The boardroom smelled faintly of polished wood and old secrets. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Brown & Co., glinting off the long table where folders were stacked neatly at each seat. The invitation Lila had received had been vague—a casual meeting with certain board members to discuss her future involvement in the company. She knew better than to believe it was casual.
She adjusted her blazer, smoothing away invisible creases, and entered the room with the calm precision she had practiced in the mirror.
Several men and women were already seated, their faces carefully neutral. One man rose immediately as she entered, offering a polite smile. He was tall, with a lean, athletic build, dressed in a dark suit that fit him perfectly without shouting for attention. His features were sharp—angular cheekbones, storm-gray eyes that seemed to observe everything at once, and a faint scar near his jawline that made him look both dangerous and trustworthy.
"Miss Brown," he said, his voice warm but measured. "Adrian Cole. I've recently been brought in as a consultant for the board. It's a pleasure."
Lila shook his hand, her grip steady. "Consultant? In what capacity?"
"Corporate law, mostly. Making sure the company's assets are protected." A small smile curved his lips. "And, occasionally, making sure the heirs are as well."
Lila blinked at the subtlety of his words. He didn't lower his voice, but the board members shifted uncomfortably. He had just acknowledged her position, publicly, in a way none of them dared.
She sat, never breaking eye contact. "I see. Then I suppose you'll be watching me closely, Mr. Cole."
"Only as closely as necessary," Adrian replied, his tone respectful.
The meeting began, with one of the senior board members droning about quarterly earnings and future strategies. Lila listened, but she also listened between the words. She could see Amara's influence everywhere—careful mentions of "stability," repeated emphasis on "loyal stewardship," and subtle attempts to box her out without appearing hostile.
Then came the moment she had been expecting.
"We've taken the liberty," one of the men said, sliding a slim folder toward her, "of gathering certain files for your review. Your father's records. His personal notes regarding the company's direction. We thought it might help you understand his vision."
Lila opened the folder slowly. Inside were neatly arranged documents, too neat. They looked official, but something about them felt curated, staged. She flipped through pages of project outlines, memoranda, and contracts—nothing overtly suspicious, yet all carefully chosen.
This is Amara's hand at work, she thought. She wants me to believe this is everything. But it's too perfect. Too clean.
Across the table, Adrian watched her, his expression unreadable. He leaned forward slightly. "Miss Brown, if I may—"
The board member stiffened. "Mr. Cole—"
Adrian raised a hand politely. "Just a small note. These files are helpful, yes, but they're summaries. Drafts, not originals. If Miss Brown truly wishes to understand her father's decisions, she'll need access to the archived contracts and board minutes. Otherwise, she's only reading the board's… interpretation."
Silence rippled across the table. Several members exchanged uneasy glances. Lila hid her surprise, schooling her face into calm neutrality.
"Is that so?" she asked evenly, closing the folder.
Adrian gave a small nod. "It is. And I can arrange for the proper access—if, of course, the board has no objections."
The word if hung in the air like a challenge.
One of the older men cleared his throat. "Well… yes, of course. If that's what Miss Brown requires."
"Good," Lila said, her voice calm but firm. She slid the folder back toward them. "Because I want the truth. All of it."
The meeting ended shortly afterward, the board members leaving in stiff silence. Only Adrian lingered, gathering his briefcase.
"You handled yourself well," he said, glancing at her.
Lila arched an eyebrow. "Was that what that was? A test?"
"In a way." Adrian's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "They wanted to see if you'd accept whatever you were given. You didn't. That matters."
Lila studied him carefully. "And why did you help me? You don't even know me."
He straightened, his gaze steady. "Because I knew your father. Briefly, but enough. He was difficult, proud, but brilliant. He didn't raise daughters who would bow their heads and accept half-truths. And because…" He paused, lowering his voice just slightly. "I don't like manipulation. Not in business. Not in life."
There it was again—that undercurrent of honesty, quiet but sharp. Lila felt a flicker of something she hadn't felt in a long time: the urge to trust.
Still, she kept her tone cool. "Then I suppose I should thank you."
"No need," Adrian replied smoothly. "But I would advise you to be careful. Not everyone in this company has your best interests at heart. Some of them are afraid of you, others are loyal to someone else." His eyes darkened slightly. "And you already know who that someone is."
Amara.
The name didn't need to be spoken. It vibrated silently between them.
That evening, back at the mansion, Amara paced her study, her silk gown trailing like smoke behind her. Jackson stood stiffly in the corner, waiting.
"She didn't fall for it," Amara said sharply. "The files were too perfect, and she knew it. Worse—Cole was there."
"Adrian Cole?" Jackson asked cautiously.
"Yes." Amara's lips tightened. "I should have expected the board to bring in an outsider, but I underestimated him. He has a sharp mind, sharper tongue. And he saw through the performance."
"Shall I keep an eye on him?" Jackson asked.
Amara waved a dismissive hand. "Of course. But he's clever enough to notice a shadow. No—this will require something subtler. The girl is beginning to trust him. If he becomes her ally, that makes him my enemy. And I don't allow enemies to linger."
She stopped at the window, her reflection cold and unyielding. "We'll let him get close. Close enough to believe he's untouchable. Then, when the time comes, we'll remind him whose house he's stepped into."
Her smile returned, dark and gleaming.
Meanwhile, upstairs in the sisters' room, Arie sat cross-legged on her bed, her schoolbooks forgotten. She was watching Lila pace slowly, lost in thought.
"You're distracted," Arie said softly.
"I met someone," Lila admitted finally.
Arie's eyes widened. "Someone? Like…?"
"Not like that," Lila said quickly, though she wasn't entirely sure. "His name's Adrian Cole. He's sharp, smart. He helped me today—kept Amara's little performance from working. But…" She trailed off, staring out the window.
"But what?" Arie pressed.
Lila exhaled. "I don't know if I can trust him. And that's the problem. Because part of me wants to."
Arie leaned forward, her voice small but earnest. "Maybe you don't have to do all of this alone."
Lila turned, her gaze softening at her sister. "I don't. I have you. That's enough."
But later, when the lights were out and Arie's breathing had slowed into sleep, Lila lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
Adrian Cole's gray eyes haunted her thoughts—sharp, steady, and unafraid.
For the first time in years, she wondered if letting someone else in might not be weakness, but strength.