Chapter four- Beast of Cole Industries

Maxwell POV

 

The office was a sanctuary of silence, but it was the kind that threatened to explode. I sat behind my desk, reviewing the numbers flashing across my screen with a practiced efficiency. Each figure confirmed what I already knew: someone was attempting to undermine me.

 

My office door creaked open, and Mark, my right-hand man, stepped inside, his face taut with unease. He placed a folder on the desk.

 

“You were right,” Mark said, his voice low. “The report was filed anonymously, but it’s a strategic hit. If we don’t address this now, it could escalate into a full-blown PR nightmare.”

 

I opened the folder, skimming through the contents. False accusations, doctored financial statements—someone was trying to paint me as a corrupt CEO siphoning funds.

 

“Ethan Liam,” I muttered, venom lacing my words.

 

Mark nodded. “He’s the only one with the resources and motive to pull this off. He’s been circling like a vulture ever since your last acquisition.”

 

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. Ethan had always been a nuisance, but this? This was war.

 

“I’ll handle it,” I said, my tone cold and final.

 

Mark hesitated. “There’s more.”

 

I raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue.

 

“A video came in… anonymously. It’s about your wife.”

 

My chest tightened as he handed me a USB drive. I plugged it into my computer, and the screen flickered to life.

 

Amelia appeared, sitting in the living room of our mansion. She was reading a book, her face serene and oblivious to the hidden camera capturing her every move.

 

A note followed, displayed in bold white letters:

“This one looks naïve and doesn’t fit your style, but I like her anyway.”

 

The rage that erupted inside me was instant and all-consuming. My hands curled into fists as I stared at the screen.

 

“Where did this come from?” I demanded, my voice a low growl.

 

Mark shook his head. “No sender information. It’s a threat, Maxwell. Someone’s testing you.”

 

I slammed the desk, the sound echoing through the room. “Whoever it is, they’ve crossed the line. Find them.”

 

Mark nodded and left without another word.

 

I sat back, trying to rein in the storm brewing inside me. The thought of someone watching Amelia, using her as a pawn, made my blood boil. She didn’t deserve to be dragged into this, not when I’d been the one to force her into this marriage.

 

Yet even as I seethed, my thoughts strayed to her face—her reaction this morning when she saw the scar on my back.

 

I had expected disgust or fear. Instead, I had seen something I couldn’t place—pity, maybe, or perhaps understanding. It unsettled me.

 

Amelia was a puzzle I hadn’t anticipated. She didn’t flinch at my scars, didn’t shrink away from my anger. Instead, she faced me with a quiet resilience that both intrigued and irritated me.

 

Why wasn’t she scared of me?

 

I had built my reputation as a ruthless businessman and a man no one dared to cross. They called me the Beast of Cole Industries for a reason. In the boardroom, I was relentless, intimidating, and cold. I had shattered competitors with a single move and dismantled empires with a signature on a dotted line.

 

And yet, my wife wasn’t intimidated.

 

I pushed the thought aside as my phone buzzed. It was my secretary, Claire.

 

“Mr. Cole, I have an urgent matter to discuss,” she said, her tone clipped.

 

“Come in,” I replied, sitting up straighter.

 

Claire entered a stack of documents in her hands. She placed them on my desk and began to explain.

 

“A new report has surfaced. It’s another attack on your integrity, but this time, it’s targeting your international holdings.”

 

I skimmed the documents, my jaw tightening. This was Ethan’s handiwork again—his fingerprints were all over it. He was poking the beast, daring me to retaliate.

 

As Claire continued briefing me, my mind raced. Ethan wasn’t just after my company—he was after my legacy, my empire. And now, he was dragging Amelia into it, using her as leverage.

 

I couldn’t allow that.

 

“Send a team to secure the mansion,” I ordered. “Double the security detail. I want eyes on Amelia at all times.”

 

Claire nodded, but she hesitated before leaving. “Sir, if I may… do you think Ethan is capable of going further? Beyond business?”

 

I met her gaze, my expression hard. “Ethan Liam is capable of anything. That’s why I intend to crush him before he gets the chance.”

 

Once she was gone, I leaned back in my chair, my thoughts returning to Amelia.

 

She was naïve, yes, but there was a strength in her I hadn’t expected. She had stood up to Lisa last night, and though I had stepped in to shut Lisa down, Amelia had held her ground.

 

It was foolish. She didn’t belong in this world of power plays and ruthless ambition. But now that she was in it, I had to protect her—even if it meant keeping her at arm’s length.

 

As the hours passed, I immersed myself in strategy, planning my next move against Ethan. But the video and its chilling message lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the threat looming over us.

 

By the time night fell, I was exhausted, but sleep was the furthest thing from my mind.

 

I stood by the window, staring out at the city lights, my reflection faintly visible in the glass. The scar on my cheek seemed darker in the dim light, a constant reminder of the battles I’d fought and the enemies I’d made.

 

But this battle was different.

 

This wasn’t just about me anymore.

 

It was about her.

 

The phone on my desk buzzed again. Another message flashed on the screen, and my stomach dropped as I read it:

 

“The game’s just begun, Beast. Let’s see how long your queen survives.”

 

I clenched the phone in my hand, my mind racing. The stakes were higher now, and the enemy was closing in.

 

But if they thought they could take Amelia, they were about to find out just how far I was willing to go to protect her.

 

The video replayed in my mind, every frame fueling the fire in my chest. Amelia, sitting there, completely unaware she was being watched, turned into someone’s twisted entertainment. I couldn’t shake the thought. Why did it bother me so much? She wasn’t someone I chose—this marriage was a necessity, a means to an end. Yet, the sight of her being used as a pawn in someone else’s game made my blood boil in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

 

I gritted my teeth, pacing the office. The anger wasn’t just about the invasion of my privacy—it was about her. Amelia. Her soft, calm presence had been a disruption to my carefully ordered chaos since the moment she walked into my life. She wasn’t what I expected, and that infuriated me.

 

My hands clenched into fists as memories from last night surfaced. She had stood there in the dining room, wearing that sleek black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. She looked… beautiful. Stunning, even. And the worst part? She didn’t even seem to know it.

 

I had looked away and forced myself to act indifferent, but the image lingered. Her confidence when she faced Lisa, and her refusal to back down—it was reckless, yes, but it was also admirable. I’d seen a flicker of strength in her, a reminder that she wasn’t as docile or naïve as I wanted to believe.

 

Yet, it didn’t change anything. Women like Amelia weren’t to be trusted—not anymore. I had learned that lesson the hard way. My ex-wife had been beautiful too, and look where that had led me. Betrayal, humiliation, and a scar that ran deeper than the one on my cheek.

 

No, I couldn’t afford to let my guard down. Not for her. Not for anyone.

 

But this was different. The video wasn’t just a threat against me—it was against her. And the idea of someone using Amelia to get to me made me want to destroy everything in my path.

 

She was in this game now, whether she liked it or not. And while I didn’t trust her, I sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt or bully her other than me.

 

Did they want to test me? Fine. Let them come. But if they thought I’d let them take Amelia, they were dead wrong. She was mine to protect, even if I kept her at arm’s length.