LOGINThe days melted into a delicate routine, forced proximity, stolen glances, and conversations that always tiptoed around the truth. Jason had become relentless, making sure Bella stayed close, under the guise of professional necessity. Every blueprint, every late-night revision session in the glass-walled executive suite was a battlefield one where neither swords nor shields were visible, but wounds ran deep.
Bella buried herself in work, refusing to give Jason the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. She cloaked herself in professionalism, her clipped replies and cool tone a barrier she hoped he couldn’t breach. But he was watching. Always watching. As if trying to read between her movements, decode her silences, and uncover the story behind her eyes.
Then, one late evening, Jason slid a report across the table without a word. Bella glanced at the highlighted numbers.
“Security enhancements?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Supposedly,” Jason replied, voice calm but tight. “But the cost breakdown is vague, and the supplier doesn’t exist. Did you approve this?”
Bella scanned the document. “Absolutely not. This wasn’t part of the original plan.” Her eyes narrowed. “That’s Veronica’s team’s addition, isn’t it?”
Jason nodded once. “It has your digital signature.”
The breath caught in Bella’s throat. “That’s not possible.”
“Apparently it is.” He leaned back, studying her. “Someone’s trying to make it look like you’re mishandling funds.”
A cold dread settled over her shoulders like a shroud. Veronica wasn’t just playing games anymore she was laying traps.
The next day, the trap sprang tighter.
Veronica, smiling with syrupy sweetness, handed Bella a last-minute assignment. “Mr. Reed wants you to personally inspect the Upstate property. It’s urgent.”
Bella stared at the printed order, her heart sinking. The property was remote and long-forgotten. No one had mentioned a revival. “Are you sure he—?”
“He insisted,” Veronica said, her smile sharp. “Today.”
Just as Bella reached the lobby, suitcase in hand, Ryan Cole intercepted her.
“Where are you headed?” he asked, concern evident.
“Apparently Jason wants me to evaluate a condemned site in the middle of nowhere.”
Ryan’s expression darkened. “Jason didn’t authorize that. Bella, that’s Veronica. She’s trying to isolate you. And she’s been whispering to Jason... about your exit from Reed International five years ago.”
Bella stiffened. “What exactly is she saying?”
“That you tampered with financial records before you left. That you used your role to move money.”
Bella’s voice trembled with anger. “That’s a lie. I left with nothing but my dignity.”
“I believe you,” Ryan said gently. “But Jason’s already asking questions. She’s leading him somewhere dangerous.”
As she rode the train north, Bella’s thoughts tangled with memories and fears. Veronica was circling like a vulture, Jason was chasing ghosts, and the truth was too fragile to bear exposure without unraveling everything.
That week, the most unexpected thing happened.
Jason showed up at Lila’s school.
He claimed it was a routine check on the firm’s new security installations. But Bella wasn’t fooled.
Lila spotted him instantly. “Hey! You’re the man from Mommy’s office!”
Jason chuckled, kneeling before her. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Lila pointed at a class display screen flashing parents’ pictures. “Are you Daddy’s friend?”
Jason froze.
The air felt thinner.
Then, he smiled, just a little. “Something like that.”
When he reached to gently tuck a curl behind Lila’s ear, Bella’s breath hitched. The way his fingers trembled, the awe in his eyes told a story words never could. He didn’t know he was looking at his daughter. But some part of him felt it.
That night, back in her apartment, Bella sat on the floor beside Lila’s bed, watching her daughter sleep. The weight of it all bore down on her—Jason’s nearness, Veronica’s schemes, the five years of silence thick between them. Her phone buzzed.
It was Dean.
“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he said, warmth lacing every syllable. “I miss seeing you around here. Are you okay?”
Bella hesitated. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m caught in a storm.”
“You don’t have to stay,” he said. “Come back. To Boston. To us. To something safe.”
Safe.
That word echoed like a bell tolling across her chest.
Dean was steady, gentle, everything Jason wasn’t. But Jason was the father of her child. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't forget the way he looked at Lila not with suspicion, but something achingly close to love.
And then her phone vibrated again.
An anonymous message.
“You don’t know the real reason Jason broke things off with Veronica. Dig deeper. Start with the night you left.”
Bella’s blood ran cold. She stared at the screen, heart racing.
Someone wanted her to uncover the truth.
And suddenly, she wasn’t just caught in a battle between love and lies she was standing at the edge of a deeper, darker web.
The game of proximity had just become a game of survival.
