Chapter 19

Liam's POV 

​The board meeting ended at 1:14 AM.

​The vote was a formality. The moment the lawyers presented the marriage certificate and the trust activation documents, the oxygen left the room. Henderson didn’t fight. He didn’t even look at me. He looked at the floor, probably calculating the severance package he’d need to negotiate before the sunrise.

​We had won.

​Sterling Tech was secure. The Medusa core was under my direct authority. The merger was no longer a hostile takeover; it was a consolidated empire.

​I stood at the head of the conference table. The mahogany was covered in empty water glasses and discarded printouts. The air smelled of ozone and expensive cologne.

​"The press release is scheduled for 6:00 AM," I said. My voice was steady. It was a tool I had sharpened over a decade. "Felix will handle the specifics. Everyone else, go home. We start the integration at noon."

​The directors filed out. They moved like shadows. They were tired, but they were rich. That was the only transaction that mattered.

​Isabella was still sitting at the far end of the table.

​She hadn’t spoken during the meeting. She had just sat there, a pale figure in a dark room, watching the proceedings like an auditor. She looked—

​I cut the thought. I focused on the market ticker on the wall. The numbers were green. A vertical climb.

​"The volatility is stabilizing," I said. I didn't look at her. I looked at the data. "We’ll be back to our pre-leak valuation by Friday. Maybe higher."

​Isabella didn't move. "Is that all?"

​"It’s the primary objective."

​"I see."

​I tapped a command on my tablet. I needed to move. I needed to be in the office, behind the glass, where the variables were predictable.

​"I have the DOJ briefing at three," I said. "Then a call with the Zurich servers. We need to verify the sync from the Jersey house before Arthur’s lawyers try to block the IP."

​"Liam."

​She said my name with a specific gravity. I felt it in my chest—a sudden, sharp pressure.

​"Yes."

​"The meeting is over. The doors are locked."

​"There’s still work to do, Isabella. The transition—"

​"Look at me."

​I didn't want to. To look at her was to acknowledge the cost. The marriage certificate was a document, but the look in her eyes was a debt I wasn't prepared to pay.

​I turned.

​She was standing now. She had moved closer, but she was still on the other side of the table. The distance was strategic.

​"You haven't said anything," she said.

​"I’ve said everything that was on the agenda."

​"Not about the agenda. About us."

​I looked at the window. The city was a blur of lights.

​"There is no 'us' in the corporate structure, Isabella. There is the Chair and the CEO. We have a contract. We have a shared interest. That is the strongest foundation possible."

​"A foundation of paper."

​"Paper holds the world together."

​I saw her hand tighten on the back of a chair. Her knuckles were white.

​"Is this the plan?" she asked. "The vote is done, so the mask comes back on?"

​"There is no mask. This is the reality of the position. We are under a microscope. Every word, every gesture, is a data point for the analysts. If we show—"

​I stopped.

​If we show what? Weakness? Sentiment? The fact that my hands shook when I saw her in that pharmacy?

​Delete the variable.

​"We need to maintain a professional distance," I said. My voice was cold. I made it cold. "For the sake of the transition. If the board thinks this was a romantic impulse, they’ll doubt the logic of the merger. We need them to see the math."

​"The math." She whispered the word. It sounded like a curse.

​"Yes."

​I walked toward the door. I didn't wait for her. I needed the hall. I needed the elevator. I needed to be alone so I could breathe without feeling the weight of the air she was using.

​"I'll have Felix arrange a suite for you on the 48th floor," I said, my back to her. "It’s secure. It has a private uplink. You’ll have everything you need."

​"A suite."

​"It’s more practical than the penthouse. Closer to the legal team."

​I heard her footsteps. They were light, but they were coming toward me.

​"You're pushing me away," she said.

​"I'm managing the risk."

​"I'm not a risk, Liam. I'm your wife."

​The word hit me like a physical blow. I felt the hitch in my shoulder. The phantom pain from the lighthouse.

​I turned to face her. I didn't let my expression move. I was a statue. I was a CEO. I was the man who had lied about the 'Heir Apparent' clause.

​"You are a Vane," I said. "And I am a Sterling. That is the only fact that survives the night. Everything else is... noise."

​"Noise."

​"Yes."

​I saw something shift in her eyes. The fire I had seen in the alley, the blue flame of her defiance, didn't go out. It changed. It became ice.

​She took a step back.

​The silence between us wasn't heavy anymore. It was hollow.

​"I understand," she said.

​Her voice was different. It was the voice she used when she was talking to the press. Economical. Controlled.

​"Isabella—"

​"No. You're right, Liam. The math is clear."

