Chapter Two

Lachlan Vance’s POV:

The glass wall of the fifty-fourth floor looked out over Sydney Harbour, but I saw none of it. All I could see was everything I had lost. Four years ago, Vance Green Energy had been my future. My father’s legacy. The company I had spent years proving I was capable of leading.

Then the scandal happened.

Two billion dollars vanished from our market value almost overnight. Investors panicked. Competitors circled. The media tore the Vance name apart. And the woman I had trusted enough to bring into my home had handed our enemies the weapon. At least, that was what I had believed.

“Mr Vance?”

My secretary’s voice came through the intercom. “The quarter-four risk assessment team is assembled in Executive Room B. They’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

“Let them wait.”

I stared at the harbour, my thumb moving absently over the silver edge of my father’s signet ring. People called me ruthless. They called me the Sovereign of Martin Place. They said I could cut an employee loose without losing a wink of sleep. They didn’t understand that coldness was simply easier than anger.

Anger reminded me of her.

I turned from the window and walked toward the boardroom. The conversation stopped the moment I entered. Six senior executives sat around the polished mahogany table. None of them looked comfortable.

Good.

I remained standing.

“Four per cent.”

My voice was quiet. The Chief Risk Officer shifted in his chair.

“Four per cent margin loss on the regional grid acquisition. Explain it, Henderson.”

He swallowed hard. “Mr Vance, the supply chain disruptions in New South Wales were unexpected. The weather”

“I don’t pay you to predict the weather.”

Silence choked the room.

“I pay you to predict failure before it costs my shareholders fifty million dollars.”

Henderson’s face tightened. “We’re already correcting the problem.”

“Too late.”

I dropped a heavy folder onto the table. “Your access cards have been deactivated.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Your personal belongings are in the lobby.”

“Mr Vance”

“You have ten minutes.”

The Vice President shot to his feet. “You can’t fire the entire senior risk committee because of one mistake!”

I looked at him. “One mistake?”

His anger faltered. “You’ve become paranoid.”

Nobody breathed. He continued anyway. “Ever since your wife sold you out, you see betrayal everywhere.”

The room went completely silent. I slowly turned toward him.

“My wife?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

He swallowed. “Yes.”

I walked closer. “Do not mention her again.”

“Lachlan”

“My wife is a ghost.” I stopped inches from him. “A ghost I buried four years ago.”

He stared at me, shaken.

“If you say her name again,” I continued, “you won’t just lose your job. I’ll make sure you lose everything that depends on your reputation.”

His face was drained of colour. “Get out.”

He left. One by one, the others followed. Within a minute, the boardroom was empty.

I remained standing. Alone.

Kirrily.

Even after four years, her name still had the power to tighten something suffocating inside my chest. I had given her my name. My trust. My protection. And she had betrayed me.

At least, that’s what I had spent four years telling myself.

The boardroom doors opened.

“At this rate, mate, you’ll run out of executives before Christmas.”

I didn’t need to turn around. “Callan.”

Callan Sterling walked in, adjusting his frameless glasses. He had been my best friend since childhood, the one person in this building who could speak to me without fear.

“They were incompetent,” I said.

“They were human.”

I walked toward the window. Callan followed.

“You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Punishing everyone because of something that happened four years ago.”

My jaw tightened. “It’s not over.”

“Kirrily is gone.”

“That doesn’t mean the leak is buried.”

Callan sighed. “Vance Enterprises survived.”

I didn’t answer.

“You won.”

Before I could respond, the secure phone inside my jacket vibrated. I pulled it out. “Report.”

My chief quantitative analyst’s voice came through, breathless. “Mr Vance, we’ve got an emergency on the ASX.”

I straightened up. “What happened?”

“Someone just executed a block purchase against our logistics subsidiary.”

“How much?”

“Two point four million shares.”

My grip tightened on the phone. “Which company?”

“That’s the problem.”

“What problem?”

“The order came through an encrypted dark pool.”

I stared at the rain streaking the glass. “Give me the buyer.”

A long pause. “Archangel.”

My blood went cold. Callan’s expression changed. “What?”

I ignored him. “You’re certain?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Trace it.”

“Sir, dark pools can take”

“I didn’t ask how long it would take.” My voice hardened. “Trace it.”

I ended the call. Callan stared at me, sensing the shift. “What is it?”

“Archangel.”

His eyebrows drew together. “The entity that bought our distressed debt four years ago?”

“Yes.”

“Could be unrelated.”

“No.” I knew it. I could feel it. Someone was coming for Vance Enterprises, and I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly who.

I forced my way into the exchange routing system and watched the trace begin. Offshore, then another proxy, then another. The signal narrowed.

New South Wales.

My pulse quickened. The map moved north. Sydney disappeared. The Central Coast, then further north, until one location flashed on the screen.

BYRON BAY.

I stared. Callan stepped closer. “What did you find?”

I didn’t answer. A satellite image loaded. A cliffside cottage overlooking the ocean. Then another file opened a property record.

My eyes locked onto the name.

Kirrily Archer.

For several seconds, I couldn’t breathe. Kirrily is alive and living in Byron Bay. Secretly dismantling my company. The woman I had spent four years believing was broken had apparently been building an empire of her own.

“Where are you going?” Callan asked.

I grabbed my coat. “Byron Bay.”

“Lachlan, the board meeting”

“Cancel it.”

“You can’t just”

I was already walking toward the elevator. The doors slid open. I stepped inside. As they closed, I looked at my reflection in the steel.

Four years of hatred had just found a face again. And this time, she wouldn't be able to hide behind a ghost.