Mag-log inRonan leaned back in his leather chair, eyes scanning the final page of the proposal, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You have to admit, Mireya... this is impressive. The numbers alone...." "They're too impressive," Mireya cut in gently, her tone calm but firm as she stood across from him with a tablet in her hand. The study was quiet, the heavy wood and dimmed lamps cutting them off from the rest of the house. Projections and digital timelines filled the desk space between them, all centered around one man: Sebastian Vale. Ronan exhaled, tapping the document. "Every investment has a baseline of risk. That doesn't automatically make it a trap, babe." "I didn't say it was a trap," Mireya replied, walking closer and placing the tablet on the mahogany desk. "I'm saying we don't fully understand the structure yet. And that alone is enough reason to slow down." Ronan studied her for a moment. There was no panic in her expression, and no fear, just a quiet certainty. That was what
"You're going to want to see this." Ronan's voice carried a quiet intensity as he stepped into the lounge, a sleek tablet in his hand. Mireya looked up from where she sat reviewing fabric samples, her brows knitting slightly at his tone. It wasn't urgency. It was curiosity, edged with something sharper. "What is it?" she asked, setting her work aside. He walked over, handing her the tablet. "An invitation. A high-level investment presentation. Private, exclusive... the kind people fight to get into." Mireya scanned the details. A luxury real estate showcase. Elite guest list. Limited entry. The numbers attached to the proposal were staggering multi-billion-dollar assets and projected returns that seemed almost too perfect. Her fingers stilled for a second longer than necessary on the screen. "And?" she asked softly, lifting her eyes to him. Ronan smiled faintly. "And I'm interested." ☆☆☆ The venue was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers reflected off polished marble floors, the
The Ashcroft boardroom was already packed before Ronan walked in. Executives sat stiffly with laptops open and financial files spread across the long mahogany table, the tension hanging thick in the air. No one spoke loudly. The weight of the previous day's corporate sabotage still lingered like a storm that hadn't fully cleared out of the building.Mireya was already there, seated right at Ronan's right hand. She flipped through the audit documents calmly, though her eyes missed nothing. Every single metric inconsistency, every delayed wire transfer, and every unusual systemic authorization went straight into her notes. "Let's begin," Ronan said, his voice steady and controlled as he sat at the head of the table. Everyone settled instantly. "This is no longer a routine operational issue. We are dealing with coordinated, targeted sabotage and internal compromise. From this moment forward, every single department operates under a strict security review. No assumptions. No blind trust.
The Sutton's mansion gleamed under the golden evening light, every corner polished to perfection. Arabella had insisted on hosting the meeting herself, a gathering that included her parents, Andy Montclair, and her own careful arrangements. While outwardly cordial, the air in the private room was thick with calculation. Andy sat at the head of the table, his expression calm but predatory, his eyes scanning the Suttons like a general assessing new recruits. "Arabella," he said smoothly, breaking the silence. "I must commend your work. Your ability to maintain the illusion of loyalty to the Ashcrofts is... impressive." Arabella's lips curved into a faint, controlled smile. "Thank you, Mr. Montclair. They've always been easy to guide when they believe it's in their own best interest." She placed a thin leather binder on the table, sliding it toward him. "Here's the latest data. Everything is proceeding exactly as planned." Mr. Sutton, completely oblivious to the subtle undertones o
The Ashcroft boardroom was tense. Executives shuffled papers nervously, their whispers low and uneasy as screens lit up across the room. When Ronan and Mireya walked in, the atmosphere shifted immediately. The weight of expectation and raw pressure filled the space."Let's begin," Ronan said, his voice calm but firm as he took his seat at the head of the long table.Mireya sat beside him, already flipping through the reports handed to her. Her eyes scanned the columns quickly, catching inconsistencies faster than anyone else in the room."Everything looks stable on the surface," Ronan added, reviewing the projections on the main screen.For a brief moment, it almost felt like a normal briefing. Then, everything crashed. Alerts began pinging across multiple screens at once. One. Two. Five. Ten. A sharp, suffocating silence fell over the room as the stock numbers began dropping in real time."What's happening?" one of the executives muttered, leaning forward.Ronan's eyes darkened as he
The next morning, Ronan's office was quiet. On the surface, everything looked completely normal, the usual hum of computers and the quiet murmur of staff filled the background. But Mireya's mind was anything but calm. She sat on the edge of the desk, pretending to review routine business projections with him, but her eyes scanned the room with a hawk's precision. "Have you looked at the security logs recently?" she asked casually, keeping her voice low. Ronan looked up from his laptop, his brow furrowing slightly. "Not really. Why?" "Small anomalies," she said, leaning in closer to show him the screen. "Time stamps are off by a few seconds. Doors left unlocked. Camera feeds going momentarily blank. It doesn't look like much on its own, but when you look at the whole picture, a pattern emerges." Before Ronan could even process her words, a faint noise echoed from the back of the room. It was a soft, sharp click, almost completely imperceptible against the background hum. Mireya's







