The mood at Hartley Enterprises was tense, the air heavy with unease. The usually confident Alexander Hartley stormed into the boardroom, his face dark with frustration. Around the table, his executives exchanged nervous glances.
“Another withdrawal?” Alexander barked, slamming a report onto the table.
His CFO nodded, barely meeting his eyes. “Two, actually. Rothman Capital and Silver Leaf Investments both pulled out this morning. It’s… Elena Beaumont’s doing. She’s poaching them.”
“Poaching?” Alexander repeated, his voice sharp. He leaned forward, his knuckles pressing into the table. “We’re not a minor firm she can toy with! Why are they jumping ship?”
The CFO hesitated. “She’s offering better terms, more flexibility… and, well, there’s the optics issue. Investors are nervous after the photo leak.”
Alexander’s jaw clenched. The leaked photo of him and Vivienne from five years ago had gone viral, sparking outrage and rumors of dishonesty in both his personal and professional life. He knew it was Elena’s doing, and now, with her alliances growing stronger, she was closing in on everything he had worked to build.
“Fix it,” Alexander snapped, his voice low but dangerous. “I don’t care how. I want their loyalty back by the end of the week.”
“Understood,” the CFO murmured, but the doubt in his eyes didn’t escape Alexander.
At the Hartley mansion, Vivienne paced the living room, a glass of wine in her hand. She had barely touched her food, and her perfect blonde hair was messier than usual. The pressure of Elena’s return was cracking her usual façade of confidence.
Alexander walked in, loosening his tie. He didn’t bother acknowledging her as he grabbed a whiskey from the bar and poured himself a generous glass.
“You’re late,” Vivienne said, her voice tight.
“I’ve been cleaning up your mess,” Alexander replied coldly, taking a sip of his drink.
“My mess?” she shot back, her voice rising. “That photo wasn’t my fault. It was her. She’s the one trying to ruin us!”
Alexander’s laugh was bitter. “Us? There is no ‘us,’ Vivienne. There never was.”
Her face fell. “How can you say that? After everything I’ve done for you—”
“Everything you’ve done for me?” he interrupted, his voice sharp with anger. He set his glass down with a thud, glaring at her. “You’re nothing compared to her. You never were.”
The words hit her like a slap. She stared at him, her lip trembling, but he didn’t back down. His cold, piercing gaze made it clear he meant every word.
“You’re pathetic,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “And you’ll regret this.”
Alexander didn’t respond. He grabbed his drink and walked out, leaving Vivienne standing alone in the dimly lit room, tears streaming down her face.
Over the next few days, Vivienne’s unraveling became public. She was seen drinking too much at high-profile events, slurring her words, and snapping at reporters who dared to ask about Elena. Photos of her disheveled appearance flooded social media, and whispers of her downfall spread like wildfire.
At one such event, Vivienne stumbled toward Elena, who was holding court among a group of investors. Dressed in a sleek black gown and exuding calm authority, Elena barely acknowledged Vivienne’s approach.
“You think you’re so smart,” Vivienne hissed, her voice loud enough to draw attention. “But everyone knows what you’re doing. You’re just bitter, trying to ruin Alexander and me because you’re jealous!”
Elena turned slowly, her gray eyes cold as ice. “Jealous?” she said, her tone calm and deliberate. She stepped closer, lowering her voice so only Vivienne could hear. “You think I’m doing this because of you? Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not even a footnote in this story.”
Vivienne’s face burned with humiliation. “You’re nothing but a bitter ex-wife—”
“And you’re just collateral damage,” Elena interrupted, her voice cutting like a blade.
Vivienne staggered back, her confidence crumbling under Elena’s icy composure.
Elena watched her retreat with indifference, her expression unreadable. She knew Vivienne’s public meltdown would only weaken Alexander further.
That night, Alexander stormed into Elena’s penthouse, the anger radiating off him like heat. He didn’t knock—he walked straight in, slamming the door behind him.
“Alexander,” Elena said smoothly, standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. She didn’t turn around, her calm demeanor only infuriating him more.
“Don’t play games with me, Elena,” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “What the hell are you trying to do? Destroy me? Take everything I’ve built?”
Finally, she turned, her expression cool and calculating. “I’m doing what I should have done years ago. Taking back what’s mine.”
“Don’t give me that self-righteous nonsense,” he growled, stepping closer. “This isn’t about justice. This is personal.”
“Of course it’s personal,” she said, her voice sharp now. “You made it personal the day you betrayed me, Alexander.”
His jaw tightened. “If this is about the past, then let’s talk about it. But dragging my company and Vivienne into this—”
“Vivienne was always part of this,” Elena interrupted, her tone cutting. “You made her part of it the night you decided she was worth more than your vows.”
Alexander stared at her, his anger simmering beneath the surface. “What do you want, Elena?”
She smirked faintly and walked to her desk, pulling open a drawer. From it, she retrieved a manila folder and held it out to him.
“Do you recognize this?” she asked.
Alexander frowned as he took the folder, flipping it open. His eyes scanned the pages, and his expression darkened with every word.
“This… this isn’t possible,” he muttered, his voice shaking slightly.
“Oh, it’s very possible,” Elena said, leaning against the desk, her arms crossed. “That’s the illegal deal you made with Pacific Holdings six years ago. The one that violated federal trade laws. The one that could destroy everything you’ve built if it ever went public.”
Alexander’s hands tightened around the folder. “Where did you get this?”
Elena’s smile widened. “Let’s just say I’ve always been more resourceful than you gave me credit for.”
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. She had taken it the night she left. She had been planning this for years.
“Why are you doing this?” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper.
She stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his. “Because, Alexander, you took everything from me. Now it’s my turn.”