Zara stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror of her rented loft. Her eyes were bloodshot, lips pressed into a flat line, her makeup from the previous day still smeared beneath her lashes. She looked like a woman unraveling—and maybe she was.
The headlines were relentless. ZARA WINTERS: THE WOMAN WHO BROKE VALE.Photos of her leaving ValeCorp in sunglasses and a tight-lipped expression flooded every media feed.A femme fatale. A corporate saboteur. A lover scorned.
No one knew the truth. Not even Lucien, not anymore. The version of her he was painting for the world was foreign—cold, calculating. But wasn't that what he wanted? The story, the shock value? She was the chaos to his control.
Still, she didn't expect it to hurt this much.
Zara tossed her phone onto the counter. Her hand trembled.
She should've walked away before this. Should've known Lucien Vale didn't let people close without a price. What had started as a partnership rooted in revenge had blurred into something… unspoken. Dangerous. Real.
But now it was ashes. Carefully staged, yes. But the line between fiction and reality had blurred.
She pulled on a black coat and stepped out. Paparazzi were already stationed outside. The camera shutters clicked like gunfire, questions flying like daggers.
"Zara, did you cheat on Lucien Vale with his CFO?""Are the rumors true—you were a corporate mole?""Did you plan to take ValeCorp down from the inside?"
She didn't answer. She slid into the waiting town car, lips sealed. Let them speculate. Let them build the fire. If Lucien wanted war, she'd give him one—but not on his terms.
Back at ValeCorp, Lucien sat in his corner office overlooking the skyline, the glass walls making him look untouchable. His suit was impeccable, as always, but his face was harder. Tighter.
Celeste Myles entered with a file. "The damage is worse than expected. Stock's down six points. Social sentiment is volatile."
He waved her off, staring at the tablet in front of him. Zara's name trended beside #LucienValeLied and #WinterStorm. The public couldn't decide whether to hate her or worship her.
"I want the next press release to emphasize loyalty and integrity," Lucien said. "Highlight the company's stance against internal threats."
"You mean her?"
He didn't answer. Just stared at the frozen video still on his screen—Zara, caught exiting his penthouse a week ago, lips red, shirt half unbuttoned. The moment had been intimate, raw. The tabloid's caption read:The Betrayer's Last Seduction?
Lucien closed the screen. His jaw clenched.
He hated how much he still thought about her.
The door behind him opened. Damien Blackwell, his closest ally and head of legal strategy, stepped in unannounced. "We need to talk."
Lucien looked up, surprised. "About?"
"Your feud with Zara is good for ratings, but bad for business. If this escalates, board members will start questioning your leadership. They're already whispering."
Lucien stood, hands in his pockets. "Let them whisper. It's all part of the narrative."
Damien studied him. "Is it really? Or are you letting this spiral because you don't know how else to deal with her?"
Lucien didn't respond. He couldn't.
Later that night, Zara received a call from an unknown number. She almost ignored it—but something in her gut said otherwise.
"Zara Winters speaking."
A pause. Then: "You're not safe."
It was a voice she didn't recognize. Female. Panicked.
"What?"
"They're setting you up. Something bigger is coming. They're not done destroying you yet."
Click.
Zara froze. Her heart pounded. Was it a threat? A warning?
She turned back to her laptop and pulled up her private archive of ValeCorp documents—the ones she'd stolen months ago, encrypted and hidden. She hadn't looked at them in weeks. But maybe now was the time.
She scanned through names, deals, meeting logs. Something didn't add up. There was a pattern emerging. Coordinated efforts to force a merger. Lucien had denied knowledge of it, but… what if he lied?
Zara exhaled shakily. She couldn't tell if this was still about revenge… or survival.
And the worst part?
She still missed him. She still wanted to believe he hadn't turned on her completely.
The next morning, the scandal reached its next level.
An anonymous leak posted a security camera clip—muted, grainy—but unmistakable.
Zara. Lucien. In the elevator. Locked in a heated kiss, hands roaming, her pressed against the wall as his mouth claimed hers.
It wasn't just scandalous. It was intimate.
The caption underneath was damning:"So much for professionalism. So much for truth."
The internet exploded.
Fans called it toxic. Rivals said it proved Zara had seduced her way into power. The board demanded answers. Shareholders panicked.
And Lucien—Lucien finally called her again.
"You leaked it, didn't you?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.
Zara's laugh was hollow. "I should be asking you that."
"I'm not the one being accused of manipulating my way to the top."
"No," she said coldly, "you're just the man who let the world believe I betrayed him. Who painted me as the villain so he wouldn't have to get his hands dirty."
Silence.
Then Lucien spoke, and his voice cracked with something—anger, or maybe something far more fragile.
"This is spiraling. Either we end it now, or we take it to the end."
Zara's throat tightened. "Define the end."
"Public fallout… or permanent alliance."
Marriage. Or obliteration.
Zara closed her eyes. "I need time."
"You have 48 hours."
And just like that, the line went dead—leaving her in silence, and the storm still brewing.