Chapter Nineteen

ELENA

Diana moves like she’s in an operating room—calm, exact, cutting clean through lies. Each slide she presents feels like another blow landing on Victoria.

“Slide one,” she says. “Timeline. Elena Martinez hired three weeks ago as Senior Marketing Strategist. Days later, photos of her and CEO Damien Blackwood begin circulating.”

The screen lights up with the doctored photos. A few board members shift, embarrassed.

“Slide two. Upload source. The images came from an executive admin terminal on the ninth floor. Three people used that terminal during the upload windows.”

Victoria’s name glows on the screen. Her face doesn’t move, but her knuckles turn white around her pen.

“Slide three. Financial records. The editing software used to alter these photos was purchased with a credit card belonging to Victoria Blackwood.”

Gasps. Marcus leans forward like he misheard.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Victoria says tightly. “Anyone could have used my card.”

“Except the purchase came from your home IP address,” Diana replies. “And the software was accessed from that same IP every time a new doctored image appeared.”

Victoria opens her mouth, but Diana doesn’t pause.

“Slide four. Metadata. All the images sent to CFO Marcus Vale trace back to a single digital source.”

James’s analysis flashes on-screen—time stamps, fingerprints, all pointing one direction.

“And,” Diana adds, “Ms. Martinez received threatening calls warning her to resign. While untraceable, the timing aligns with Mrs. Blackwood’s documented actions.”

Victoria snaps, “Pattern of harassment?! I was protecting this company from a gold digger who seduced my son!”

“I didn’t seduce anyone,” I say quietly.

Every head turns. Damien’s eyes warn me to stop, but I can’t.

I stand, walk forward. My palms sweat. My heartbeat thumps in my ears.

“Mrs. Blackwood,” I say softly, “your son and I met by accident the night before my interview. Neither of us knew who the other was. We talked. That’s all. I earned my job based on my experience. My campaign numbers prove it.”

“By sleeping with my son!”

“I haven’t slept with him.” My voice does not shake. “We’ve kissed. Twice. We’ve talked about life and work. We like each other. But we haven’t broken any company rules. Not yet.”

The room stills at the word. Yet.

Victoria’s jaw clenches. “You expect me to believe that?”

“No,” I say. “I expect you to stop lying about me.”

Damien steps in. “Enough, Mother.”

She turns on him. “I am protecting this company. Your father’s legacy!”

“By destroying an innocent woman?” His voice rises. “By fabricating photos? By terrorizing someone I care about?”

“Care?” she repeats sharply.

“Yes,” he says. “Care.”

He faces her fully now—CEO vs. board member, son vs. mother. “This isn’t about Jasmine or your fear of losing control. This is about what you did.”

Her voice trembles. “I did what I had to do.”

“No,” he says coldly. “You did what suited you.”

He gestures to the screen. “The evidence is clear: harassment, defamation, breaches of security, manipulation—all committed to force Elena out and push your vote.”

Marcus whispers, “The vote to go public. You wanted Damien vulnerable.”

Victoria doesn’t deny it.

“I wanted him focused,” she snaps. “Not distracted by some—”

She doesn’t finish because Damien slams his hand on the table.

“She resigned because you threatened her,” he says. “Because you made her believe our careers would be destroyed.”

“I was protecting you,” she says weakly.

“I don’t need protection,” Damien replies. “I need a mother who trusts me.”

Silence spreads.

Then Damien says it. The thing that makes my breath catch.

“You tried to destroy the woman I’m falling in love with.”

My stomach flips. My knees go soft. Even Diana blinks.

Victoria stares at him. “You barely know her.”

“I know enough,” he says quietly. “Enough to know she’s honest. Talented. And strong enough to walk away from something she wanted.”

Victoria slowly sits. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Maybe. But it’s mine to make.”

He turns to the board. “Victoria Blackwood will resign effective immediately. She’ll sign an NDA and issue a formal apology to Elena.”

“You can’t force me to—”

“If you don’t,” Damien says, voice sharp as a blade, “we release everything to the public. Every photo. Every lie. Every threat.”

Victoria’s face drains.

Marcus lifts a hand. “I move that we accept her resignation.”

Another member quickly seconds.

“Those in favor?”

Seven hands rise.

The motion passes.

Victoria stands shakily, gathers her things. At the door she looks back at Damien.

“You’ll regret this.”

“Maybe. But at least I’ll regret my own choices.”

She looks at me—something flickers in her eyes, a mix of hurt and anger—then she leaves.

When the door shuts, the room lets out a long, tired breath.

Marcus clears his throat. “Do we still vote on going public today?”

“No,” Damien says. “Not after this. We’ll revisit later.”

People nod, relieved.

Then Damien looks at me. Really looks.

“Elena Martinez,” he says, voice softer, “I’d like to reinstate you to your position. Effective immediately. And offer a formal apology for what you endured.”

I breathe slowly. “I accept the apology. But the reinstatement… we need to do this properly.”

His eyebrows lift. “Properly?”

“You told the entire board you’re falling in love with me,” I remind him gently. “We need to follow the rules. HR rules. Relationship rules.”

Diana jumps in. “Company policy requires disclosure within two weeks of relationship inception, both parties signing a fraternization form, and no supervisory relationship allowed.”

Damien nods. “Then Elena reports to Marcus instead of me. Effective immediately. I recuse myself from all decisions regarding her employment.”

Marcus pauses, studying us. “You’re serious.”

“Very,” Damien says.

“And you’ll give up supervision of your best strategist?”

“If that’s what it takes to keep her.”

Marcus sighs. “Fine. She reports to me.”

Damien turns to me. “Is that okay?”

It is. Complicated, but right.

“Yes,” I say. “It works.”

“Then we’re done,” Damien announces. “Meeting adjourned.”

People file out, murmuring. Marcus pauses at the door.

“Elena,” he says, “I’m sorry. I should have questioned those photos.”

“I know,” I say. “But thank you.”

He nods to Damien. “Take care of her.”

“I plan to.”

Marcus leaves.

The room finally empties, leaving just Damien and me in the quiet.

He steps closer. “Are you okay?”

“Your mother hates me.”

“She hates losing. She’ll adjust.” He hesitates. “Maybe.”

I laugh weakly. “Comforting.”

“Elena… what I said earlier—”

“That you’re falling in love with me?” I ask softly.

He swallows. “Yes. That.”

“Did you mean it?”

He nods once. “Every part of it. Fast or not.”

The world seems to tilt.

I kiss him.

Not rushed. Not hidden. Just real.

When we pull away, he smiles—like he hasn’t in days.

“So,” he whispers, “can I take you to dinner? A real date?”

“We’re not normal people,” I say.

“We could pretend.”

“I’d rather be us.”

He grins. “Us. I like that.”

His phone buzzes. Again. He checks it.

“Claire just resigned,” he says. “Probably because of my mother.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Eventually. Right now I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” I say, softer than I mean to. “Because you fought for me.”

He touches my cheek. “I should have protected you sooner.”

“We learned,” I say. “We’re here now.”

He exhales and rests his forehead against mine. “Elena… are you my girlfriend now?”

“Is that what you want?”

“No,” he says. “I want more. But we’ll start there.”

I smile. “Then yes.”

His relief is almost tangible.

He takes my hand as we leave the room together. And for the first time in weeks, the future feels like something bright.

Something ours.

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