Chapter 2: You Married The Wrong Woman

Amara had just stepped out of the shower when someone knocked on her hotel room door, and she glanced at the clock.

It was 10:18 p.m, and another knock followed.

She wrapped a towel around her hair and approached the door. Before opening it, she checked the peephole.

Damian.

Her fingers tightened around the handle, and the towel around her.

Of all the people she expected to see tonight, he was the last.

She opened the door but didn’t step aside.

“What do you want?”

Damian glanced at her damp hair, then met her eyes.

“We need to talk.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Then you can listen.”

Amara almost shut the door.

He stopped it with his palm.

“Five minutes.”

She stared at him before stepping aside.

“Five. And no touching anything.”

Damian walked in.

His eyes moved around the room, taking in the small sitting area, the laptop on the table and the documents spread beside it.

“You’re staying here?”

“Unless you own the hotel too.”

He ignored the remark and placed a black folder on the table.

“Let’s get straight to business.”

Amara remained standing.

Damian opened the folder and pushed a document towards her.

“Two hundred million dollars.”

She looked at the figure, then at him.

“For what?”

“Renew the AEGIS licence for another ten years. I’ll have the money transferred as soon as the agreement is signed.”

Amara didn’t touch the document.

“That’s your offer?”

“It’s more than fair.”

“According to whom?”

“According to the value of the company you’re threatening to cripple.”

Her lips curved slightly.

“You’ve always been good at making your problems sound like someone else’s fault.”

Damian closed the folder.

“I’m trying to make this easy for both of us.”

“Then you should leave.”

“Amara.”

She moved towards the table and picked up the licence agreement lying beside her laptop.

“You remember this?”

“I know what it is.”

“Do you?”

She turned to the ownership clause and placed her finger beneath the relevant section.

“My patent. My invention. My intellectual property.”

“Cross Meridian paid for its development.”

“Cross Meridian paid for a commercial licence. That’s what the agreement says.”

“We built AEGIS together.”

“And then we got divorced.”

Damian’s jaw tightened.

“The divorce settlement covered everything we owned.”

“Everything we owned jointly.”

She tapped the document.

“This was never jointly owned. You had a licence to use it. You never owned the patent, Damian.”

He stared at the page, and Amara returned it to the table.

“You signed the agreement. Your lawyers reviewed it, you knew exactly what you were signing.”

“And now you’re using it against me.”

“I’m exercising my rights.”

“By refusing to renew a licence that keeps thousands of people employed?”

“By refusing to renew it until eleven dead workers get an independent investigation.”

Damian pushed away from the table.

“Here we go again.”

Amara’s expression didn’t change.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve spent three years blaming me for what happened to Noah. Now you’ve found a way to hold my entire company hostage.”

“Your company?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No. I want to hear you say it.”

He looked at her.

“You’re trying to destroy Cross Meridian because you lost your brother.”

The room went quiet, and Amara slowly placed the document down.

“Don’t use Noah’s name to make yourself sound reasonable.”

“I’m stating the truth.”

“No. You’re accusing me of something because you don’t have an answer for what happened that night.”

Damian stepped closer.

“You think I don’t know what this will cost?”

“Eleven families already know.”

“Those families were compensated.”

“Compensated?”

Her voice sharpened.

“Is that what you call it? Sending grieving parents money and making them sign papers so they can’t talk?”

“They accepted the settlements.”

“They needed the money, their children weren’t coming back.”

Damian looked away, and Amara noticed. She folded her arms.

“An independent investigation, and access to the original records. No company-controlled investigation and no settlements used to silence witnesses.”

“You’re making demands you have no right to make.”

“I have every right to refuse a renewal.”

“And I’ll challenge it in court.”

“Go ahead.”

“You could lose everything.”

Amara took one step towards him.

“I already did.”

For a moment, Damian said nothing. His eyes dropped to the photograph beside her laptop.

Noah had his arm around her shoulders. Both were laughing at something outside the frame.

Damian looked away first.

“Two hundred million,” he repeated. “Think about it.”

“I have.”

“Then sign.”

“No.”

He picked up the folder.

“You haven’t changed.”

Amara opened the door.

“And you haven’t learned.”

Damian stopped at the doorway.

“Don’t mistake my patience for weakness.”

She held the door open.

“Don’t mistake my silence for fear.”

He walked out, and the door closed between them.

Amara kept her hand on the handle until his footsteps disappeared.

Then she turned the lock.

….At the office…

Sloane removed one earring as she entered Damian’s office, he was already there.

His jacket hung over the back of his chair, and his tie lay on the desk. Several documents were spread in front of him.

“It’s almost midnight,” she said. “Are you planning to sleep here?”

Damian didn’t look up.

“Something came up.”

“Your ex-wife?”

His pen stopped, then Sloane walked closer.

“I asked you a question.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth would be a nice start.”

He gathered the documents into a pile, and Sloane caught a glimpse of a company name printed on one of the pages.

Whitmore Holdings.

Her father’s company.

She reached for it, but Damian pulled the papers away.

“Don’t.”

Her hand remained suspended between them.

“Why?”

“It’s confidential.”

“It’s my father’s company.”

“It’s business.”

“Then why are you hiding it?”

Damian slid the documents into a drawer and locked it, she watched him pocket the key.

A small frown formed between her brows.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

She studied his face.

“Does my father know you’re keeping his financial documents?”

“Your father knows exactly what we’re doing.”

“Then I suppose asking him won’t be a problem.”

Damian finally looked at her.

“Leave Richard out of this.”

Sloane’s fingers tightened around her earring.

“Why?”

He picked up his phone.

“I have enough problems tonight.”

She stared at him, then she placed the earring on his desk.

“Apparently, so do I.”

She turned towards the door.

“Sloane.”

She stopped.

“Don’t start something you don’t understand.”

She looked over her shoulder.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to understand, Damian.”

Then she left. Damian waited until the door closed before taking the drawer key from his pocket.

He unlocked it and pulled out the documents, his eyes settlling on a transfer record.

The same account number appeared on three separate payments, and he picked up his phone and dialled a number.

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Amara sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the AEGIS agreement.

Damian’s offer remained on the table, Two hundred million dollars for a ten years renewal.

All she had to do was sign, but she pushed the folder away.

That was when her phone vibrated, and an email notification appeared.

There was no sender’s name, no subject, but Amara opened it.

You should ask your ex-husband what he did at 11:47 p.m.

She stopped breathing for a moment, then she read it again.

11:47 p.m.

Her eyes moved to the clock on the bedside table.

11:52 p.m.

It was Five minutes past, whoever had sent the message knew something. Something precise.

Amara reached for her phone and took a screenshot, then she opened her contacts.

Damian Cross.

Her thumb hovered over his name, then she looked at the message again.

What did he do at 11:47 p.m.?

She lowered the phone.

For three years, she had wanted answers about the night Noah died.

Now someone was telling her exactly where to look, and they knew something she didn’t.

Eleven forty-seven.