The clink of ice in his tumbler was the solitary sound in Kinneth 's study as he stared out into the predawn darkness. Sleep had become an overpriced luxury, tormented by Gabriella's worried words and the dreadful vision of the "man from the newspaper." His mind, which was typically a fortress of reason and calculated risk, became a broken world of terror and unhappy memories.
He took a long gulp of the golden liquid, the burn a pleasant distraction from the chilly anguish in his chest. It had been five years since the world had fallen, five years since the name Kinneth Cook, once associated with inventiveness and flawless ethics, had been dragged through the dirt like a discarded rag.
The betrayal was fast, harsh, and organized by the person he had brought closest to him, not his wife, Clara, who had died tragically when Gabriella was a youngster, but his fiancée, Seraphina Thorne.
Seraphina, with her flowing blonde hair and a grin that promised an unending summer, had been the antidote to his sadness, the unexpected brightness that followed Clara's abrupt death. He had allowed himself to fall, to trust in the prospect of love again, and to unlock the rigorously guarded vault of his heart.
He recalled their courting days, which were packed with charity galas, private dinners, and whispered promises. She had seemed honest, tolerant of his reclusive temperament, and patient with Gabriella's early troubles with her mother's passing.
He'd introduced her to his inner circle, his business associates, and even Kendrick Hayes, his closest friend and legal counsel. Kinneth had been entirely blind to the snake he was rearing in his bosom.
The discussion had erupted with the fury of a supernova. It wasn't simply a simple affair or quarrel. It was a meticulously organized corporate espionage operation, an intentional theft of intellectual property, that nearly brought the Cook Industries empire to its knees.
Seraphina, cooperating with a competitive business, had painstakingly skimmed stolen key information, trade secrets, and algorithms and sold them for billions of dollars. Kinneth , her fiancé and the man who had placed his full faith in her was wrongly accused of being a conspirator.
He could still remember the headline that had splattered over every newspaper and TV channel: "COOK INDUSTRIES BILLIONAIRE IMPLICATED IN MASSIVE TECH THEFT - FIANCÉE BLOWS THE WHISTLE."
The sheer audacity, the cold blooded manipulation, caused bile to rise in his throat. She hadn't simply abused his trust; she'd weaponized it, using his name, access, and affection to smash him. She'd changed herself into the innocent whistleblower, presenting him as the mastermind behind the scheme, a guy so strong that he'd sought to cover it up by blaming his naïve fiancée.
The audience had devoured it a horrific story of greed and treachery made all the more captivating by his scrupulously maintained reputation for honesty.
He'd spent months fighting it, paying millions in legal fights, but the proof, painstakingly prepared by Seraphina and her unscrupulous associates, had proved overwhelming.
Emails, fake papers, and even doctored recordings formed a damning image. He was subsequently absolved of the most serious allegations, corporate embezzlement, but the taint lingered. He was regarded to be negligent, uninformed, and incapable of protecting his firm, let alone his image. His trust had been destroyed, his reputation irreparably tarnished.
Then, there was the extra factor of shame. Seraphina had arranged a leak of extremely sensitive facts about their relationship, depicting him as a cold, controlling, emotionally manipulating guy. The press had seized on it, painting him as a monster in the public eye even as he fought to defend his reputation.
It wasn't enough to take his corporate secrets; she had to tear open his heart for the world to see, revealing his faults, fumbling efforts at closeness, and private moments of grief over Clara.
His reclusive behavior was more than simply a choice; it was a scar. Every public engagement appeared like an open wound, and every gaze was a judgment. He had withdrawn behind the towering walls of his estate, conducting business remotely and managing his great money from the shadows. He had created this new life, brick by brick, on a foundation of utter mistrust. Trust was a weakness, love was a fantasy, and proximity was a formula for catastrophe. He had sworn off it all for good.
A quiet tap on the study door pulled him back from the edge of recall. It was Kendrick Hayes, his long time friend, lawyer, and the one person he could still entirely trust. Kendrick was a man of modest competence, his salt and pepper hair and persistently sleepy eyes concealing a sharp legal intellect and unflinching commitment.
"You're up early," Kendrick commented, entering the room. He held a tablet, the screen flickering slightly. "Or still up?"
