LOGINThe private jet waited on the tarmac, sleek and silent, its polished surface reflecting the pale morning sky.Elena stood at the foot of the stairs, her coat pulled tight against the cool wind. This was it—the meeting Sebastian couldn’t attend, the first real test of the rules they had set only days ago.Sebastian stood a few steps behind her.“You’re sure about this,” he said, not as a question, but as a quiet acknowledgment of the risk.She turned to face him. “If I hesitate now, those rules mean nothing.”He nodded once. “Then I’ll be right here when you land.”She smiled, touched his arm briefly, and ascended the stairs without looking back.The meeting took place in Geneva, in a glass-walled conference room overlooking the lake. The setting was calm, almost serene—an intentional contrast to the sharp minds gathered inside.Three representatives sat waiting.Mr. Laurent, silver-haired and composed.Ms. Kovács, sharp-eyed and observant.And Mr. Hale—young, smiling, unreadable.“Ele
The morning brought with it a different kind of tension.It wasn’t sharp or threatening like the days before. There were no breaking headlines, no urgent calls, no enemies lurking in the shadows. Instead, it was quiet—too quiet. And that unsettled Elena more than chaos ever had.She sat at the kitchen island of the penthouse, sunlight spilling across marble countertops, her tablet open but unread. Across from her, Sebastian leaned against the counter, scrolling through his phone, his expression thoughtful rather than severe.This silence wasn’t distance.It was adjustment.“So,” Elena said at last, setting the tablet aside, “we should probably talk.”Sebastian looked up, one brow lifting slightly. “I was wondering how long it would take.”She smiled faintly but didn’t soften her tone. “We can’t pretend things are the same.”“No,” he agreed. “They’re not.”She folded her hands together, grounding herself. “When we started this… everything had structure. Rules. Timelines. Boundaries.” S
Morning light spilled softly across the penthouse, pale gold and unhurried. Elena woke with the unfamiliar sensation of peace—and the even more unfamiliar weight of an arm around her waist.She froze for half a second.Then memory returned.The kiss.The truth.The end of the contract.Sebastian stirred beside her, his breathing slow and steady. In sleep, the sharp edges of his control softened; he looked younger somehow, less guarded. Elena watched him quietly, heart full and uncertain all at once.This is real now, she thought. No clauses. No escape.She shifted carefully, but Sebastian’s eyes opened instantly.“You’re awake,” he said, voice low with sleep.“Yes,” she replied. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”“You didn’t,” he said, tightening his arm slightly. “I just don’t sleep deeply anymore.”She studied his face. “Because of the past?”“And because of the present,” he said, meeting her gaze.A small smile touched her lips. “That doesn’t sound reassuring.”“It is,” he said. “I’m awa
The war didn’t begin with an explosion.It began with silence.At precisely nine o’clock that night, the phones at Reynolds Capital stopped ringing—not because no one was calling, but because no one could get through. Accounts were frozen. Access revoked. Servers locked behind layers of security Victor had never known existed.Victor stared at his screen, disbelief twisting into fury.“What do you mean I don’t have clearance?” he snapped at his assistant.“I—I don’t know, sir,” she stammered. “Everything just… locked.”Across the city, Sebastian Vale stood in the glass-walled war room of Vale International, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up. Monitors glowed around him, displaying financial streams, legal filings, and live news feeds.“Execute phase two,” he said calmly.The legal team moved in unison.Federal filings were released—clean, airtight, devastating.Victor’s shell companies. Offshore accounts. Bribery trails. Hidden mergers. Evidence so carefully documented it could only
Elena sat alone in the quiet lounge of the Meridian Hotel long after Victor had left. The air felt heavy, dust motes drifting lazily through shafts of pale afternoon light. Her reflection stared back at her from the darkened window—calm on the surface, breaking underneath.Leave Sebastian.The words echoed like a curse.Her phone buzzed again.Sebastian (3 missed calls)Her chest tightened painfully. She pressed the phone to her palm, resisting the urge to call him back. Victor’s threat replayed in her mind with merciless clarity. If you tell him, the deal disappears.Hart Industries wasn’t just a company. It was her father’s legacy. His life’s work. The one thing she had sworn to protect.But Sebastian…He hadn’t promised her love. Not yet. What he had given her was trust, protection, and a space to grow stronger. And somehow, in the midst of strategy and danger, her heart had chosen him without asking permission.She closed her eyes.I have to be smarter than Victor.Sebastian knew
The call came just after midnight.Elena was awake when her phone vibrated on the nightstand, the screen lighting the dark room with an unfamiliar number. Her heart tightened instantly. Ever since the elevator incident, sleep had been shallow and restless.She answered before she could talk herself out of it.“Hello?”Silence.Then—breathing.Slow. Deliberate.“Victor,” she said quietly.“You sound tired, Elena,” his voice finally came, smooth and taunting. “Power struggles tend to do that.”Her fingers curled into the sheets. “If this is another attempt to scare me, it won’t work.”“I don’t need fear anymore,” Victor replied. “I need your cooperation.”Her pulse spiked. “For what?”“For a choice,” he said. “One you’ll make by morning.”She swung her legs off the bed, standing. “You don’t get to give me ultimatums.”“Oh, but I do,” Victor said calmly. “Because I still have something you care about.”A cold dread crept into her chest. “What did you do?”Victor chuckled softly. “Nothing







