It was a really calm night. Beyond the glass, the skyline of Manhattan could be seen, with city lights glimmering against the darkness in a restless pulse. However, there was complete silence up here, on the 50th story of Steele Enterprises. The light from the tablet bounced off Isabella's face as she sat by herself in the darkened conference room. She saw columns of inventory numbers, delivery manifests, coordinates, and line after line of shipping data scrolling in front of her. Everything was carefully recorded. Everything is clean. Too tidy. Her jaw was clinched as her fingers drummed on the glass table's edge.
Steele had hidden the reality under layers of flawless perfection, but something was wrong. The patterns were too symmetrical, the numbers too exact. It was never that tidy in reality. She required more. He had to quit his fucking control games for her.
Footsteps clicked sharply outside the glass partition. Alexander. She knew it was him without having to look up. His stride had a steady, dominating rhythm that was as unique as his presence. The air changed like it always did when he stepped into the room. chilly. managed. Not unharmed, though. Isabella always sensed it. And she was angry about it.
He said in a quiet, silky voice that was laced with something unreadable, "You're still here."
She kept her eyes on the TV. "I'm a hologram, really. I am still here, of course, but you are unable to see others.
A rhythm.
Quiet.
Then— "I didn't believe sarcasm was a habit among soldiers." Her eyes narrowed as she finally looked him in the eye.
"And when lives are on the line, I didn't think CEOs developed a habit of hiding information."
The tension was there. The silent altercation between two individuals who would not compromise. Alexander's face was still hidden as he cocked his head and observed her intently. "Captain, I granted you more access. Maybe there is nothing to find if you haven't found anything.
She closed the tablet harder than needed and rose up, the chair scuffing the floor a little. "Something is there. I sense it. However, the person who hid their tracks was skilled at making it appear flawless.
He remained silent. Simply examine her. And she lost her temper because of that. "Are you even concerned?She stepped closer and demanded, her voice sharper but softer, with a hint of rawness. Or do you see this as just another game of numbers? Earnings? Control of damage? Steele, men died. Good men. She waited for him to lash out, to give her one of his icy, contemptuous retorts.
Instead, his expression transformed. Just a little. Nearly undetectable. And she saw it for the first time. The fissure. Not a sign of weakness. No—something more profound. managed discomfort. His voice wasn't icy this time, and he said, "I care." It was low. measured. but distinct.
The words hung between them like a confession neither of them had anticipated, lingering in the air. There was a long pause. heavy. tense. Isabella hated it as she swallowed, her shields faltering. Because she saw things up close that she hadn't previously allowed herself to notice. His shoulders were tense, and his hand curled slightly as though he was holding something back. and his eyes. There was something more substantial in those gray eyes than just cold steel. lonely.
She detested witnessing it.
Because it reminded me too much of staring into a mirror.
"I also lost people," he said, breaking the silence with a calmer tone. "Not troops. Not in battle. However, it doesn't make things any simpler.
Unexpectedly, she blinked. "What took place? Before she could stop herself, the words escaped her lips.
He paused, as though there was a price for his response. Then, at last—'My"dad. heart failure. It was...difficult. difficult. It was, of course. There was always loss.
She was unsure of what made her say it, but she did. "I apologize." It wasn't sympathy. She had no sympathy for men such as Alexander Steele.
For the first time, however, she saw him as a man rather than a CEO. One who shared her motivations for constructing his stronghold. to live. After a single, hardly noticeable nod, he straightened up and replaced the mask.
"Captain, you need some sleep. If you're only using adrenaline, you won't be able to accomplish your goal. She made a small line with her lips. "When I discover the truth, I will rest."
Alexander continued to stare at her for a time. Not chilly. Not stern. Just...knowing. Then he turned and walked away, his footsteps disappearing into the silence.
But Isabella noticed something strange as the glass doors shut behind him. The fissure in his armor? It was the same as hers.
And she was far more afraid of that than of any enemy.
She did this because she was aware that anyone might defeat an enem
y who was similar to them.