The morning sun slipped through the curtains in soft golden threads, warming Alexandra's face until her eyes fluttered open. She stretched instinctively, reaching across the bed—only to find cool sheets where Sam should've been.
A quiet groan escaped her. "God... what time is it?"
She scrambled for her phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up, and her stomach dropped.
"Oh my god. I'm late."
She shot out of bed, hair a tousled mess, and rushed into the bathroom. The shower was quick—a blur of warm water and frantic thoughts. By the time she stepped out, wrapped in a towel and breathless, she was already planning how to salvage the day.
Downstairs, the house was still and bright, sunlight spilling across the hardwood floors. In the kitchen, she froze when she noticed a plate of breakfast waiting neatly for her... and a handwritten note beside it.
For my favorite enemy. Breakfast is served.
May it make your morning as sweet as you make mine.
P.S. Had to leave early. Didn't want to wake you.
Alexandra felt her chest soften, a smile pulling at her lips before she could stop it.
"Sweet girl," she murmured, brushing her thumb over the note.
She sat and began eating, the taste warm and comforting, then she dialed Gwen.
"Good morning, Gwen," Alexandra said, swallowing a bite. "I'm running late. I'll be in by noon. Reschedule my meeting with Mr. Thomas—make it around three, tomorrow."
"Yes, Ms. Alex," Gwen replied. "And... I found something. Another supplier reported the same issues as the one Mr. Stevens mentioned."
Alexandra stilled, fork hovering midair. "Another one?"
"Yes. The pattern matches exactly."
Her pulse quickened. "Schedule a meeting with them. I want to speak to them myself."
"Right away, Ms. Alex."
Alexandra ended the call slowly, her mind already racing ahead.
After finishing her meal, she wiped her hands on a napkin and made her way toward Sam's study room. She paused at the doorway, guilt tugging at her chest.
"Forgive me, my love," she whispered. "I just need to understand what's happening."
The room smelled faintly of coffee and the clean, subtle scent Sam always carried. Papers lay organized across the desk, notes in Sam's handwriting, neatly tabbed documents, contract drafts. Alexandra's heart twisted—this was Sam's world, Sam's effort, Sam's legacy.
And someone was trying to destroy it.
She stepped inside, careful, quiet. Her fingers skimmed the edges of the documents before she began checking them one by one. She only photographed what seemed relevant—contract amendments, supplier correspondences, unusual renewal terms. Every click of her phone camera echoing her growing sense of unease.
When she finally finished, she sank briefly into Sam's chair, exhaling a slow breath.
If only you knew why I'm doing this.
She sent the photos to Gwen with a short message: Contact every company under these contracts. Discreetly.
Then she gathered herself, smoothed her dress, and left Sam's house—carrying the weight of love, fear, and determination all at once.
By the time Alexandra reached the office, the sun was already high, casting sharp lines of light across the towering glass facade of Holloway & Brand. She moved through the lobby with purpose; employees greeted her with polite nods, but her mind was already elsewhere.
Gwen waited outside Alexandra's office with her usual calm efficiency, tablet in hand.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Alex," Gwen said. "Your meeting with the supplier is confirmed. They chose a restaurant nearby—quiet, private. Perfect for discussion."
"Good," Alexandra replied, handing over her bag. "Let me settle in for five minutes, then we'll head out."
When Alexandra stepped into her office, her eyes drifted to the city skyline outside her window. Her reflection stared back at her—composed on the outside, tense underneath. She took a slow breath, grounding herself. This wasn't just business. This was Sam. Sam's company. Sam's reputation. Sam's legacy.
And someone was playing a dangerous game.
After reviewing the documents Gwen compiled and refreshing herself on Kingsley's contract history, she grabbed her coat.
"Let's go."
--
The restaurant was warm and softly lit, the kind of place where conversations felt private even when the tables were full. Alexandra spotted the man sitting in the corner booth—neatly dressed, fingers tapping nervously against his glass of water.
As she approached, he looked up, eyes widening in surprise.
"Alexandra?" he blurted, standing up. "Alexandra Brand? No way."
She paused mid-step. "I'm sorry...?"
"It's me. Lucas Reyes."
He laughed, almost incredulous. "We were classmates in grade school. I can't believe you don't remember—you used to beat everyone in math contests."
Her memory clicked into place, and her face brightened. "Lucas! Oh my—wow. It's been years." She shook his hand warmly before sliding into the seat across from him. "What a coincidence."
"Total coincidence," he said, settling back into his seat with a grin. "Makes this meeting feel less intimidating."
Alexandra smiled politely, but her tone shifted when their menus were taken away.
"Lucas, I appreciate you agreeing to talk. Gwen mentioned you had issues with a contract involving Kingsley Technologies. I wanted to understand what happened... directly from you."
Lucas's expression changed—hesitation flickering across it. He took a slow breath.
"Yeah. It was... complicated."
Alexandra folded her hands on the table. "Was it the CEO behind the changes?"
He shook his head immediately. "I don't think so."
She studied him carefully. "You don't think so—or you know she wasn't?"
Lucas leaned forward, lowering his voice. "The CEO was there during the early discussions. Smart, focused. Honestly, she was impressive. Knew her numbers. Asked the right questions. Everything seemed transparent."
Alexandra felt a subtle wave of relief wash through her chest—but she kept her expression neutral.
"So when did things go wrong?" she asked.
Lucas's shoulders tightened. "Right when it mattered most. When it was time to sign."
She waited.
"The Vice President took over," Lucas finally said. "He walked in and said the CEO had another meeting to attend. No explanation. Just—poof—she's gone. And he had a revised contract ready."
Alexandra's brows lifted. "Last-minute revisions?"
"Yes." He nodded grimly. "And not small ones. Our margin was supposed to be twenty percent. The revision dropped it to ten."
Alexandra inhaled slowly. "That's a massive cut."
"I know. But we were already deep in production—materials ordered, schedules set. Backing out would've cost us more than accepting bad terms."
"Did you report it to the CEO?" Alexandra asked softly. "The changes? The switch?"
Lucas hesitated, then shook his head.
"No," he admitted. "Something felt... off. The CEO gave the impression of someone fair. Someone who wouldn't tolerate shady practices. And yet, no one contacted us afterward. No follow-up. No clarifications."
He sighed, rubbing his thumb along the edge of his glass.
"I figured there must be internal issues. Maybe politics, maybe power struggles—I didn't want to get dragged into whatever was happening. So I took the hit, finished that one contract, and never renewed."
Alexandra remained silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of his words. A knot formed in her stomach—tight, icy, unmistakable.
Sam wasn't the problem.
Someone around her was.
"Lucas," Alexandra said quietly, "thank you. Truly. This helps."
He softened. "Just... be careful, Alexandra. Kingsley is a big company. Whatever's happening in there—someone's pulling strings."
Her grip tightened around the edge of the table.
"I intend to find out who."