Looking at the envelope in his table Kane was confused, as far as he knew, he wasn't expecting any packages or documents today...
"Carl" he called his personal assistant
"Whats the folder for" he asked confusion written all over his face
"I don't know sir I met it on my desk with a note not stating where it's from but who it's for"
"Hm" he hummed as Carl bowed and went out
He opened it without thinking much
He froze, shocked by the folders content
Picture after picture each one worse than the last
Isadora, and his brother
His hands on her waist
Hers on his shoulder and his neck crooked to make it look like they were kissing
His vision hazed, anger fueling his thoughts
To anyone else it looked intimate
But to Kane it meant war
He stared at the pictures intensively, a vein bulging at the side of his head as his hand glids down Isadora in the picture
She was his,his and his alone...he chanted in his head like a ritual
What did fuck was Sebastian thinking, he would pay,he would pay tenfold
__
Across the city, Isadora was in a meeting when her phone buzzed.
A message from Kane.
> "Come to my office. Now."
No punctuation. No warmth.
Just gravity.
She excused herself, heart already racing.
—
When she arrived, the door was open.
Kane stood by the window, back to her, the photos spread across his desk like a crime scene.
She stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
"Kane—"
He turned.
His face was unreadable.
He didn't speak.
He just gestured to the desk.
She walked forward, eyes scanning the images.
And then she understood.
Her breath caught.
She looked up at him. "You think this is real?"
"I don't know what to think," he said, voice low.
"You don't know me by now?"
"I know you," he said. "But I also know him. And I know what he's capable of."
She stepped closer. "Then you should know I kneed him so hard he couldn't stand."
A flicker of something passed through Kane's eyes.
"I didn't tell you," she said, "because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of making it a thing. I thought ignoring him would kill him faster than reacting."
Kane looked at her, searching for cracks.
There were none.
Only fire.
Only truth.
He exhaled, slow and sharp. "He's trying to break us."
She nodded. "Let him try."
He stepped forward, closing the space between them.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For even hesitating."
She touched his chest, just above his heart. "You didn't. You're here."
He covered her hand with his.
Then leaned down, forehead resting against hers.
"I'll handle him," he whispered.
"I know."
They stood like that for a long moment — two people in the eye of a storm, holding on.
Then Kane pulled back, his voice low and dangerous.
"I want him ruined."
Isadora's lips curved. "Then ruin him."
__
Sebastian poured himself a drink.
Neat. No ice. Just enough to burn.
He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse, the city glittering below like a lie told too well. The glass in his hand caught the light, casting fractured shadows across his face.
He'd sent the photos two days ago.
He'd expected fallout.
A breakup. A scandal. A press leak. At the very least, a crack in Kane's perfect composure.
But nothing.
No headlines. No whispers. No chaos.
Just silence.
And Kane, still walking around like a man untouched.
Sebastian's jaw clenched.
He turned from the window and crossed the room to his desk. A sleek laptop sat open, a single email glowing on the screen — the one he'd sent anonymously, with the photos attached.
He clicked it open again, as if the images might look different this time.
They didn't.
They were perfect.
Too perfect.
He should've waited. Should've followed up with a second wave. A leak to the tabloids. A whisper to the board. A well-placed rumor at the next gala.
But he'd wanted to see Kane break.
He'd wanted to watch it happen in real time.
Instead, Kane had gone quiet.
Which meant one thing.
He didn't believe it.
Or worse — he did, and didn't care.
Sebastian downed the rest of his drink.
He wasn't done.
Not yet.
If Kane wouldn't break from betrayal, he'd break from pressure.
And if Isadora wouldn't fall from shame, she'd fall from exposure.
He opened a new message.
Typed a name.
Attached a file.
Hit send.
Then leaned back in his chair, smiling to himself.
"Let's see how long you last, little fox."