The rain had started again, tracing silver rivers down the glass walls of Selene's office. Outside, the city shimmered like a broken promise—bright on the surface, dark underneath. She stood with her back to the door, fingers gripping the cool steel of the railing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, every muscle in her shoulders coiled tight.
The report lay open on her desk.
Julian's handwriting was there—precise, surgical—spelling out what she had been refusing to believe for weeks.
The leak wasn't from a faceless board member.
It was Camille.
Or someone using Camille's access.
Selene's pulse throbbed in her ears. She had fought too hard, bled too much for this company to see it hollowed from the inside. And Camille—bright, reckless Camille—wasn't just a colleague. She was the one person Selene had let close enough to know where the cracks were.
The door opened behind her.
"I told your assistant not to announce me." Julian's voice carried that clipped edge he used when he was already past angry. "You weren't answering my calls."
Selene didn't turn around. "I read your report."
"Then you know I'm right."
The silence between them was taut as a drawn bow. Julian stepped closer, his reflection materializing beside hers in the glass. "We have one chance to contain this before Marcus uses it to destroy both of us."
Both of us.
Selene finally turned. His tie was slightly loose, his jaw set like he'd been clenching it since morning. There was something in his eyes—frustration, yes, but also a flicker of something she refused to name. "If Camille did this," Selene said quietly, "I need proof. Not assumptions."
Julian's expression hardened. "And if she did? What then? You'll cut her loose?"
"She's—" Selene stopped herself. She was not going to explain Camille to him. Not when her own loyalty was in question. "This is my decision."
"No," Julian said, voice low, "it's our war. And you don't win wars by protecting traitors."
---
Downstairs – The Lobby
Camille stood in the shadow of the marble columns, phone pressed to her ear.
"I told you," she hissed, "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this because—" She froze, spotting Marcus stepping out of the elevator.
He moved like he owned the building. Like he owned her.
"Hang up," he murmured as he stopped in front of her. His cologne wrapped around her before his shadow did. "You don't want the wrong ears catching that conversation."
Camille slid the phone into her bag. "You're pushing me too far."
"I haven't even started." Marcus's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Selene thinks she can play CEO and queen. I'll show her she's only ever been a pawn."
"And I'm what?" Camille shot back. "Your pawn?"
"You," Marcus said, leaning close, "are the key that opens her throat. And you know it."
Her pulse spiked. She hated that part of him—the way he could make her feel like she was already trapped, even when she told herself she wasn't.
---
Back in the Office
Julian slammed the folder shut. "Marcus is moving faster than we thought. He's already circling Camille."
Selene's breath hitched. "You spoke to him?"
"No," Julian said grimly. "But I had someone follow him. He met her this morning."
The fracture line widened—between loyalty and truth, between the woman Selene wanted to be and the one she had to be to survive.
Her voice was ice. "Get me everything you have on that meeting."
Julian nodded, but his gaze lingered on her as if he could see the war behind her eyes. "Selene… when this is over, there's no going back."
She already knew.