The announcement came three days later.
Not leaked.
Not rumored.
Official.
"Aurelius Group Appoints New Executive Strategy Director."
Her name.
Her photo.
Front page of every business platform by noon.
She didn't smile in the picture.
She didn't need to.
Across the city, a glass shattered.
Her ex stood frozen in his office, phone still in his hand.
"She wouldn't," he whispered.
But she had.
And she hadn't just joined his rival.
She had taken a position equal to the one she once held—only this time, publicly.
Deliberately.
Strategically.
And timed perfectly before his investor review.
At Aurelius headquarters, cameras flashed as she stepped up to the podium beside him.
The rival CEO didn't touch her.
Didn't stand too close.
But the message was clear.
Alliance.
Not scandal.
"Why the sudden move?" a reporter asked.
She held the mic calmly.
"I believe growth requires the right environment."
No bitterness.
No accusation.
Just facts wrapped in silk.
"And what does Aurelius offer that your former company didn't?" another journalist pushed.
She paused.
Then said, "Transparency."
The word landed like a slap across town.
Her ex watched the livestream.
Transparency.
He felt something shift in his chest—not anger.
Fear.
Because transparency meant she might know things.
Things he thought were buried.
Later that evening, she stood alone in her new office.
Bigger.
Brighter.
A skyline view that stretched like a promise.
"You caused chaos without raising your voice," he said from the doorway.
She didn't turn.
"You caused the press cycle," she replied.
"I accelerated it."
She finally faced him.
"You enjoy this."
"I enjoy strategy."
A beat of silence.
"You understand what this means, don't you?" he continued. "He won't stay quiet."
"He already isn't."
She showed him the anonymous message.
He read it once. Then again.
"Do you think it's him?" he asked.
"No."
"Then who?"
She met his eyes.
"Someone who doesn't want us aligned."
That was when his expression changed.
Not amused.
Alert.
"You didn't tell me everything," he said quietly.
She stepped closer—but not vulnerable. Calculating.
"I told you enough."
"And the rest?"
She held his gaze.
"I'll reveal when necessary."
For the first time, tension shifted.
This wasn't just recruitment anymore.
This was partnership.
And partnership meant risk.
Across the city, in a dim underground parking lot, a man leaned against a car, scrolling through news on his phone.
Her photo glowed on the screen.
He smirked.
"She moved faster than expected."
Another voice answered from the shadows.
"Does he suspect?"
"Not yet."
"And the accident?"
"Soon."
The phone screen went dark.
That night, as she drove home from her first official strategy meeting, rain began to fall.
Heavy.
Blinding.
Her windshield wipers struggled against the storm.
Then—
Headlights appeared behind her.
Too close.
Too fast.
Her pulse slowed instead of spiking.
Not panic.
Calculation.
The car swerved suddenly—
And slammed into her rear bumper.
Metal screamed.
Her steering wheel jerked.
The car spun once—
Twice—
Before stopping inches from the highway divider.
Silence.
Rain pouring like static over everything.
Her hands remained on the wheel.
Steady.
In her past life, this was how it began.
An accident.
A cover.
A story no one questioned.
But this time—
She had already changed the timeline.
The driver behind her stepped out slowly.
Hood up.
Face hidden.
Walking toward her door.
She reached into her bag.
Not for a weapon.
For her phone.
And pressed one button.
Auto-dial.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then—
"I was wondering how long it would take," she said calmly into the receiver, eyes locked on the approaching shadow.
On the other end of the line—
His voice.
"Stay in the car."
The shadow stopped.
Just for a second.
As if realizing—
She wasn't alone this time.