Chapter 36 – Countermeasures

Evelyn stood at her desk early Tuesday morning, double-checking her notes for the day's leadership review. The storm she had unleashed yesterday had yet to fully settle, and the air inside the headquarters of Drake Industries was thick with speculation. A different kind of silence clung to the corridors now, less reverent, more calculating.

But Evelyn felt strangely calm.

She had stepped into a firestorm, and for once, she wasn't the one burning.

"Morning," came a voice from the door. It was Mason, holding a small paper bag in one hand and a bright smile.

"You're early," Evelyn said, her tension melting just a little.

"I brought those muffins you liked from the bakery down the hill. Blueberry lemon. Still warm."

She took the bag, surprised by how much it steadied her. Mason had been her calm in the chaos lately, and she found herself increasingly grateful for his presence.

"You didn't have to," she murmured.

"You're fighting an uphill battle," he said gently. "Every general needs provisions."

That made her laugh, a soft, startled sound. "Well, then. Thank you."

"How are you holding up?" he asked, his voice dropping.

Evelyn glanced out the window. "I expected more fallout after yesterday."

"It's coming," he said. "But it won't be loud. Not yet. Genevieve and Claudia aren't the type to scream. They'll whisper. Strategize. Wait until your guard drops."

She nodded, appreciating his candor. "Then we stay alert."

Meanwhile, in a conference room two floors up, Genevieve and Claudia sat across from each other, flanked by two assistants and cups of untouched espresso.

"She's cleverer than we gave her credit for," Claudia said flatly.

"She got lucky," Genevieve replied. "I had a blind spot. I won't make that mistake again."

"You lost access to core financials," Claudia pointed out. "She has the board's attention now."

"Then it's time we make her stumble. Subtly."

Claudia raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Genevieve pulled a tablet from her bag and turned it around. "There's a new campaign Evelyn signed off on. A collaboration with a major influencer group. If we can make it implode, the damage to her credibility will ripple. It's her project. Her responsibility."

Claudia leaned forward. "How?"

"A few calls to some industry contacts. Push the group to overpromise deliverables. Slip in some bad data. Leak a miscommunication to the press. When the campaign falls apart, she falls with it."

Claudia's lips thinned. "If you can pull it off without our fingerprints, do it. But one mistake, and Alexander will cut you off completely."

Genevieve smiled coldly. "Then I won't make one."

That evening, Evelyn sat in her apartment surrounded by files when the smell of smoke hit her nose. At first, she thought it was the heater acting up again. But then the alarm blared.

Within seconds, the hallway outside her door was filling with smoke. Evelyn grabbed her phone and keys, rushing out barefoot and breathless.

Fire trucks screamed into the street as she stumbled outside with dozens of other tenants. Flames licked the side of the building, centered two floors above hers, but the smoke had already spread throughout the upper units.

She coughed violently, standing on the curb, wrapped in a neighbor's blanket. Her phone buzzed.

Alexander.

"Where are you?" he demanded as soon as she answered.

"My building. There's a fire. I'm okay."

"Stay there. I'm coming."

Twenty minutes later, a black sedan pulled up beside the scene. Alexander stepped out, his coat half-buttoned, eyes scanning the crowd until he found her. Relief flooded his face.

"Come on," he said, wrapping his coat around her shoulders. "You're staying with me tonight."

"Alexander, I can..."

"Evelyn," he interrupted, voice firm. "No arguments."

They said nothing during the ride to his townhouse, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Just weighted with unspoken emotions.

He handed her a glass of water and motioned to the guest room. "Get some rest. We'll sort everything in the morning."

She paused, hand on the doorframe. "Thank you."

"Always," he said.

Elsewhere, Noah and Hana sat at a quiet jazz bar downtown. He stirred his drink absently while she recounted a ridiculous team-building mishap from her last job.

He laughed. "How did no one get fired for that?"

"They almost did. But the VP had a soft spot for dogs."

Noah chuckled, watching her smile, the way her eyes crinkled. "You're good at this, you know. Lightening a heavy day."

Hana's gaze softened. "And you're better at carrying it."

There was a pause, not awkward, but new. Uncharted.

"So," he said, "letting me walk you home tonight?"

"Only if you promise not to talk about login metadata."

"Deal," he grinned.

And they left together, two quiet sparks kindling in the chaos of war.