CHAPTER NINE - STORMFRONT

Tuesday morning came like a knife through silk.

Aiden sat at his desk, surrounded by people pretending not to look at him.

No one said anything out loud. But silence—weaponized silence—was louder than any rumor.

Clarissa didn’t meet his eyes. Carter avoided him altogether.

Julian was locked behind his glass office. Again.

This time, though, he didn’t look composed. He looked… strained. Like something was fraying behind his shirt collar, and no amount of tailoring could hold it together anymore.

Aiden hadn’t slept.

Had barely changed clothes.

He wasn’t sure if he was still fighting to stay, or just waiting to be told to leave.

By noon, the email came.

> Subject: URGENT: Compliance Discussion – Immediate

Please report to Floor 41.

This is a mandatory meeting.

—HR Dept.

—

Floor 41 again.

The glass conference room. The silence. The clean coffee cups no one drank from.

Julian wasn’t there this time.

Instead, Harold VanDermere—Julian’s grandfather—sat at the head of the table.

Aiden froze at the sight of him.

He’d only seen Harold in company media. Rare photos. Press releases. The man who built the empire from nothing. The real CEO, even if Julian had been groomed as the shadow prince.

Harold’s presence was a thunderclap.

“Sit, Mr. Shaw,” he said, voice calm but firm.

Aiden sat.

The HR director cleared her throat. “Mr. Shaw, your proximity to Mr. Vince has created some… complications.”

Harold didn’t blink. “There are eyes on this company, son. Eyes that don’t care about feelings. Just perception. Narrative.”

Aiden straightened. “We haven’t done anything inappropriate.”

“I’m not interested in what you’ve done,” Harold said. “I’m interested in what people believe you’ve done.”

Aiden opened his mouth—then stopped.

Harold leaned forward. “I’m going to offer you something very few people get: a clean exit. No scandal. No shame. Full recommendation for any firm you apply to next.”

Aiden’s chest tightened. “You want me to quit.”

“I want this company to survive.”

“And what about Julian?”

Harold’s expression didn’t change. “He was born to lead. You were born to learn.”

Aiden’s voice shook. “You don’t know him. Not really.”

“I know what pressure turns a man into,” Harold said. “And I know when someone threatens that shape.”

Silence.

Then: “You have until the end of day.”

—

Back at his desk, Aiden couldn’t focus.

He barely heard Carter awkwardly ask him if he was okay. He didn’t notice Clarissa glance at him twice. He only noticed Julian—watching from behind the glass.

They hadn’t spoken since last night.

Now, they didn’t need words.

Everything was falling apart anyway.

At 3:22 p.m., Aiden’s inbox pinged again.

> From: J.V.

Meet me. 3rd floor. Archive elevator. Now.

—

The hallway to the service elevator was dark.

Julian was already there, leaning against the wall like gravity had finally gotten to him.

He looked exhausted. Raw. More man than heir now.

Aiden stepped into the space. “He offered me a deal.”

Julian nodded once. “I know.”

“You told him to, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“But you didn’t stop him.”

Julian’s throat worked. “I thought if I stayed silent, he’d just… let it go.”

Aiden stepped forward, closer than he should’ve.

“And did he?”

“No,” Julian whispered. “Because he never does.”

They stood inches apart.

Julian looked down at the space between them.

“I’m so used to protecting this company,” he said. “I forgot what it means to protect someone else.”

Aiden swallowed hard. “Then do it now.”

Julian lifted his eyes.

But before he could speak, the elevator doors opened.

Julian reached for Aiden’s wrist.

“I’m not letting them take this from me.”

Aiden blinked. “Then what—”

But Julian had already pulled him inside.

The elevator shut.

And for a full five seconds, neither of them said a word.

Just stood there.

Close. Too close.

Breathing the same air.

Then Julian leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Aiden’s.

Again.

Just like before.

Only this time, he didn’t stop there.

His lips brushed Aiden’s.

A whisper of a kiss.

Soft. Desperate. Real.

And Aiden kissed him back.

No heat. No flash.

Just quiet recognition.

Of everything they hadn’t said. Of everything they weren’t allowed to feel.

The elevator dinged again.

They broke apart.

Julian didn’t say a word.

Just looked at him.

And Aiden understood.

Whatever came next—they were in it now.

Together.

—

But when Aiden returned to his desk, a new message was waiting.

From an anonymous address.

> “They saw. Check your inbox. You’ve been recorded.”

Attached was a blurry still frame:

Him and Julian.

Elevator. Lips touching.

Frozen in time.

Aiden stared at the image.

Everything tilted.

They had proof.

Not just rumors.

Proof.

And whoever sent it?

Wanted it… used.