The heavy mahogany doors of Victor Voss's private study shut with a dull thud behind Damien as he stepped inside. The air was thick with cigar smoke and something far more dangerous—calculated menace. Victor sat behind his massive desk, the golden glow of his desk lamp throwing shadows across his face. There was a glass of aged whiskey in his hand, the kind he only poured when something dark was in motion.
Damien didn't sit. He stood stiffly in front of the desk, shoulders squared, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes—like even he knew the line they were about to cross.
"She's being watched," Damien began, his voice clipped and low. "Two men, ex-military. Quiet. Loyal. I made sure of it."
Victor sipped his drink slowly, not saying a word.
"They'll wait for the right time. Stephanie's routine is predictable. A few more days to be sure, and they'll take her."
Victor finally looked up, his eyes hard as iron. "No mistakes, Damien. This isn't about hurting the girl. Yet. We need her alive and unharmed. She's bait. Understand?"
Damien gave a short nod. "Understood."
Victor leaned back in his leather chair, the lines on his face carved deeper by years of secrets and sins. "Elizabeth Quinn has been hiding for too long. We've rattled every cage, burned every record, and she still slips through. She's dangerous, especially now that Nathan's clinging to her daughter like a shield."
He swirled the glass in his hand, watching the amber liquid move. "But she won't stay in hiding if the daughter is threatened. She'll come running. That woman's weakness has always been her family."
Damien's jaw clenched. "You think she'll actually show herself? After all these years?"
Victor's eyes gleamed. "She'll have no choice. Especially if Stephanie disappears and there's just enough of a trail to tempt Elizabeth's guilt."
There was a moment of silence before Damien spoke again. "And after we get Elizabeth?"
Victor's lips curved into a cold smile. "Then we finish what should've been done decades ago. We erase her. And any trace of the past she's so desperate to expose."
Damien shifted his weight, the gravity of the plan pressing down on him. "You're sure this is the only way?"
Victor's smile vanished. "You're getting sentimental, Damien. That's dangerous. Do you want Nathan to win? To undo everything we've built? That girl is our ticket to keeping power. And Elizabeth is the last person who can blow this whole thing open."
He stood and walked around the desk, placing a firm hand on Damien's shoulder. "This is about legacy. About control. About survival. You either play your part or step aside."
Damien nodded slowly. "I'll handle it."
Victor gave him a sharp look. "See that you do. No screw-ups. If anything goes wrong, it's your neck on the line, not mine."
The weight of those words settled like lead in the room. Damien gave a final nod, turned, and left the study.
Victor returned to his chair, lifted the glass again, and whispered to no one in particular, "Checkmate, Elizabeth. Come out and play".
———
Nathan stood near the window of his office, sleeves rolled up, the top button of his shirt undone, his tie loosened and hanging off his neck like a noose he hadn't quite shaken off yet. The weight of the earlier meeting with Malik Nair still lingered in his veins. Every second of that conversation had been a test of power and patience. Malik wanted his ego stroked; Nathan had given just enough to keep him on the hook—without compromising his own spine.
The door opened, and in walked Samson—tall, composed, quiet as a shadow.
Nathan didn't turn immediately. He took a moment, his fingers gripping the edge of the window frame as the sky began to dim with early twilight.
"I need this room secure," Nathan said evenly.
"It already is," Samson replied without hesitation. "I swept it an hour ago. The only ears in here are ours."
Nathan finally turned, walking over to the bar cart in the corner. He poured a glass of bourbon and handed it to Samson without asking. Then he poured one for himself, but didn't drink.
"Malik Nair," Nathan started, resting his hip against the desk, "was exactly what we expected—petty, arrogant, suspicious. Victor got to him first, poisoned the well."
Samson took a sip. "How bad?"
Nathan chuckled dryly. "He called me the ghost prince of a broken empire. Said everyone knows I'm too young, too reckless, and too emotional to handle a project of that magnitude. Claimed Victor painted me as someone who inherited power but never earned it."
Samson scoffed. "And yet, here you stand."
"I gave him what he wanted," Nathan said. "Not just the numbers, not just the vision. I gave him me. My truth. Why I'm fighting for Vosstech. Why it matters. And I massaged his ego just enough to let him feel like he had control."
