Nova’s return home hit Alex like sunlight after a long storm. Seeing her mother wheeled into the living room, frail and pale but alive, was a gift she didn’t dare hope for. She hovered nearby, helping adjust pillows, watching tiny breaths, even tracing Nova’s hand with her eyes. This was a victory in itself.
Luca, however, remained distant. Their conflict unresolved.
A few evenings later, Luca asked her to suspend going to university for now. “Study from home,” he said quietly. “I can’t juggle everything—Nova’s care, hospital visits, Steel. You’ll help more from here.” Alex nodded; inwardly relieved that he didn’t know (or hadn’t asked) about the deal that had collapsed. That collapse was still too raw, too dangerous to confess.
So she settled into her new routine: Steel’s offices during the day, few virtual lectures when she could, and long nights of reports, projections, and strategies. Slowly, staff began to accept her presence. Junior associates greeted her by name. Middle management offered small feedback. A few deals went through flawlessly. She felt—just a little—vindicated.
Yet she never let her guard down.
***
One late night, the building empty except for night security and the hum of computers, Alex sat in her office poring over the month’s final ledgers. Most lines were clean, expected. But one account made her blink.
A product line—they called it Model C-9—showed a discrepancy. Revenues overstated. Costs understated. Margins inflated to impossible levels. Her heart skipped. She checked versions: nightly backups, older drafts, audit logs. Every version identical. No corrections. No trace of someone trying to legitimize it. Instead, it looked intentionally planted.
Her pulse pounded. If this got out, the police or regulatory bodies could declare fraud. They’d question earnings, suspect manipulation. The damage would be catastrophic.
She immediately messaged her team:
“We’ve got a problem in Model C‑9. Investigate irregularities—locked the lines temporarily. Do not share beyond this group.”
Minutes passed with no response. Then faint replies trickled in: “On it.” “Copy that.”
But Alex knew. She already knew who had the power to infiltrate these ledgers, seed that poison, and pin the blame on her.
Zade.
Her fingers trembled as she opened her draft message. She typed, hesitated, then sent it:
“Did you plant the discrepancies in C‑9?”
Moments later, her phone pinged.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
A lie, obvious and cold.
She slammed the laptop shut. Then she stood, ignoring the fatigue that tugged at her bones, and commandeered the company car again. She needed answers.
***
Zade lived in a mansion that Alex had only seen from the drone of corporate press photos. Its gates were guarded, driveways long. But she had the address. She drove up to the front—security torches lit, a hush in the air.
Before she could ring the bell, a tall man stepped out from the side door. Dark hair, expensive coat, eyes sweeping her up and down.
“Excuse me?” said the man, stepping forward. “May I help you?”
Alex stared. Something about him was familiar.
“You’re Andrea?” she asked, voice brittle, suddenly remembering him from one of the pictures she's seen in her dad's documents before they vanished.
He bristled. “Yes. Andrea Hale. And who are you exactly?”
“I’m—Zade’s fiancée,” she said, though her throat felt thick. She forced herself to remain steady.
He sneered, stepping closer. “Rates of intrusion have been rising. Now you show your face? Let me warn you, little rat—if you ever come here uninvited again—” He raised his hand as if to strike a loose warning gesture.
The sound of footsteps behind him made Andrea stiff.
Zade appeared at that moment, his gait effortless. He cut off Andrea with a gesture, walked toward Alex and took her arm.
“Andrea, enough,” he said quietly, firmly. He turned to Alex. “Come. Let’s go.”
Andrea glowered, but fell back. Alex blinked, trying to assimilate the scene. Her assertion, her anger, her need for truth seemed swallowed by the sudden gravity of Zade’s presence.
She pulled away slightly, voice sharp. “Why defend me? Why save me in front of his brother?”
Zade’s expression was unreadable. “Because of our arrangement,” he said bluntly. “And because you’re part of it now, whether you like it or not.”
He held her arm, not harshly, but immovable. “Don’t come here again, Alex. There are consequences to trespass beyond what you understand.”
Alex’s heart hammered. She watched as Zade turned and walked back inside, leaving her alone outside his gates.
She stood in the driveway as the door shut behind him, her fists curled, mind spinning.
Why protect her from his brother? Why warn her off the grounds? If Andrea was dangerous and Zade’s family even more so, was he trying to keep her close? Or keep her caged?
She didn’t know. And in that moment, confusion washed over her louder than any clarity.
Backing away, she said quietly, “Damn you, Zade.” Then walked to her car and drove off into the jagged night.
***
She drove back in silence.
By the time she reached the house, the sky had dipped into full night. She wondered if Luca was asleep.
But he was waiting.
Sitting stiff on the living room couch, stacks of papers and reports beside him.
He looked up when she stepped inside.
“You’re home late.”
Alex swallowed hard. “I had to go somewhere.”
His eyes narrowed. “Where?”
She stepped forward, barely taking off her coat. “I went to Zade’s mansion.”
Luca’s posture changed instantly. His jaw locked. “You what?”
“I needed to confront him,” she said, rushing through the words. “He’s been sabotaging Steel from the inside. He planted financial irregularities. It’s not speculation—I saw the ledger, I traced the changes. And tonight, I—”
“Enough.” Luca stood, voice louder than she’d heard in weeks. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Dad—”
“I said enough, Alex!”
His voice cracked like thunder, and the silence that followed was worse than a slap. Alex froze mid-step.
Luca’s hands trembled at his sides. “Do you know what you sound like? Do you even realize what you’re saying?”
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” she shot back. “Zade is destroying this company from within. He wants—”
“Do you hear yourself?” Luca growled, taking a step closer. “You’re accusing the very man who’s kept us afloat the past few months. You want me to believe he’s playing some twisted revenge game just because you don’t like him?”
“It’s not about liking him!” Alex shouted. “It’s about the truth!”
“Alex, you’re lashing out, blaming everyone but yourself for things going wrong.”
Alex’s breath caught. “You think I’m making this up?”
“I think you’re still a child,” he spat. “Angry because life didn’t go your way. You never wanted this marriage. You hated every part of it from day one. Now you’re desperate to tear it apart, even if it means dragging the company down with you.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Dad…”
“Don’t ‘Dad’ me,” he snapped. “You think you’re protecting Steel? You’re not.”
Alex’s hands trembled. “Why won’t you believe me?”
“Because I know you,” Luca said, voice low and bitter now. “You run. You react. You don’t think. You’ve always wanted to be taken seriously but you can’t handle the pressure when it hits you back.”
“I’m trying,” she whispered. “I’m doing everything I can.”
He looked away. “Then try harder.”
The words landed like stone.
Luca didn’t yell again. He didn’t have to. The silence said more. He turned back to his papers like the conversation never happened. Like her warning meant nothing. Like she was nothing but a stubborn daughter with an overactive imagination.
Alex stood in the doorway, a thousand emotions crashing through her. And worst of all—defeat.
She wanted to scream. Shake him. Force him to see what she saw. But what good would it do? He didn’t believe her. No one did.
And maybe that was exactly what Zade wanted.