MasukThe morning light over the golf course was too clean.
Too calm. It didn’t match the tension tightening under Estella’s skin. She stood on the grass, adjusting her grip on the club—precise, controlled, exactly how she had been taught. From a distance, she looked flawless. Up close— She was holding herself together. This wasn’t a meeting. This was positioning. And she was being placed exactly where Aizen wanted her. “Too rigid.” His voice came from behind her. Close. Too close. Estella didn’t turn. “I’m fine.” Aizen stepped in anyway. Right behind her. No hesitation. No permission. His hand reached forward, covering hers on the grip of the club. Warm. Steady. Deliberate. “You’re forcing it,” he said quietly, his voice lowering near her ear. “Relax.” Her breath caught—just slightly. Not enough to notice. Enough to feel. This is instruction. Just instruction. Nothing more. Except it wasn’t. Because he didn’t step back. Because his hand didn’t move. Because his presence wasn’t neutral. “Why are you tense?” Aizen murmured. A pause. Then, softer— “After everything we’ve already done.” Estella’s spine stiffened. “That doesn’t make this appropriate.” A faint shift behind her. Not retreat. Not quite. “Appropriate?” he repeated, almost amused. His thumb moved—barely—against her hand. A small motion. Too small. Too intentional. “You said that night meant nothing,” he continued. “But your body reacts like it remembers.” That hit. Not loud. Not obvious. But direct. Estella inhaled slowly, forcing her heartbeat down. “Do you always rely on this?” she replied, voice flat. “Or only when you don’t trust your own arguments?” Silence. A beat. Then— Aizen stepped back. Just enough. “Focus,” he said, tone resetting to cold. “Or you’ll miss.” Like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t just crossed a line— And pretended it didn’t exist. ** The meeting started shortly after. The investor was exactly what Estella expected. Polished. Measured. Dangerous in the way quiet men often were. They didn’t waste time. Numbers. Risk exposure. Future projections. Estella handled her part cleanly. Precise. Untouchable. Until— “Project Orion is ambitious,” the investor said casually. “Reminds me of an older case.” A pause. Then— “Duan Dyne.” The name dropped like it meant nothing. But it did. It meant everything. Estella’s fingers tightened slightly around the document she was holding. Not enough to show. Enough to feel. Her heartbeat stuttered once— Then stabilized. Control. Now. “An unfortunate situation,” the investor continued. “Brilliant concept. Poor execution. And a messy ending.” Messy. That’s how they called it. Her father’s death— Reduced to a word. Estella lifted her gaze. Steady. Calm. Detached. “Every project carries risk,” she said. “What matters is how that risk is managed.” Clean answer. Professional. Safe. The investor smiled faintly. “Interesting.” Not convinced. Testing. Always testing. Aizen stepped in. Not to protect. Never to protect. “Miss Duan will be leading Orion’s risk documentation moving forward,” he said. “She has experience handling recovery frameworks.” That wasn’t support. That was exposure. He just pushed her further into the fire— In front of someone watching closely. Estella didn’t look at him. Didn’t react. She just continued. Explaining. Breaking down risk structures. Answering every angle thrown at her— Without slipping. Without breaking. But only she knew— How close she came. The meeting ended successfully. On paper. The investor was satisfied. Aizen got what he wanted. And Estella— Got confirmation. When they were finally alone, she spoke. “You knew.” Aizen didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” One word. No apology. No hesitation. “And you still let him bring it up.” “You handled it.” Flat. Final. Like that settled everything. Estella let out a quiet breath. Almost a laugh. But colder. “Of course I did.” She turned slightly. Not facing him fully. Not giving him everything. “You always make sure I do.” A pause. Something shifted in the air. Small. But there. ** “Estella?” A different voice broke the tension. She turned. Recognition hit immediately. “Senior?” Relief—unexpected, real—slipped through before she could stop it. He smiled easily. Too easily. “How long has it been?” Their conversation flowed without effort. Light. Natural. Unfiltered. She laughed. Actually laughed. Not controlled. Not calculated. And from a distance— Aizen watched. Still. Silent. Unreadable. But his gaze stayed longer than necessary. He saw everything. How relaxed she was. How her shoulders dropped. How easily she let someone else stand close. Too close. The man touched her arm lightly as he