, it happened.

The elevator shook so violently I was thrown completely off balance. With a surprised cry, I stumbled sideways—right into him. My hands flew out, my palms pressing against the solid wall of his chest to stop my fall. At the same time, his own arm shot out, his hand gripping my elbow to steady me, pulling me firmly against him.

For one heart-stopping, breathless second, we were pressed together. I was sharply aware of the surprising warmth of his body through our clothes, the firm muscle under my hands, the strong grip on my arm. The clean, sharp smell of his cologne was suddenly all around me.

The lights flickered wildly, and with a final, groaning shake, the car stopped completely. The emergency lights flickered on, casting a dim, scary glow.

As soon as the world stopped moving, panic took over. I practically threw myself away from him, spinning around and pressing my whole front against the cool metal wall of the elevator, as if I could somehow melt into it and vanish. My position was awkward, my face burning with a blush so strong I could feel it in my fingers. I stared blindly at the steel, my heart pounding in my chest.

A harsh alarm sounded once, then stopped, leaving us in a deep, heavy silence.

From behind me, I heard a low, quiet sound. Almost like a held-back laugh. Then, his voice, incredibly calm.

“It seems the storm has affected the power.”

I couldn't turn around. I couldn't move.

He took out his phone. I heard the faint tap of his screen.

“No signal,” he stated.

I forced myself to take a shaky breath and peel myself off the wall. Turning around was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. He was watching me, and a faint, clear smirk was now on his lips. He’d seen my whole embarrassing act.

“No flinching that time, Evelyn,” he observed, his tone dry, his eyes shining with amusement in the dim light.

His gaze moved over my surely red face and my ashamed posture. “Though it would seem the fear of being stuck with me has caused a new and rather creative form of panic.”

Before I could even process the teasing comment, his phone buzzed in his hand, finding a tiny bit of signal. The screen lit up with a bright, urgent message.

His calm expression broke. All traces of amusement vanished, replaced by sharp, instant alarm. His eyes read the message, his jaw tightening. Without a word, he turned the screen to show me.

The light from the phone was harsh in the dim elevator, showing the words that would change everything:

SECURITY ALERT: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS ATTEMPT: ZENITH PROJECT FILES. LOGIN CREDENTIALS: STERLING.V [TERMINATED]