Chapter 5 Lion's Soft Spot

The air in the elevator felt like it was gone. The world shrank to the glowing screen of Julian’s phone and the terrible words written on it.

STERLING.V [TERMINATED]

All the breath left my lungs at once. Victoria? It was impossible.

Julian’s face was a mask of cold fury. The short moment of teasing fun was gone, wiped away as if it had never happened. The man beside me was no longer a curious watcher; he was the CEO, and his company was under direct attack.

He immediately started stabbing at his phone, trying to make a call.

“No signal,” he said, his voice low and angry.

The single bar that had brought the alert was gone. He slammed his fist against the elevator door, a short, sharp sound of frustration that made me jump.

The jarring hit seemed to start something. With a low hum, the lights flickered back to full strength. The elevator gave a gentle shake and then, smoothly, began going down again as if nothing had happened.

The return to normal was more jarring than the breakdown. The bright lights, the quiet whirring of machinery—it all felt like a cruel joke. We stood in silence, the air thick with unspoken panic.

When the doors opened onto the parking garage, he was moving before they were fully open, walking out with a scary intensity.

“With me,” he ordered without looking back, his voice leaving no room for argument.

He didn’t go to his waiting car. Instead, he turned around and marched straight towards a private door marked ‘Security Access Only’. He punched a code into the keypad, shoved the door open, and held it for me, his impatience a physical force.

I scrambled after him into a plain, brightly lit staircase. He took the steps two at a time, his long legs covering the flights fast until he pushed open another door onto the main executive floor. He didn’t go to his office. He headed straight for the security command center, a room I’d never seen before, full of blinking lights and large monitors showing lines of code.

“Report,” he snapped at a pale-faced technician who jumped at his sudden entrance.

“Sir, the access attempt was made from an outside IP, hidden through several proxies. But the login info… it was Assistant Sterling’s. The system shows she was logged in at the time.”

“It’s a setup,” I blurted out, unable to stay quiet. Both men turned to look at me. The technician seemed surprised I’d spoken. Julian’s look was unreadable. “Sir, she would never do this. Someone is framing her.”

“The proof is the proof, Evelyn,” he said, his voice cold. But he didn’t dismiss me. He held my gaze for a moment longer, then turned back to the screens. “The ‘how’ is your problem. Find it.”

It was then that he did something unexpected. He pulled out his personal phone and went to a chat app I didn’t know, typing a single, short message.

Julian: Victoria's matter. Proceed. Full audit trail.

The reply was almost instant. A flood of text and emojis exploded on his screen.

★Chiper is watching you★: 0_0!!!!!! Julian-brother~! On it! Nothing gets past God Seven! 🦸🦸🦸🤫😻😻😻Ooh, a mole hunt! My favorite! Don’t worry, pretty new assistant, I’ll clear your Victoria’s name! 🤸🤸🤸 ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

I stared, confused, at the chaotic stream of characters. Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, a sign of pure annoyance.

“Ignore the noise. He is the best there is. If the login didn’t come from Victoria’s computer, he will find where it did come from.”

A strange sense of relief washed over me. He was listening. He was fighting for the truth, and he had a secret weapon named Seven.

The next few hours were a blur of organized chaos. I became Julian’s shadow, getting files, passing on messages, and watching him command the room with a fierce, scary skill. The more I saw, the more the image of the man in my head broke. This wasn’t just Liam’s cold brother. This was a leader, a planner.

During a short break, he was looking over a report, his brow furrowed. Without looking up, he spoke.

“You were right.”

I jumped. “Sir?”

“First checks suggest keylogging malware was put on a computer with access to Sterling’s login info. They were stolen.” He finally looked up, and his gaze was different. The ice had melted, replaced by a look of tired respect. “Your gut feeling was correct.”

It was the first real, straight praise I’d ever gotten from him. It was about my judgment. It felt better than any compliment I could remember.

It was well past midnight when he finally let the security team go, telling them to keep looking in shifts. The storm had passed, for now. The building was quiet again, the panic quieted into a steady, determined hunt.

We were alone in the command center, surrounded by the quiet hum of servers. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a deep exhaustion.

“You should go home, Evelyn,” he said, his voice rough with tiredness. “I will look over the final report.”

“I can wait, sir. I’ll make sure everything is logged for the morning team.” I couldn't just leave him there, surrounded by the proof of the night's betrayal.

He didn’t argue. He simply gave a short nod and walked out of the security room, not towards the elevators, but back towards his office. I followed at a distance, giving him space.

I kept busy at my desk outside his office, putting notes together and making sure all the logs were in order. After about fifteen minutes, I had everything sorted. I picked up the folder and went to his door. It was slightly open.

I raised my hand to knock, but the sound from inside made me freeze.

It was his voice, but unlike any tone I’d ever heard him use. It was soft, gentle, and full of a worried coo.

“...yes, I know, it’s very late. Forgive me, my little queen. Did the storm scare you? Hmm? Your foolish father was delayed.”

My eyes widened. I couldn't help but peek through the crack in the door.

Julian was seated at his desk, but his computer wasn’t showing financial reports or security logs. It was on a video call. And on the screen, taking up the whole monitor, was the majestic, fluffy face of Duchess Issabela, who was meowing commandingly at the camera.

He was still in his suit, his tie a little loose, his hair messy from a long night of running his hands through it. The stern CEO was gone. In his place was a man who looked annoyed, unsettled, and completely devoted to his cat.

“The auto-feeder didn’t turn on? That useless… I’ll have it replaced tomorrow. No, don’t look at me like that, Issabella. I am sorry. I will be home soon to personally take care of your dinner. Yes, I promise.”

He leaned closer to the screen, his expression one of real regret. It was the most open I had ever seen him.

I must have made a sound, a faint gasp of disbelief, or maybe my shadow moved. His head shot up, his eyes locking onto mine through the gap in the door. The softness in his face vanished instantly, replaced by a flash of pure panic and embarrassment before his usual cold mask slammed back into place.

He quickly said, “I have to go. Behave,” to the screen and ended the call.

“Evelyn.” His voice was like ice, but I could see the slightest blush creeping up his neck. “What is it?”

I pushed the door open fully, holding out the folder, trying to keep my own face neutral. “The final report from the security team is put together and ready for your review, sir.” I hesitated, then added, a small, real smile touching my lips despite myself. “I hope Duchess Isabella III wasn’t too bothered by our late night.”

He stared at me for a long moment, clearly trying to decide how to handle this. Deny it? Scold me? Finally, he let out a short, annoyed breath.

“She is a creature of strict routine. She finds my work… very annoying.” He reached out and took the folder, his movements stiff. “That will be all.”

“Yes, sir.” I turned to leave, the image of the scary CEO being told off by his cat forever burned into my memory.

Just as I reached the empty lobby, my personal phone buzzed. A number I didn’t know. My blood went cold, expecting another crisis.

The message was simple.

Unknown Number: You're in the lion's den now. Be careful who you trust. The snake doesn't always hiss.

The message wasn’t about business. It was a warning. For me. And it meant that the mole wasn’t just targeting Aethelgard anymore. They were watching us.