They'd been circling each other all night like wolves, now the room finally snapped.
Nathaniel's phone buzzed twice, sharp and insistent. He ignored it at first, watching Adrian with a quiet, dangerous patience. When it buzzed a third time he answered, voice flat.
"Talk."
His face changed as he listened. The color drained out of him in a way Lena had never seen. For a second he looked human frightened, angry then the mask slid back into place.
"We have a leak," he said at last, eyes never leaving Adrian. "Someone put the contingency file on every major feed. SEC copy. Market analysts,full spread."
Isabella let out a short, high laugh that was close to a sob. "What? How?" Her nails dug into the stem of her champagne glass. "That's impossible."
Adrian's smile was slow and satisfied. "Not impossible, useful."
Lena's stomach dropped. She felt cold all of a sudden, as if the glass around them were cracking. "What does it say?" she asked.
Nathaniel closed his eyes for a fraction of a beat, then opened them. "It makes you red meat. It names you. It names the terms. It names me." He spoke like everything he said had been rehearsed for a courtroom. "It looks like we manipulated Arcadia's shares directly tied to your public role. It looks like we used insider positioning to benefit Cross Enterprises."
The words hit the room like an explosion. Someone in the kitchen laughed, a thin, hysterical sound. Isabella started to cry softly, the practiced socialite veneer cracking.
On the wall-sized screen, a news ticker crawled: CROSS ENTERPRISES UNDER INVESTIGATION — LEAKED DOCUMENTS ALLEGE MARKET MANIPULATION. Video rolled of headlines, analysts, stock graphs diving. The camera cut to a financial anchor whose face was the day's face of triumph.
"Nathaniel Cross is now at the center of what insiders are calling a potentially massive market manipulation scandal," the anchor intoned. "Documents reportedly leaked from inside Cross Enterprises tie the company's sudden moves on Arcadia to a controversial contingency contract, and shockingly, name Lena Voss as a key signatory. We have reached out to Cross Enterprises for comment."
Lena felt the room tilt. "They named me," she whispered, her voice went small.
Ethan, who had been hovering by the door, suddenly spoke up. "That's not possible. Those are private internal"
"They made it public," Adrian cut in. "And public kills markets fast."
The phone on Nathaniel's desk started ringing in a shrill chorus. Board members would be called. Investors would panic. Lawyers would come. Regulators would mobilize, the penthouse, which had felt like the center of a private war, now felt exposed on a public stage.
Nathaniel pushed off the glass and walked to the windows, looking out at the city where the lights suddenly seemed harsher. "Contain the damage," he said to Ethan without turning around. "Call legal. Call media. Find the source."
Ethan moved, efficient and steady, but Lena could see the tightness at the corner of his mouth. He had the polished calm of someone who believed he could fix anything and that belief was now under siege.
Isabella stood up too, voice shaking but venomous. "This proves everything I said. She's a bought face. She's a..."
"Enough." Nathaniel's tone shut Isabella down like a gavel. He faced them all. "We handle this professionally, no theatrics, no interviews. I will address the board at nine a.m. No one speaks to anyone else."
Adrian folded his hands on the table. "Or we go public with a different spin."
"You won't," Nathaniel said, a quiet threat. Adrian's smile didn't fade. He liked the danger. He lived in it.
The news ticked on. Social feeds exploded. Lena's phone vibrated into life, buzzing with messages she didn't want to read. Every notification felt like a needle pricking a bruise.
"Miss Voss," Ethan said quietly, moving next to her. "You should go. Leave the building."
"Why?" she snapped before she could stop herself. Instinctively she pushed back. "Because I'm named? I'm not running."
"Because the cameras will eat you alive," he said. "Because this will get uglier. Because affiliates will call you complicit whether you are or not. Please just leave."
She looked at Nathaniel. For the first time since she'd met him, she saw a flash of something she couldn't place: worry. It was faint and ugly and human.
"Go," he said, simply.
She gathered her coat automatically, hands cold. She crossed the penthouse to the elevator and stepped inside, the mirrored walls flashing back her face tired, frightened, furious. When the doors closed she realized she had nowhere to go that wasn't watched. Her apartment was already under a dozen digital gazes. Reporters would camp out. Investors would call her parents. Her name was now a weapon used by people she didn't know.
On the lobby screen, the anchor continued. "We have unconfirmed reports that the SEC has opened preliminary inquiries. Cross Enterprises has not yet responded to our requests. Stay with us for live updates."
By the time Lena reached the street, the air felt thin. She walked two blocks, then three, trying to put distance between herself and the glass fortress where everyone's eyes were trained. She needed air, space, something to steady the panic.
Her phone buzzed again. A text this time. No name just a number.
We have enough to press. Be careful. A.
Her heart tripled its pace. Adrian. He had access, he had motive. The text felt like a knife.
She dialed Ethan. It went straight to voicemail. She tried Nathaniel, but his line was busy. She typed a reply to the unknown number: Who are you? What do you want?
The response came immediately, almost impatient.
You're in deeper than you know. Don't trust the board tomorrow. Don't trust Nathaniel's enemies. Either they end you or you end the game. A.
Lena stared at the text like it had burned her. End the game. What exactly did that mean? How did one end a game where the rules were written by billionaires and old money?
Her phone buzzed again, but this time it was a different kind of sound the clipped, uniform knock she knew too well from law shows: a code for official business. She looked up to see two black SUVs pull up across the street. Men in suits got out, badges flashing for a single, stunned moment.
She was still holding her phone when a man in a navy suit stepped forward and spoke into a radio. "Unit two confirming. SEC field agents, downtown," he said.
No one in the street seemed to notice, but Lena did. Her stomach flipped. She felt suddenly very small.
Her phone buzzed once more. Unknown caller. She let it ring. And ring. Then a voice, low, official, came through.
"Miss Lena Voss?"
Her throat closed. "Yes."
"This is Special Agent Morales with the Securities Enforcement Division. We have questions regarding transactions involving Arcadia Group and Cross Enterprises. We need to speak with you. Please come with us for a voluntary statement."
Lena's knees went weak. Voluntary. Words that always come before a handcuff in the movies. She could picture the camera angles, the headlines, the court dates that would follow.
Her breath fogged in the cold air. She thought of the penthouse, of the unopened folder, of Nathaniel's steady eyes. She thought of Adrian's smile. She thought of Isabella's warning.
Behind her, the glass tower rose, lights burning, the city a field of small bright alarms. She felt the world narrowing two SUVs, a folder, a leaked document, a text from a man who wanted something. The game had moved to the streets.
She looked down at her hands then up at the sky as if trying to find a place where she might hide.
"Okay," she heard herself say. "Where?"