The rain had started just after midnight.
Elena stood at her living room window, watching droplets race down the glass. Her emerald gown lay discarded on the chaise, and her bare feet were planted on the cold marble floor like roots. She'd barely moved since returning from the gala.
Grayson's words clung to her skin like damp mist.
-I never stopped meaning it.
She closed her eyes, his face flashing behind her lids. The emotion in his voice. The heat in his eyes. The way his hand had lingered, just barely, on her shoulder. A touch that still burned.
But she wouldn't let herself fall. Not again.
The Next Morning at Monroe Holdings...
Elena's heels clicked through the hallway with lethal precision. Staff parted like the Red Sea. Even Nico, ever unbothered, took a step back as she entered the conference room.
"Update," she snapped.
He tossed a folder onto the table. "He's not slowing down. He's working every backdoor deal he can find. Logistics, suppliers, media. Grayson Wolfe is methodically trying to isolate you."
"And what's our counter?"
"We've rerouted our shipment partners through foreign subsidiaries. But it's only a matter of time before he tracks the connection."
Elena's fingers drummed the desk. "Then let's feed him a fake trail."
Nico grinned. "My kind of dirty."
Elena looked up. "And Sophie?"
"She's with your aunt. Guards posted. She's safe."
Elena exhaled slowly.
"Good. Because the next time he tries to get near her… I won't be so diplomatic."
Wolfe Enterprises – Private Floor...
Grayson paced in his office, storm cloud fury masked under a designer suit.
"She dodged your surveillance?" Jessica asked, glancing up from her tablet.
"She didn't dodge it," he muttered. "She manipulated it. Fed us false data."
Jessica raised an eyebrow. "That's bold. Even for Elena."
"It's personal now."
"She's a mother. It was always personal."
Grayson didn't reply. He picked up a photo of Sophie on his desk, the one Elena had ripped in half at the hospital.
"Set a meeting with Damon Krane," he said finally.
Jessica froze. "That's not a line you cross lightly."
"I don't care. If Krane wants to play puppeteer, I want to cut the strings."
That night at Monroe Penthouse,
The apartment was quiet when Elena stepped inside. She hung her coat, slipping off her heels and sighing into the silence. Her muscles ached from tension, but her mind wouldn't slow down.
She padded to Sophie's room. The little girl was curled beneath a fuzzy blanket, hugging the talking bear. The one Grayson had sent.
Her chest ached. Again.
A light knock sounded behind her.
Startled, she turned sharply.
Nico stood there. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
Elena motioned for him to speak.
"There's something you need to see."
Security Room – Monroe Holdings Basement,
Elena stared at the footage in silence. The video looped again and again.
A man. Clean suit. Unfamiliar face. Walking past security at her private parking lot. No hesitation. No camera disruption. But the timestamp? Just after the gala.
"He didn't go for Sophie," Nico said. "He left something in your car."
They pulled up the next clip. A flash drive slipped between the passenger seat and center console.
"Call bomb squad."
"We already checked. Not explosive. But encrypted as hell."
Elena narrowed her eyes. "Have it decoded. I want to know who he works for."
Nico hesitated.
"What?"
"The face recognition came back with an old Wolfe security team ID."
Elena's blood ran cold.
Grayson.
A Secret Meeting The Next Morning...
She found Grayson waiting at the Hudson Pier, leaning against a railing, the morning mist curling around him.
"You're brave," she said flatly. "Or stupid."
Grayson turned slowly. "You saw the drive?"
"I saw your mole."
"I didn't send him to hurt you."
"You keep saying that."
He pulled a second flash drive from his pocket. "The one in your car is a decoy. This is the real one. What I couldn't send through channels."
"And what's on it?"
"Krane's off-the-book child trials. Experimenting with cognitive implants on minors. He's building an army, Elena. And your daughter? She's at the top of his interest list."
She stared at him. "You think this will make me trust you?"
"No. But it'll make you realize we're fighting the same war."
She took the drive, fingers brushing his.
Grayson's gaze held hers. "I'll always choose her. Even if you never choose me."
That Night at Monroe Penthouse...
Elena sat in her study, watching the decrypted files play out on her monitor. Children strapped to gurneys. Machines wired into their heads. Medical charts with blacked-out names. She fought the bile rising in her throat.
She had underestimated the danger.
Grayson hadn't lied.
A knock at the door startled her. She turned.
Nico entered, tense.
"We've got movement on Krane's end. He's staging a press attack. Anonymous leaks about your past."
Elena arched a brow. "My past?"
"Specifically… Sophie's paternity. He's trying to paint you as unstable. A gold digger. Fabricating a child to take down Grayson."
Her blood boiled.
"Then let's give them a headline."
Nico grinned. "A press conference?"
"No. A photoshoot. With Sophie. We're releasing a full charity spread. Mother and daughter. Clean, radiant, unstoppable."
Later That Week – Media Uproar...
Social media exploded with images of Elena and Sophie, smiling in coordinated outfits, reading books together, playing piano, laughing on a garden swing. The public response? Overwhelming support.
"She's a devoted mother."
"Look at the resemblance."
"Wolfe's the one hiding something."
And just like that, the narrative shifted.
Grayson saw the photos on a billboard while driving.
Sophie's smile hit him like a punch.
He pulled over, gripping the wheel.
Tears stung the corners of his eyes.
Late night, Elena's Bedroom...
The wind howled through the open balcony doors. Elena stood in a silk robe, wine glass untouched in her hand.
Her phone buzzed.
Grayson: "Thank you. For the photos. She's perfect."
Elena stared at the screen for a long moment.
Then typed:
Elena: "Don't thank me. This was war. I just fired the first bullet."