Chapter 13 – The Shadow Between Us

Evelyn barely slept.

It wasn't the emails, or the new campaign timelines, or the three presentations due by Friday. It wasn't even the rising stack of unfinished deliverables that loomed like a threat on her desktop.

It was her.

Genevieve Moreau hadn't even been back for forty-eight hours and already the air inside Drake Industries felt different. Heavier. Sharper. People walked faster. Meetings were tenser. And every time Evelyn looked up, it seemed Genevieve was already in the room.

Watching.

Assessing.

Reclaiming.

But what haunted Evelyn most wasn't Genevieve's return or her command over a boardroom. It was the way she looked at Alexander.

Like she had once known every version of him and wasn't afraid to remind the world.

By Thursday morning, Genevieve had inserted herself into every corner of Evelyn's workflow. She had offered to "streamline" the regional launch Evelyn had spent weeks designing. She had suggested alternate branding that undercut the voice Evelyn fought to build.

And she always did it with a smile.

"I don't mean to overstep," Genevieve said sweetly, standing beside Evelyn's desk with a tablet in hand, "but this tagline… are we really leaning into that much sentimentality for a tech-forward product?"

Evelyn clenched her jaw. "The data showed emotional tone increased conversions in both Korean and Southeast Asian segments."

"I'm sure it did," Genevieve replied smoothly, "but data isn't everything, darling. Sometimes the feel of a brand has to override its numbers. I'll work on a few alternates. You don't mind, do you?"

It wasn't a question.

It was war.

That evening, Evelyn met Alexander in the garden of his estate just outside the city. A hidden sanctuary walled off from the rest of the world. Even here, where they were alone and free, she felt the tension.

He sat on the stone bench beneath the old ginkgo tree, sleeves rolled up, collar loose. She joined him without a word, slipping off her heels and drawing her knees to her chest.

"She's everywhere," Evelyn said quietly. "She doesn't even pretend to hide it."

Alexander's eyes remained fixed on the koi pond. "She's staking her ground."

"She knows, doesn't she?"

There was a long pause.

"She suspects," he finally said. "Genevieve was raised in a world of dynasties and political maneuvering. She doesn't miss things."

Evelyn nodded slowly. "She's not going to make this easy."

"No," he said. "She isn't."

She turned to him, her voice low but steady. "Then tell me this was worth it."

Alexander looked at her then, truly looked, his expression softer than she'd seen it in weeks.

"It was," he said. "But that doesn't mean I don't worry. Not about us but about the weight you have to carry now."

Evelyn swallowed the knot in her throat. "I can carry it."

"You shouldn't have to. But you do. Because of me."

She shook her head. "Because I chose you."

He reached over, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I've fought off acquisitions, hostile takeovers, and billion-dollar lawsuits," he said quietly. "None of them scare me like the thought of losing you."

The words hit her deeper than she expected.

But it didn't change the truth: they were living a secret inside a storm.

The next day, Evelyn arrived at the office early, much earlier than usual. The building was still quiet, the sun barely casting light across the Han River. She needed time. Space. A breath before Genevieve turned it all into a chessboard again.

But when she entered the breakroom, she found Genevieve already there.

Perfect, poised, sipping coffee from a glass cup she clearly brought herself.

"You're early," Genevieve said without turning. "Habit? Or something to prove?"

Evelyn said nothing as she poured her tea, keeping her face carefully neutral.

Genevieve turned then, setting her cup down with a soft click.

"I hope you know," she said, her voice like velvet over a blade, "Alexander has a pattern. He... finds distractions when things get too quiet. Little indulgences. Pretty ones."

The implication hit hard.

Evelyn's breath caught.

Genevieve stepped forward, gaze razor sharp. "But they never last. I did."

For a moment, Evelyn's resolve wavered. But only for a moment.

She raised her chin, voice cool and steady. "Then you must know he's not the kind of man who entertains distractions. He chooses purposefully."

Genevieve's eyes narrowed, just slightly.

"Careful," she said softly. "You're playing a long game with a man who never loses."

Evelyn stepped closer, matching her tone. "So am I."

They stared at each other, two women standing in a room too small for both their futures.

And in that moment, Evelyn understood: this wasn't about jealousy.

This was about territory. About legacy. And about a man neither of them would easily give up.

But only one of them wore the lock around her neck.

And it was hidden, yes.

But it was real.