​She walked past me. She didn't look at me. She didn't brush against my arm. She moved with a sudden, chilling grace.

​She reached the door and stopped.

​"The 48th floor," she said. She didn't turn around.

​"Yes."

​"Tell Felix not to bother with the uplink. I’ll be using my own."

​"Isabella, the security protocols—"

​"I’m a component, remember? I know how the system works."

​She stepped out into the hallway.

​I stood in the empty boardroom. The green numbers on the wall were still climbing. We were winning. We were successful.

​I felt a sudden, sharp need to follow her. To say something that wasn't a lie. To tell her that the 'Heir Apparent' clause was a mistake, a flaw in the trust that I would fix.

​I took a step toward the door.

​Then I stopped.

​I looked at the mahogany table. I looked at the signed documents.

​If I went to her, I’d lose the leverage. I’d lose the control. I’d become the man Arthur Vane could destroy.

​I stayed in the room.

​I picked up my tablet. I started reviewing the Zurich sync.

​1:45 AM. Integration: 12%.

​I didn't think about the 48th floor. I didn't think about the way she had looked at me before the ice set in.

​I worked.

​3:00 AM

​The suite on the 48th floor was dark.

​I stood in the hallway, my hand hovering over the biometric scanner. I shouldn't be here. I had a briefing in five minutes.

​I pressed my thumb to the glass.

​The door clicked open.

​"Isabella?" I whispered.

​The room was empty.

​The bed was untouched. The curtains were open, revealing the same cold, electric city.

​On the desk, there was a single piece of paper. It wasn't a note. It was a printout of the market ticker from the boardroom.

​Across the bottom, in her sharp, elegant handwriting, she had written one thing.

​Variable removed.

​I checked the security logs on my phone.

​User: I. Vane. Exit: 2:12 AM. Service Elevator 4. Destination: Ground Level.

​She was gone.

​She hadn't taken the car. She hadn't taken the security detail.

​She had used the gap in the transition—the 45 minutes when the guards were changing shifts—to disappear into the city.

​My phone buzzed.

​Felix.

​"Liam, we have a problem," Felix said. He sounded breathless.

​"What is it?"

​"The Zurich server. Someone just triggered a manual override."

​"From where?"

​"Internal. But not from your terminal."

​I looked at the desk in the empty suite.

​"Isabella," I said.

​"Whoever it is, they’re not deleting the data, Liam. They’re encrypting it. They’re locking us out."

​I felt the floor drop beneath me.

​She wasn't running. She was retaliating.

​"Can we bypass?" I asked.

​"No. It’s using a 256-bit key based on... a frequency."

​The frequency from the island.

​The one she said was a dead drop.

​"She has the core," I whispered.

​"Liam, if she locks that server, the merger is a shell. We have the name, but we don't have the tech. The board will crucify us."

​I looked out the window.

​I saw a black sedan pulling away from the curb three blocks down. It was moving fast.

​"Find her, Felix. Use the satellites. Use the facial recognition. I don't care about the privacy laws. Find her."

​"I'm trying, but she’s ghosting the nodes. She knows exactly where the blind spots are."

​I hung up.

​I stood in the dark suite.

​I had wanted distance. I had wanted a professional arrangement. I had wanted to keep the asset secure without the risk of the person.

​I had won the war, but I had lost the prize.

​Cliffhanger:

​My phone buzzed again.

​Unknown Number.

​I answered.

​"Liam," her voice said. She wasn't crying. She wasn't angry. She sounded... analytical.

​"Isabella. Where are you?"

​"I’m where the math works, Liam. You said the foundation was paper. You forgot that paper can burn."

​"Don't do this. The board—"

​"The board is your problem now. You have the marriage. You have the name. But if you want the frequency, you’re going to have to change the terms."

​"What terms?"

​"The ones you lied about. I know about the 'Heir Apparent' clause, Liam. I’ve known since Jersey."

​I felt the air leave my lungs.

​"Isabella—"

​"I was waiting to see if you’d tell me. I was waiting to see if there was a person behind the CEO."

​"I was protecting the merger."

​"No. You were protecting yourself. And now, you’re going to watch the stock price drop."

​I looked at the ticker on my phone.

​Sterling Tech. -1%

​Sterling Tech. -2%

​She was leaking the lock-out to the dark pools. She was tanking her own fortune to destroy mine.

​"Isabella, stop. We can talk."

​"We're done talking, Liam. From now on, we only negotiate."

​The line went dead.

​I looked at the empty room.

​The structure had held. The trap had snapped shut.

​But I was the one inside.