Samson studied him for a moment. "Did it work?"
Nathan finally took a sip of his drink, his jaw tightening. "He didn't say yes. But he didn't say no. Said he wants to meet again on Monday with his partners. Which means he's considering it… or at least considering how he can benefit from backing me instead of Victor."
Samson nodded slowly. "Then we'll make sure nothing gets out between now and Monday. I'll lock it down. No press leaks, no whispers. If anyone so much as breathes the word 'Malik,' they'll choke on it."
Nathan gave him a half-smile. "That's why you're here."
He moved to sit behind his desk, leaning forward, hands steepled. "Now… any update on the two we picked up?"
Samson's face darkened. "Still quiet. Haven't said a word outside of basic denials. But they're trained, Nathan. They're not just street thugs—they know how to take a beating, how to play the long game. They've been conditioned."
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Which means someone made sure they knew what to expect if they were caught."
"Exactly," Samson replied. "They're not loyal to the cause. They're afraid of what happens if they talk."
Nathan's eyes narrowed. "So Victor's got a leash on them."
"More like a blade to their throat," Samson said. "We're digging into their families, debts, any secrets Victor might be holding over them. The boys are working round the clock. If we can find the pressure point, we can break them."
Nathan leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "We need to know who they've talked to. Who else is involved. If Victor and Damien are orchestrating this… Stephanie is just a pawn."
Samson's tone dropped. "Or bait."
Nathan's eyes flashed. "Exactly. And if they're using her to get to Elizabeth, then we need to move before they do."
"We've increased security around Stephanie," Samson said. "But she can't know. If she suspects anything, it'll change her behavior—and she's already walking on a knife's edge."
Nathan ran a hand down his face. "She can't be spooked. Not yet. She's already juggling too much—with her mother, the promotion, the board watching her every move. If she starts looking over her shoulder, they'll start doubting her strength."
Samson gave a short nod. "Then we keep playing chess. Quiet moves. Clean execution."
Nathan stood again, walking slowly to the window. His reflection stared back at him, tense, coiled, exhausted—but more alive than he had felt in years.
"Victor thinks he can corner me," Nathan murmured. "That he can control the board. But he doesn't understand… I've already flipped the board. He's still playing checkers. I'm building a war."
Samson smirked. "Then let's sharpen the knives."
Nathan turned, eyes ice-cold now. "Make sure no one gets sloppy. And Samson…"
"Yes?"
"Get inside Malik's circle. Discreetly. I want to know what he's thinking before he says a word."
"I'm on it."
As Samson left the room, closing the door silently behind him, Nathan stood in the growing shadows of his office—thinking, calculating, waiting.
This war was far from over.
It had only just begun.
———
Anita lay on Leo's chest, her fingers lightly trailing across the faded scar just beneath his collarbone, the room around them still humming with the soft aftermath of their tangled, breathless intimacy. Golden sunlight spilled over the edge of the sheets, and the warm scent of citrusy body lotion and cotton filled the air.
He exhaled slowly, arms wrapped around her like she might disappear.
"You always do this," Leo murmured, brushing a strand of hair off her face.
Anita shifted, lifting her head slightly. "Do what?"
"Make me forget there's a world out there. Deadlines. Family drama. Psycho uncles. You."
She grinned lazily. "Well, if you're gonna blame someone for making you forget your problems, at least pick someone with great legs."
Leo gave a husky laugh. "I already did."
A comfortable silence settled between them. Outside, birds chirped. Inside, the only sound was the slow rhythm of their breathing.
Then Anita tilted her head, suddenly more serious. "Hey… So what are we now?"
Leo blinked. "Huh?"
She propped herself on one elbow. "I mean, are we… together? Or are we just having really excellent sex?"
Leo turned, cupping her face gently. "You think I look at you like this for just sex?"
Anita shrugged, but her eyes searched his face.
"Anita," he said, his voice low and earnest, "I belong to you already. I think you knew that before I did. But when all this madness settles—when we're not worrying about who's out to get my sister or what hidden secrets the family is hiding—I'm taking you out. Somewhere nice. Somewhere I can look at you across a table, hold your hand, and not feel like the world is crashing."
