Elina didn't go home after dinner with Aidan.
She didn't want to sit on her couch, surrounded by memories of a career stolen. Didn't want to lie in bed replaying every word of his offer. Every flicker of something almost human in his eyes.
So she went for a drive.
The city was her only solace now. Neon lights smeared across her windshield, painting her in flashes of blue, red, gold. The hum of her tires against the asphalt soothed her — steady, certain.
She ended up at the pier.
It was quiet at this hour. Only the waves dared to speak. She walked until she reached the edge of the railing and stood there, letting the cold night wind slap her back to life.
She should've screamed.
Should've cried.
But instead, she laughed softly.
"I must be losing my mind," she muttered.
She should be plotting revenge.
She should hate him.
So why was part of her — some deep, foolish part — still thinking about the way he'd looked at her across that rooftop table? As if she wasn't just a threat. As if she was the only person in the world worth listening to.
No. She couldn't afford to feel.
Not now.
---
The next morning, Harper walked into her temporary office — a co-working space with glass walls and a stubborn coffee machine — holding two cups of espresso and a USB drive like it was a loaded weapon.
"I've got something," she said, eyes gleaming.
Elina raised a brow. "This better be illegal."
"It's morally gray," Harper replied. "Which is practically a love letter in our world."
Elina grinned, taking the drive. "Tell me."
"I traced one of the shell companies involved in the vote that ousted you. Turns out it's linked to an R&D tech startup called Nexlin. Guess who's been investing heavily through silent partners?"
"Don't tell me…"
"Blackstone Capital."
Elina's smile faded. Her fingers tightened around the espresso cup.
"So this wasn't just about my company," she said slowly. "He needed me out of the way for something bigger."
"Looks like it."
Elina leaned back, heart pounding—not from rage, but clarity. For months, she'd been confused. Blindsided. But now... now it made sense.
Aidan didn't betray her out of greed.
He was playing a longer game.
And maybe she still had time to crash it.
---
Two hours later, she stood at the front desk of Blackstone Capital.
The receptionist blinked at her. "Miss Lane… I'm sorry, Mr. Blackstone didn't say he had any appointments—"
"He didn't," Elina said smoothly. "But I'm not here for small talk."
She strode past before the woman could protest. Her heels struck the marble floor with authority, drawing the attention of every suit in the hallway.
By the time she reached the executive floor, the double glass doors had already opened.
Aidan stood there, a pen in hand, gaze unreadable.
"Elina," he said, as if he hadn't seen her just twelve hours ago.
"Cancel whatever meeting you have. We need to talk."
He waved a hand to his assistant. "Hold all my calls."
---
Inside his office — which had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city like a goddamn king's balcony — Elina didn't sit. She paced.
Aidan leaned against his desk, watching her.
"You looked lovely last night," he said casually.
"Shut up."
He smirked. "Alright, then. What's the emergency?"
"You lied," she said, spinning to face him.
"About?"
"Nexlin."
His smirk froze.
"I know Blackstone Capital's funding them. Through proxies. You needed me out of the way because I would've blocked the merger."
His eyes darkened, but he didn't deny it.
"Is that what this is about?" she asked. "You destroy my name, take my legacy, and now you want to wine and dine me back into partnership—all so you can cover your tracks?"
"It's not that simple."
"Oh, it never is with you."
"Elina," he said, stepping forward, voice suddenly serious. "Do you really think I did all this just to pull one tech deal?"
"You tell me."
"I did it," he said slowly, "because the people around you were bleeding your company dry. You didn't see it. You were too busy protecting them. Playing noble."
She narrowed her eyes. "So you think betraying me was mercy?"
"No," he said. "It was war. But I had a reason."
He pulled something from his drawer — a thin file. He handed it to her.
She hesitated, then opened it.
Nexlin.
Research.
But not the kind she expected.
Medical tech. Neural mapping. Memory restoration. Early work on degenerative brain disease. Her eyes scanned faster. Prototypes. Trials. Personal notes.
"My mother's in early stages of Alzheimer's," he said softly. "She doesn't recognize me some days. Nexlin has a patent no one else does. I needed to get them the funding."
Elina's breath caught.
This wasn't business.
This was personal.
She closed the file.
"I still don't trust you," she said.
"Good," he said. "Because I don't want your trust. I want your partnership."
"Why?"
He stepped closer. Not menacing. Not mocking.
Just real.
"Because you're the only one who challenges me. Who doesn't flinch. I need that."
"No," she whispered. "You want that."
Their eyes met. The air between them felt heavier, loaded with everything unsaid.
And then he said something she didn't expect.
"I won't ask you to forgive me."
"Good," she said, backing away. "Because enemies don't make promises."
---
Back at her car, Elina sat in silence.
Her hands trembled as she stared at the file again.
He'd used her. Lied to her. Broken her.
But he also saved a company that might save his mother.
That wasn't power.
That was desperation.
She didn't know whether to hate him more... or understand him better.
But one thing was certain:
This wasn't over.
It was just beginning.