A New Player.
The flashbacks hit me like a storm of knives.
“Fuck!” I cursed out loud and at once,the wine glass slipped from my fingers and exploded on the floor, red liquid splattering across ivory marble like fresh blood.
The sound snapped through the office like a gunshot.
My chest was heaving as my hand trembled by my side, fingers curled, nails digging into my palm. I didn’t even flinch at the sound of the door flying open behind me.
“Ma’am!” Talia, my secretary, stood wide-eyed in the doorway, fear bleeding into her voice. “Are
I didn’t look at her nor did I speak.
I just nodded stiffly once, jaw locked, eyes fixed on the crimson mess at my feet.
you alright?”
She hovered for a beat, then backed out quickly, her voice echoing down the hall. “Get someone to clean up the CEO’ s office, now.”
I needed out.
The walls felt like they were closing in.
The past still clung to me like rot under my skin.
I shoved the balcony doors open and stepped outside, the cool wind slapped against my face, but it wasn’t enough, nothing could chill the fire boiling in my chest.
I started pacing around, sharp, erratic strides across the sleek stone balcony, my heels clicking like gunshots.
My breathing came fast, like I couldn’t get enough air.
Three-fucking years!
Three whole fucking years!
I let that bastard manipulate me, lie to me, use me like I was some discarded charity case.
I stopped with fists clenched.
“Fuck you, Ronan!” I screamed.
My voice cracked the air like thunder.
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I let out a harsh, breathless laugh, pain wrapped in disbelief.
“You smug, self-centered, cold-hearted son of a bitch!”
My nails dug into my palms until I felt skin break.
How the hell did I become that woman?
That wife?
The one who nodded, smiled, and bit her tongue while her husband’s mistress walked barefoot through their home like she owned it?
I cook for her everytime Ronan tells me that she is coming over the following morning.
I remembered waking up carly, tying my hair back neatly, chopping vegetables with shaking hands, asking myself what dish would make her feel welcome.
Welcome to my home.
I laughed again, shaky, sharp..
“Fucking pathetic, Zyrah. What the fuck were you thinking?”
I turned, pacing again.
I remembered her fake smile.
Her perfume lingered even after she left.
Her goddamn smirk every time she caught me looking, like she knew I was broken and still proud of it, and I let it happen.
Over and over.
All in the desperate hope that Ronan, the man who once kissed me like I was air, would come back to me.
“I should’ve set that house on fire,” I snarled. “I should’ve walked out the first fucking night and never looked back.”
But I stayed.
I let him turn me into a version of myself I now fucking hated, and in the end?
That’s what made it easy for them to frame me because I was soft and desperate to keep him.
Because I loved him enough to ignore the fact that he was choking the life out of me, one betrayal at a time.
My heart thudded violently in my chest as the wind whipped through my hair.
I turned and slammed my hand against the balcony rail.
The city below stretched like a sleeping beast, unaware of the war brewing in its core.
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My pulse was finally beginning to slow, though my fingers still tingle from how tightly they had been clenched. The sharp taste of fury still lingered on my tongue like metal. I stood on the balcony, catching my breath, each inhale shal- low, deliberate.
Behind me, the balcony doors creaked open.
“Ma’am?” Talia’s soft voice broke the quiet.
I didn’t turn. “Yes?”
“You have a call on line one.”
I exhaled slowly, wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. “Has the mess been cleaned up?”
“Yes, ma’am, the glass is gone, and the floor has been wiped down.”
I turned and offered her a small, controlled smile. “Thank you.”
She nodded, sensing the storm had passed, for now, and slipped back inside.
I followed moments later, stepping back into my office.
The room looked pristine and immaculate as if the explosion of emotion had never happened, but I remembered, and I wasn’t the same.
I walked to my desk, straightened my shoulders, and picked up the phone.
“This is Zyrah Aeternum.”
The voice that answered was deep, smooth and deliberate, with the kind of confidence that didn’t need introduction. “Ms. Aeternum, I trust you received the message I sent to your encrypted line.”
I stood still with a narrowed gaze.
I hadn’t recognized the number, but I had definitely seen that anonymous tip. It was brief, precise, and laced with in-
tent.
“You’re not the only one aiming for Lancaster’s fall.”
My eyes narrowed. “Was that you?”
The man laughed, a slow, dangerous sound. “Clever, I knew you’d connect the dots. That’s very Impressive.”
“I don’t have time for cryptic games,” I said coolly. “State your purpose.”
“I like that,” he replied. “Straight to business, that’s refreshing.”
His tone shifted slightly, more formal now. “My name is Leo Vincenzo. You may not know me, but I’m a very rele- vant individual in this city, and I’ve had a long-standing interest in one Ronan Lancaster.”
I kept my expression neutral, though my pulse ticked up. “A rival?”
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A New Player.
“Something like that,” he said. “Let’s just say I’ve been watching your elegant takedown with keen fascination.”
I said nothing.
I didn’t trust the warmth in his voice, It was too smooth, way too precise.
“I’m not in the habit of making alliances with ghosts,” I said carefully. “I don’t know who you are.”
“You don’t need to,” he said. “Not yet, all you need to know is that I don’t like Ronan, we have a very terrible history together, one that ruins his reputation for good, and I think you and I may have overlapping interests.”
My fingers drummed lightly against the desk.
I didn’t trust him, but I was listening.
“Speak,” I said. “You’ve got my attention, what exactly do you want?”
Vincenzo chuckled again, quieter this time. “As much as I’d love to break it all down now, this line isn’t as secure as I’d like, and frankly, it would be rude to offer such an intriguing proposal over the phone. I’d prefer we meet in per- son with no intermediaries.”
I stared out the window.
My instincts screamed caution because men like Leo Vincenzo didn’t offer help without a price, and I was done trad- ing pieces of myself for survival, but I wouldn’t shut the door.
“I’ll consider it,” I said. “If I’m interested, I’ll send a word.”
“Fair,” he said smoothly.
I didn’t wait for a goodbye, at once, I ended the call and set the phone down gently, my mind already racing.
Leo Vincenzo?
A ruthless entrepreneur?
Private and Untouchable.
I have heard of the name whispered behind closed doors but never expected it to intersect with mine.
I opened my encrypted comms and typed one line to Darius.
“We need to talk, a new player just entered the board.”
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