Justin's POV
The sky was still a deep charcoal gray when I pulled into the driveway.
I hadn't planned to come home.
But I needed those files. And I needed to change out of this crumpled suit. I had meetings lined up back to back, and the war at the office was nowhere near over.
The betrayal cut deep.
Derek Mallory one we trusted, I trusted had manipulated the quarterly reports before they reached our partners. It was subtle, almost undetectable unless you knew exactly what to look for. But once the numbers started raising eyebrows, the damage was already done.
Trust. Gone.
My phone buzzed in my pocket again. My CFO. Again.
I let it ring.
The front door opened with a soft click, and I stepped into the dimly lit house. It was eerily quiet, like it always was in the early hours. Even the usual security detail didn't greet me. They'd been dismissed for the night.
The only sound was the faint buzz of a television still running.
I furrowed my brows and turned toward the guest lounge.
There she was.
Elena.
Curled up on the armchair, her knees tucked in, her head leaning against the edge. The TV flickered in front of her, some late-night program casting blue light across her sleeping face. Her phone rested in her lap. Her brows were furrowed even in sleep.
No blanket.
No pillow.
Just… waiting.
A tightness formed in my chest. One I didn't want to name.
I crossed the room quietly. Grabbed the folded throw blanket from the couch and a small pillow from the side.
I gently lifted her head, just enough to slide the pillow under.
She stirred slightly but didn't wake.
I paused.
Something about her face so peaceful yet weary,stopped me in my tracks. How long had she been waiting?
I covered her carefully with the blanket. Then turned off the TV. The silence settled like fog.
Why was I doing this?
Because it was the decent thing to do?
Because guilt was a quiet storm building in the back of my mind?
I didn't answer my own questions. I never did. Obviously turning to a rhetorical question cause I don't have any answer and don't need one.
I straightened and walked toward the stairs. My steps were soft, deliberate, as if I didn't want to wake her from whatever fragile world she'd escaped to.
When I reached our bedroom, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower. The water was hot, almost scalding. Just how I liked it. It beat down on my neck and shoulders, washing away the scent of stale coffee and corporate chaos.
I braced my palms against the tiles and let the steam fill the space.
I hadn't slept properly in days except the time I was close to Elena. But that was nothing new. I was used to operating on the edge of exhaustion. Sleep was a luxury I learned to live without.
The real problem wasn't the workload.
It was the missing link.
We still hadn't caught the rat" Derek Mallory" who doctored the numbers.
The bastard had been clever he used a ghost server and rerouted access through a temporary email account tied to a burner phone. All we knew was that the damage was internal.
Someone close.
Someone trusted.
And now an entire investment deal worth over eighty million was hanging by a thread.
After my shower, I threw on a fresh white shirt and navy-blue slacks. Adjusted the cufflinks Elena had helped pick at the boutique in Paris. That memory caught me off guard.
Her laughter which was soft but I noticed.
Her soft smile in the mirror.
How her eyes had sparkled when the stylist adjusted the hem of her dress.
I shut the thought down.
Focus.
I grabbed the file folder from my briefcase, double-checked the printed contracts, and slipped them into my satchel.
Downstairs again, I paused before the door.
She was still asleep.
Still curled under the blanket I had left.
For a second, I watched her. I didn't know why. There was no logic in it.
She stirred, just a little.
I turned and walked out before I did something irrational, like sit down beside her and wait for her to wake up. What's happening to me??
I had no business caring.
I was already slipping too much.
I got into the car and barked instructions to the driver.
"Back to HQ. No stops."
"Yes, sir."
The city passed by in a blur.
I checked my watch. 5:38 AM. The office would be waking up soon. The board was scheduled for 7:30. My legal team was already waiting.
We needed to neutralize the narrative. We needed to assure the remaining investors that the breach was isolated. And we needed to find the mole before they could do any more damage.
My phone buzzed again.
I didn't look.
Not yet.
Not until I knew I had regained control.
Because in a world like mine, control is everything.
And right now, I was barely holding it together.
When I arrived at the office, my assistant was already outside my suite, pacing with a tablet in hand. She perked up when she saw me.
"Sir, the board is on standby. The auditor from Tracer Group is on line three, and your legal team has already drafted a temporary disclosure. We're just waiting on your signoff."
I nodded once, handed her the updated file, and walked into my office. The room was dim, quiet the only light spilling in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
A storm was coming, and I had to stop it.
I sat at the head of the conference table twenty minutes later, facing down half a dozen tired, worried, powerful men.
I took a breath, placed my palms flat on the table, and began.
"Gentlemen, we've had a breach in integrity. But what we haven't lost is control."
My voice was calm. Even.
Calculated.
Inside, I was seething.
We reviewed the reports. We dissected the email trails. We scoured every employee's access logs.
The bastard who did this had used someone else's login. A low-level analyst who hadn't even been in the building that week.
The analyst was clean. Frantic, terrified but clean.
That meant someone with high access.
That narrowed it down to four names.
And one of them used to be my closest advisor.
I stared down at the list on my screen.
One of these names had betrayed me.
And I found out who it was.
No matter what it took.
Because I may not have had control over my past.
Or even the chaos in my personal life.
But in this world,in my world—I ruled.
And betrayal has a price.
The person who did this is Derek Mallory . The whole boardroom gasped. They never expected it to him. I never did too.