laughed. Casual. Familiar. And something in Aizen tightened. Sharp. Unwelcome. He didn’t like it. ** The drive back was quiet. Too quiet. Estella stared out the window, watching the city shift into evening. Aizen kept his eyes on the road. But his thoughts weren’t there. The car stopped in front of her apartment. Neither moved immediately. The silence stretched. Thin. Tense. “Was today part of your plan?” Estella asked finally. Still not looking at him. Aizen didn’t answer right away. “Part of it.” Honest. But incomplete. Which made it worse. Estella nodded slowly. As if she expected nothing else. She reached for the door— Then stopped. “If you’re going to use me,” she said quietly, “don’t pretend you’re not.” That landed. Clean. Precise. She stepped out. Didn’t look back. ** That night, Estella didn’t sleep. Her laptop sat open on the table. Orion files glowing in the dark. She hesitated. Just for a second. Then clicked. Deeper access. Restricted layers. Archived records. Lines of data moved across the screen. Names. Codes. Classifications. Until— One entry stopped everything. 𝗗𝘂𝗮𝗻 𝗗𝘆𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀: 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗥𝗶𝘀𝗸 𝗙𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿 – 𝗙𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗱 Estella froze. Her eyes locked on the line. Once. Twice. Again. No change. No error. Her father. Not a victim. Not collateral. A risk. Her hand trembled—just slightly—over the trackpad. She scrolled. More data loaded. Redacted sections. Hidden notes. And one partial line— 𝗖𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗙𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗲: 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗟𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗦𝘂𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱— The screen flickered. Access denied. Locked. Cut off. Too fast. Too intentional. Estella leaned back slowly. Her breathing quiet. Too quiet. This wasn’t just about Orion. This wasn’t just about sabotage. This was— Personal. Her phone vibrated. A message. Unknown number. No name. No ID. Just one line: "𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗶𝗲." Silence filled the room. Heavy. Unforgiving. Estella stared at the screen. Her reflection stared back. Calm. But no longer untouched. For the first time— The line wasn’t blurred anymore. It was gone. And she had already crossed it.By the afternoon, the story had changed completely.What had started as an investigation into Zero Degree was now spreading across every major business network.The old Mionier project had resurfaced.So had Troyan Group.And once journalists discovered the connection between Troyan, Vraux, Mionier, and the Deveraux family, they stopped talking about the old affair scandal.The headlines changed within hours.THE DEVERAUX–LAURENT ALLIANCE: BUSINESS STRATEGY OR COVER-UP?Another headline appeared beneath it.TROYAN GROUP LINKED TO RESTRUCTURED MIONIER PROJECTThen another.WAS THE DEVERAUX–LAURENT ENGAGEMENT MORE THAN A FAMILY UNION?Samantha stared at the screen on her phone.Her fingers slowly tightened around it.She had seen scandals before.She had grown up around powerful families.She knew how quickly the media could turn.But this was different.This time, her family's name wasn't standing beside the Deveraux family as an ally.It was standing beside them as a potential accompl
The investigation moved faster than anyone had expected.What had begun as a financial investigation into Zero Degree was no longer limited to suspicious transactions and economic losses. Once the intelligence division compared the old financial records with the documents recovered from the Vraux warehouse, the pattern became impossible to ignore.Zero Degree had never operated alone.Its financial structure intersected with companies and transactions connected to Vraux, Troyan, and the old Mionier project.Different names.Different accounts.Different years.But the same money kept appearing in places where it shouldn't have been.Javier Gilbert had spent years making sure that nobody looked too closely.He had built layers between himself and the dirty work—shell companies, intermediaries, old project accounts, people who could take responsibility when something went wrong.For years, it had worked.Until the Mionier files were reopened.Now, those layers were being pulled apart on
