MasukThe Sutton mansion was suffocatingly quiet. Nothing had been the same since the election night disaster. The loss hung over them like a toxic fog, but the public humiliation was far worse. Mr. Sutton sat rigid in his chair, his pride entirely shattered. Mrs. Sutton paced the floorboards, the sharp click of her heels betraying her intense anger. "I still don't understand how everything spiraled out of control," she said, her voice tight. "Everything was in place. Everything." Mr. Sutton exhaled a sharp breath. "That's why it makes no sense. We didn't just lose a close race, Eleanor. We were publicly dismantled." A heavy silence followed. Then, Arabella walked into the room. She didn't show an ounce of panic. Instead, she moved with absolute control, her face calm and thoughtful. It was a stark contrast to the broken parents in front of her. She stopped a few steps away, studying their faces. "You're both still trying to figure it out, aren't you?" she said softly. Mr. Sutton fr
The Ashcroft estate was quiet that evening. Mireya and Ronan walked into the lounge, their faces tight with frustration. The other day's disaster played on a loop in their minds, the leaked recording, the public disqualification of her father, and the complete humiliation of the Sutton name on live television."This wasn't an accident," Mireya said, dropping her bag onto an armchair. Her voice was low but steady."The timing was too precise. Someone coordinated this from the inside."Ronan's jaw locked. He paced the floorboards, his knuckles white. "I know. And I want the name of every single person involved. I trusted our security."Mireya sat down, trying to steady her breathing. Her hands were shaking from pure anger. "The tape was cut perfectly. Only my mother's voice was audible, stripped of any context. They knew exactly when the opponent would be delayed, and they dropped the audio at the worst possible second."Ronan stopped pacing, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "Arabella,"
"Today decides everything." The words stayed in Mireya's head while she stood before the mirror, adjusting the fabric of her dress. Her reflection looked composed, elegant, and steady. But underneath the surface, her chest felt tight. Behind her, Ronan adjusted his cufflinks, his movements precise. She knew him well enough now to see past the calm front. He was tense. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low. Mireya met his gaze through the glass. "I think so." He stepped closer, his presence grounding. "Whatever happens today, we handle it together." She nodded, though the anxiety behind her ribs refused to settle. "Together." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before stepping back. "Let's go." ☆☆☆ The venue was packed by the time they arrived. Supporters, officials, and reporters gathered in tight circles, waiting, watching, and whispering. The air felt heavy with anticipation. Mr. Sutton stood near the front podium, surrounded by his campaign team,
"They're gaining." The voice from the television cut through the room as Mireya stepped in, pausing as the news segment played. "...recent developments have shifted public interest toward the opposing candidate, especially following Montclair's endorsement earlier this week..." She walked further into the lounge, her expression composed, though her mind was already working through the tactical damage. Ronan picked up the remote and muted the TV, cutting off the reporter's voice. "The media's changing tone," he said, his voice flat. Mireya nodded, setting her files on the side table. "I noticed during the morning press briefings." He studied her face for a moment. "It's not a direct attack yet." "It won't be," she replied, leaning against the back of the sofa. "Not until they're absolutely sure the smear will stick to Dad's reputation." Ronan leaned back slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. "And until then?" "They plant doubt," she said simply. "They make the public ques
"Montclair just endorsed him."The words hung in the air like a heavy weight. Ronan stood by his office window, his phone in hand, looking at the announcement already spreading across every platform. Mireya sat opposite his desk, her face tense, while her father paced the floor with uneven, stressed steps."Are you sure?" Mr. Sutton asked, his voice shaking slightly.Ronan turned the screen toward him. "It's already everywhere."Mr. Sutton dragged a hand down his face, exhaling a ragged breath. "This is not good. Not good at all."Mireya leaned forward, looking between both men. "What exactly does an endorsement from Andy Montclair change for us?""Everything," Ronan said flatly. He set the phone on his desk and clasped his hands together. "Montclair doesn't attach his name to any candidate without intention. His support means immediate funding, political influence, and immense corporate pressure. It means doors closing for us and opening wide for our opponent."Mr. Sutton sank into a
"You said you wanted results." Arabella didn't flinch as she sat across from him, her posture composed and her gaze unwavering. "And I'm giving you exactly that." Andy Montclair leaned back slowly in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. There was something unsettling about the way he watched people. He didn't just listen, he measured. "You're asking me to interfere in a public election," Andy said, his voice calm. "Not a small favor." Arabella tilted her head. "Not interfere... influence." A faint smile touched his lips. "Same thing," he replied. She didn't argue. Instead, she leaned forward just enough to show intent. "They're winning. And if they win, you lose your chance to ever get close to Ronan Ashcroft again." That caught his attention. Arabella noticed the slight shift. "You have a grudge," she continued quietly. "And I have a reason. Our goals align." Andy's gaze sharpened. "You're bold." "I'm desperate," she corrected, her jaw rigid. "There's







