The morning light slanted through my office blinds, thin and colorless. I hadn't slept much — maybe an hour, maybe less. The world outside was already awake, but my body moved like it was underwater.
The air smelled faintly of stale coffee and paper. My inbox was a battlefield — interview requests, internal memos, client inquiries pretending not to mention the scandal. I closed my laptop before the nausea could rise again.
A soft knock on the door broke the silence.
"Come in."
The door opened just enough for Kaelen to step inside. He was in dark grey, shirt sleeves rolled up, hair still damp. Too early for charm, too late for pretense.
I stood automatically. "You shouldn't be here."
"I know." He locked the door behind him anyway. "But I needed to see you."
He crossed the room in three strides and pulled me into his arms. The scent of him — cedar, sandalwood, faint traces of sleep — broke something in me. My body melted before my mind could catch up.
For a long, fragile moment, there was no board, no Bella, no headlines — only the rhythm of his breath against my neck.
Then he pulled back, searching my face. "Hanging in there?"
"Barely," I said, trying for lightness and failing. "You?"
His jaw flexed. "David is asking the shoots to start within the next 24 hours. The board wants a narrative out by tomorrow. Bella is making arrangements."
"Of course she is."
He hesitated, then said, "I think they want to use it to give her more control over Island Residence."
I studied him. "And you're going to let them?"
"I'm going to play along," he said quietly. "For now."
The words hung there, sharp as glass.
He walked toward my desk, pulling a file from his jacket. "David's hiding something. Financial irregularities — transfers that don't match project expenditure. If I can access the raw ledgers, I'll have proof. Enough to remove him from the board entirely."
I frowned. "You're going after him through the accounts?"
"I can't fight him head-on. Not while he has the media and Bella." He looked up, meeting my eyes. "But I can make him choke on his own numbers."
There was a fierce steadiness in his voice that reminded me why I'd fallen for him. But love and strategy didn't mix easily — not here, not anymore.
"You're risking a lot," I said softly.
"So are you."
"I won't let you do this alone."
His eyes flicked up to mine. "What do you mean?"
I smiled faintly. "I've already started."
He frowned. "Elara—"
"Sienna's working on it."
That got his full attention. "Sienna? As in your Sienna?"
I nodded. "She traced the original photo upload to a closed-source database. Whoever leaked it used an encrypted routing network tied to a dummy media account. Not amateur work — someone hired a professional."
"David," he said immediately.
"Or Bella," I replied. "She's clever enough to make it look like him. Either way, Sienna's close to finding the photographer."
For the first time since he entered my office, a hint of light entered his eyes. "You're going after the source."
I crossed my arms. "You're going after the motive. We divide and conquer."
He reached for my hand — slow, deliberate. The gesture was small, but it grounded me. For a moment, we were no longer lovers caught in a corporate war — just two people trying not to lose each other.
The space between us grew smaller, warmer. He brushed a thumb along my jaw, a gesture too intimate for an office. "You're impossible."
"You like impossible."
He smiled faintly — the first real smile in days. "You have no idea."
Then came the message on his phone.
He glanced down, the glow of the screen cutting across his features. "They're starting the Vision Campaign shoot this afternoon. Bella wants to do it here, at Sterling Group."
My mouth went dry. "Sure."
His eyes darkened. "I'll do what I have to, Elara. Just… trust me."
"I do," I said, though my voice betrayed me.
"Let her think she's winning," he said. "She wants control, visibility, and my attention. I'll give her all three — long enough to get close to David's accounts."
"You're playing with fire."
He leaned closer. "So are you."
The air between us felt heavy, like gravity itself had thickened.
"Then we burn together," I said quietly.
His hand tightened at my waist. "Elara—"
"Don't," I whispered. "Not here."
But his touch lingered, as if letting go would mean surrender.
Finally, he pulled back, exhaling hard. "We'll move fast. You find the photographer, I'll dig into David's transactions. We meet again in a few days — quietly."
"Alright."
He nodded once, all business again. But as he turned to leave, his voice softened. "Elara—be careful. Bella's not just playing PR. She's going to want something real this time."
I watched him go, the echo of his footsteps fading into the corridor.
Outside, the storm clouds rolled in over the skyline — grey, deliberate, inevitable.
Bella was going to strike again.And this time, she'd do it in my face.
It wasn't long after they arrived at the building.
Cameras. Stylists. PR staff in black.And Bella — dressed in white, the kind of white that demanded the room belong to her.
The Vision Campaign shoot.Inside Sterling Group.
"They were so arrogant", Pauline was updating me in my office. "You should have seen their faces! 'Permission granted by Vancourt's CEO himself'". I watched as Pauline tried to describe the scene to me, her face puffed in anger.
When Kaelen stepped out of the elevator ten minutes later, the light hit his face like a spotlight. He looked untouchable — crisp suit, cool composure, his tie just slightly undone like he'd been too busy to care.The cameras loved him. So did Bella.
"Kaelen," I greeted, my voice steadier than my pulse.
"Elara."His tone was calm, even.Professional.
As if he hadn't been in my office earlier in the day, his hand on my waist, his breath on my ear.
Bella looped an arm through his like she owned the gesture. "We thought this would be perfect," she said brightly. "A statement of unity. The two companies—one vision."
I smiled — all teeth, no warmth. "How thoughtful of you."
"Oh, and Kaelen insisted this floor had the best lighting."She looked right at me as she said it.
Kaelen didn't flinch. "It's efficient," he said. "Let them work."
I wanted to hate him in that moment — for the way his tone stayed even, for the way he didn't deny it. But I remembered our plan.He was playing along.He had to.
Still… the cameras didn't know that.
I retreated to my office, pretending to check emails, but the sounds bled through the glass walls — the click of cameras, Bella's laughter, Kaelen's low voice directing the shoot.
Sienna's messages blinked on my screen like a pulse:
Sienna:
Traced the photo's original upload.Someone used a studio account in Crescent Bay.Owner: private contractor, but I'm close.
Good. A lead.
Elara:
Stay on him. Quietly.And Sienna — don't trust anyone on the inside.
Sienna: You think it's internal?
Elara: I think it's personal.
A knock interrupted.When I looked up, Bella stood at the door. Alone.
"Busy?" she asked, already walking in.
I straightened. "What do you want?"
She smiled, setting her diamond bracelet perfectly in place before leaning on my desk. "You've always fascinated me, Elara. The way you stay so… composed. Even when everything's slipping through your fingers."
"Is that what you came to tell me?"
"No." She tilted her head. "I came to invite you to the next shoot. You should see what you're up against."
"I'm not competing with you."
"Oh, sweetheart." Her tone dripped sugar and venom. "You already are."
The door opened again — Kaelen.For one reckless heartbeat, I thought he'd stop her. Tell her to leave.
He didn't.
"Ready for the next segment, love?" she asked him sweetly.
His eyes met mine, something flickering there — apology, warning, maybe both. "Let's finish this," he said to her, voice even.
She brushed past him, but her perfume lingered, deliberate as a mark.
The moment they left, I pressed my palms to my desk.Steady. Breathe. This was part of the plan.
He's only pretending.
But the problem with pretending is how real it can look — when everyone else is watching.
And how easily you start to doubt the person you're pretending with.