Anita smiled, eyes softening. "You've been practicing that line?"
Leo chuckled. "Swear I just made it up."
Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. Leo glanced at it and sat up quickly.
"Steph."
He answered, his tone shifting. "Hey, sis. Everything okay?"
Stephanie's voice was calm but clipped. "Yeah. Just checking if you and Anita are free. Can you meet me at work? I want us to go see Mum together. They moved her to the new facility last night, and I figured we'd head there together since you don't know the location."
"Yeah, of course. We'll be there soon."
He hung up and turned to Anita. "Time to see Mum."
They dressed quickly, stealing kisses between layers of clothing. By the time they walked into Stephanie's company lobby, Anita immediately noticed something was different.
The receptionist, usually icy and indifferent, stood when she saw them.
"Mr. Quinn. Ms. Silva. Welcome. Ms. Quinn is expecting you."
Anita blinked and turned to Leo. "Did she just call you Mr. Quinn?"
Leo raised an eyebrow. "I think she did."
They headed upstairs, and when they reached the second floor, Anita gasped. Stephanie was no longer seated at her usual cubicle. A sleek glass office bore her name—Stephanie Quinn, Manager.
"What in the—" Anita whispered.
Stephanie emerged from her new office, dressed in a tailored navy-blue dress, her hair swept back into a sharp ponytail, confidence written into her every step.
"Took you two long enough," she said, though her smile gave away her excitement.
But before Anita or Leo could speak, Stephanie turned to her brother with a softer expression.
"Leo…" she said carefully. "I just… I wanted to ask if you've forgiven me. For keeping the truth about Nathan from you."
Leo looked at her, his expression unreadable for a second—then he reached out and pulled her into a warm hug.
"Steph," he murmured, "I can't stay mad at you for too long. You did what you thought was right. And if I were in your shoes, I might've done the same."
Stephanie sighed in relief, hugging him tighter.
When they pulled back, Anita folded her arms, staring Steph down with playful suspicion. "Okay. But what the hell happened?"
Leo joined in. "Last I checked, you were still dodging emails and taking crap from your evil boss."
Stephanie rolled her eyes and gestured for them to follow her inside. Once the door closed, she let out a breath.
"So… Nora tried to fire me this morning."
"What?" Anita and Leo chorused.
"She called me a whore in front of the team," Stephanie said, tone tight. "Said I was sleeping my way to the top. She accused me of seducing clients. Then she fired me."
Anita's eyes flared. "That vile—!"
"But," Stephanie cut in, lips curving slightly, "before I could pack up my things, guess who walked in?"
Leo blinked. "Nathan?"
Stephanie nodded. "Apparently, he bought the company. Last month. Kept it quiet. So he came in this morning, told Nora she was the one getting fired, and then—he promoted me. Right there. In front of everyone."
Anita squealed. "Oh my God!"
Leo leaned back in his chair, grinning. "He bought your company… to protect you?"
"No," Stephanie said slowly. "He bought it for strategic reasons. But yes, he made sure I wouldn't be touched."
Anita gave her a look. "And you're still questioning whether this man loves you?"
"I'm not—"
Leo cut her off. "You're practically a CEO's wife already."
"Stop," Stephanie groaned, laughing despite herself.
Before they could tease her more, a knock interrupted them. Two men in dark suits stood outside.
"Ms. Quinn," one said, "the car is ready. Mr. Voss insisted on security detail."
Stephanie sighed. "Of course he did."
Anita leaned in with a smirk. "Honestly, I kind of ship this. Ruthless billionaire falls for his feisty employee and turns her world upside down?"
Leo nodded. "If this were a book, I'd read it."
Stephanie rolled her eyes. "You two are insufferable."
They exited the office together, Anita and Leo still grinning while Stephanie tried—and failed—to hide her blush. The security team escorted them to the sleek black SUV parked out front, and as they slid into the seats, the air inside the car filled with laughter.
Outside, the world was shifting. Danger simmered on the edges of their lives, plans being made in dark corners.
But for now… Stephanie had family by her side, a man who believed in her, and power she never asked for—but finally claimed.
And she was just getting started.