“It’s always the quiet ones,” Jason said—half joke, half warning—before the door clicked shut behind them.“Don’t say that like it’s a consolation prize,” Bella murmured, sliding her hand into the small of his back. The War Room’s glass still blurred in her mind like a bad dream; monitors wiped clean, red lines that looked like bleeding. “Quiet can be a trap.”“Then we’ll make noise when we need to.” He breathed against her hair. “Right now? I want to be loud in a different way.”She laughed, the sound fragile and defiant. “You and your metaphors.”“Not a metaphor.” He kissed the side of her neck. “A promise.”They had left the War Room with strategy notes folded into their pockets and the weight of the night in their shoulders. They had also left, deliberately, the armor they showed the world—the tailored suits, the polished words, the public faces that smiled for cameras and shook hands with people who liked to pretend loyalty was purchasable.The bedroom lights were low. The city o
The handshake looked warm from a distance — practiced, polite, even friendly. But up close, it was anything but.Robert Bannon’s grip was firm and deliberate, the kind of handshake meant to send a message: I’m in control. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and the calm in his tone was the kind that made Jason Reed’s instincts flare red.The room itself mirrored that tension — polished marble floors, golden chandeliers, champagne glasses glinting beneath soft jazz. Every conversation felt rehearsed, every laugh a performance. The launch event for the Bannon Foundation’s “New Cities Initiative” wasn’t about charity or progress. It was about power — and tonight, Jason and Bella had walked right into its nest.Robert turned slightly, the movement smooth, almost predatory. “A genuine pleasure, Jason,” he said, his voice carrying that rich, velvety authority of a man who owned every room he entered. “Lila is a remarkable young woman. Ethan speaks highly of her vision. We believe strongly in f
The invitation arrived in a thick white envelope with gold trim and Jason Reed’s name embossed in bold letters. Inside, the words shimmered like a performance:The Bannon Foundation cordially invites you to the Young Leaders in Sustainable Design Gala.Jason turned the card slowly between his fingers before setting it on the table.He looked across at his daughter, Lila, who was busy scrolling through her phone, and then at Ethan—her boyfriend, the one Jason had avoided acknowledging for months. Ethan sat stiffly, trying to act casual in the presence of a man who clearly didn’t want him there.Jason’s tone was smooth, practiced—the kind that made boardrooms listen but families flinch.“Lila,” he began, “I’ve decided I want to get to know Ethan better.”Lila’s head shot up, her eyes wide. “You… do?”Jason smiled the kind of smile that looked generous but wasn’t. “This gala is the perfect place. It’ll showcase the Foundation’s next generation. You and Ethan will attend with us.”Ethan b
They met Elena in a glass tower that pretended not to stare at the river. Her office smelled of polished wood and iced water. She never smiled unless a plan needed polishing.“Elena,” Bella said, sliding into the chair opposite the lawyer. “We have a problem that’s legal on the face of it, and lethal behind the curtains.”“Talk,” Elena said, putting down her glass. She didn’t have the theatricality of shock; she had the efficiency of judgment.“Cerberus,” Bella said. “And Bannon.”“Elena’s eyebrows didn’t move. She had read richer crime novels for relaxation. “Cerberus is a ghost, Bella. It’s a web of shell companies, trusts, and private foundations. It looks like a fortress because its couriers are invisible.”“How do you attack that?” Bella asked. “We can’t sue a phantom.”“You embarrass it.” Elena said the word like it was a surgical tool. “Every ghost has a face when it wants to show off. They throw parties. They like to vet people. They need theatre.”“You mean a black-tie event?
The War Room smelled faintly of coffee and old paper. The lights were low. Maps and corporate charts lay like a city under glass. It was supposed to be where they planned a campaign — but tonight it was where they kept their marriage alive.“Listen to me,” Bella said, leaning over the table, her hand sliding up the back of Jason’s neck so she could feel him breathe. “Ethan is bait. Sixteen. Works in a bookstore. He doesn’t know anything he can’t forget.”“He’s not the player,” Jason replied, tracing a thin red line from a holding company to a trust account on the tablet. “His father is. Robert Bannon controls a third of the Cerberus Group. That’s not a hobby, Bella. That’s a pillar.”“You keep saying ‘Cerberus’ like it’s a monster you can name and kill.” Bella’s voice was quiet but sharp. “Is it a company, or is it a legal fiction stitched together by lawyers in Bermuda?”“It’s both.” Jason tapped a node until it blinked. “Cerberus, Hydra, Scylla — three holding networks feeding one a
The War Room, once Jason’s fortress of control, now felt like a graveyard of broken promises. The hum of the servers was the only sound left after hours of shouting, accusations, and silence heavy enough to crush a man’s chest.Jason stood in the middle of it all—his tie loosened, his eyes bloodshot, his expression stripped of command. He looked less like a CEO and more like a man who had lost everything except the guilt holding him upright.He spoke softly, the words trembling out of him like a confession.Jason: “You’re right, Bella. You’ve always been right. I’m sorry.”His voice cracked. “I let the fear consume me. I thought I was protecting you—protecting us—but all I did was destroy the trust holding this together.”He walked over to the central computer, the screen reflecting his worn face like a mirror he could no longer avoid. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling. Then, with slow, deliberate motions, he began wiping the drives one by one. Files disappeared, years