The meeting room on the twenty-third floor had never felt this crowded.Not because there were more people than usual.Because everyone in the room knew something had changed.A thick folder sat in the middle of the conference table.Beside it were several photographs, copies of old documents, and a sealed evidence bag containing a small metal identification plate recovered from the abandoned Vraux warehouse.Lionel sat at the end of the table, his injured shoulder supported carefully beneath his jacket.He shouldn't have been there.His doctor had told him to rest.Lionel had ignored him.Uncle John stood beside the screen while two members of the intelligence division sat across from him.Aizen entered last.The room immediately fell silent."Sorry I'm late."John looked at him."Hospital?"Aizen nodded."Estella woke up."Lionel's expression softened."Finally."Aizen pulled out a chair and sat down."She's stable."John studied him for a moment before nodding."Good."He turned ba
One week later.The VIP room was quiet except for the faint beeping of the monitor beside Lionel's bed.He was sitting slightly upright against the pillows, one arm resting carefully across his stomach. The wound in his shoulder still hurt whenever he moved too quickly, but at least he no longer looked like a man who had just survived a gunshot.A half-empty glass of water sat on the table beside him.Across the room, Aizen stood near the window with his phone in his hand, staring at a report he had already read twice.Lionel watched him for a while."You haven't changed."Aizen didn't look up."What does that mean?""You still look like you're about to fire someone.""I'm reading a report.""You've been reading the same page for five minutes."Aizen finally lowered his phone.Lionel gave him a faint smirk."You look terrible.""I've heard that before.""From me?""From Terry."Lionel chuckled, but the smile faded quickly.His eyes moved toward the door."How's Ella?"Aizen's expressi
The ICU corridor was quieter than the rest of the hospital.Only the steady rhythm of monitors drifted through the partially closed doors.Estella slowed her steps.Her breathing was uneven.Every inhale scraped against her chest.At the end of the hallway, she found the room.ICU — Lionel DuanHer trembling hand reached for the handle.She pushed it open.The room was dim.Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, painting thin lines of gold across the floor.Lionel lay motionless on the hospital bed.A ventilator hissed softly beside him.The heart monitor traced slow, steady peaks across its screen.His shoulder and chest were wrapped in thick white bandages.An oxygen mask covered half his face.He looked...too still.Estella quietly closed the door behind her."...Lionel."No response.She took another step.Then another.Until she stood beside the bed.For several seconds...she simply looked at him.This was the brother she had searched for.The brother she had believed de
Nearly three hours later...The corridor outside the operating room had grown quieter.The rush of nurses had settled into the steady rhythm of hospital life, interrupted only by the occasional beeping of monitors and hurried footsteps echoing down the hall.Aizen stood in front of the large observation window overlooking the city.His untouched cup of coffee had gone cold.His eyes remained fixed on the reflection in the glass rather than the skyline beyond it.He wasn't thinking about Valcor.Or Benedict.Or Javier.He was thinking about Estella's voice."Why is he leaving me again?"Those words refused to leave him.The operating room doors finally opened.A surgeon stepped outside, removing his surgical cap.Aizen turned immediately."Doctor."The surgeon recognized him from earlier."The operation was successful."Aize
Sunday felt unfamiliar.No glass walls. No silent pressure. No eyes measuring her worth.Just light.Estella sat by the window of a café tucked inside the mall, fingers wrapped around a cup that had long gone warm. Outside, people moved in easy rhythms—laughing, shopping, living lives that didn’t f
The party hadn’t ended.It had only thinned.Music still played in the background—soft, distant now. Conversations scattered into smaller circles. Laughter came in fragments instead of waves.But the tension—It stayed.Aizen stood across the room, one hand resting in his pocket, the other holding
Morning arrived like nothing had happened.The glass facade of Valcor Technology still reflected the same pale sunlight. Employees still walked in with their coffee, their schedules, their quiet ambitions.But the moment Estella Duan stepped through the lobby doors, something shifted.It wasn’t lou
The building felt different the moment Estella stepped inside.Not quieter.Sharper.Like every whisper had teeth.No one greeted her.No one even pretended to.Screens lit up as she passed. Conversations dropped mid-sentence. Eyes followed her—not openly, but enough.She didn’t slow down.Didn’t r