Kinneth sighed and took another gulp of his beer. "I didn't sleep. Gabriella had a nightmare.
Kendrick's face wrinkled with anxiety. "Another one?" "She claimed she saw him, Kendrick. The guy. "In the garden." Kinneth 's voice was low, nearly a whisper, but the words were forceful.
Kendrick's expression darkened. "That is impossible, Kinneth . Security is tight. "I monitor the perimeter checks.
"I know," Kinneth murmured, stroking his weary face. "However, she was terrified. And she mentioned him. The person referenced in the article. Who collaborated with Seraphina?
Kendrick's jaw stiffened. "I'm Ryder Davies. Seraphina's colleague. He was never formally implicated in the spying, but we knew. We had our suspicions that he was her handler, the true brains behind the operation."
"Exactly," Kinneth muttered, staring at Kendrick with alarm. "What if this wasn't a nightmare? What if they are still out there? "What if they are still watching?"
Kendrick moved to the window and gazed out into the darkness. "It's pretty implausible, Kinneth . Ryder Davies vanished following the trial. The firm that acquired our stolen IP went bankrupt. "Seraphina is practically a pariah."
"A pariah with a significant chunk of my money, I'd wager," Kinneth remarked fiercely. "She escaped with a fortune and a twisted narrative that painted her as a victim."
Kendrick gazed back, his eyes unwavering. "And you were the villain, my friend. A tale that still haunts you. That's why the new nanny. Are you convinced about this, Kinneth ?"
Kinneth massaged his temples. "What alternatives do I have? Gabriella is plummeting. I can't contact her. She needs someone. "Someone who is not me." He hesitated, then said, "I planned the interview for this morning. "Morran Oscar."
Kendrick nodded and unlocked his iPad. "Ah, yes." The one with an unusual personal statement. Her recommendations are incredibly outstanding. However, there was a brief, nearly imperceptible break in her job history a few years ago. "The agency justified it as a leave for family reasons."
Kinneth waved a disdainful hand. "Everybody has a past, Kendrick. I am not seeking for perfection. I'm seeking for someone who can assist my daughter."
"I understand that," Kendrick remarked, his voice wary. "But you, of all others, realize how easy appearances deceive. Especially when it comes to the girls who enter your life, Kinneth . You established these boundaries for a purpose. Do not allow your desire for Gabriella make you vulnerable again."
The remarks touched a raw nerve. Kinneth 's jaws tightened. "Are you implying this woman, Morran Oscar, is another Seraphina?"
Kendrick stretched out his palms in a placating motion. "Oh, of course not. Please take care.
You remember what it was like. The continual monitoring, the media circus, the way they distorted everything you said and did. You became a cautionary tale and a joke. "Your reputation and career were nearly entirely ruined."
Kinneth 's memories poured back, the paparazzi outside his gates, the disparaging headlines, and the sneering faces on television. He had withdrawn inside this stronghold not simply for seclusion but also for survival. He had cut everything but the most crucial ties, establishing an impenetrable barrier around himself and Gabriella.
He hadn't gone to a public gathering in years. He did all business using encrypted video conferencing or with Kendrick. He was a ghost, an echo of the person he once was.
"I remember," Kinneth murmured, his voice frigid. "And I will not let this happen again. I am not naïve enough to believe in fairy tales. This is a commercial agreement. "Nothing more." He wanted to persuade himself as much as Kendrick.
He'd created an iron cage around his heart, a wall so solid that no one could ever get past it again. Love was a weapon, and he would never again give it to someone to wield against him.
Kendrick still appeared suspicious, but he only moaned. "Very excellent. Of course, I shall attend the interview as a formality. Just be cautious, Kinneth . "For Gabriella's sake and yours."
As Kendrick turned to depart, Kinneth saw his picture in the fading glass, a troubled man imprisoned by his past, longing for a future he couldn't quite fathom.
The tiny light of morning was breaking, but it did little to lighten the shadows within the home or the deep, incomprehensible suspicion that had been his constant companion. He eyed the unopened file on his desk, Morran Oscar's face glaring up at him.
She seemed nice and friendly. But Seraphina Thorne also seemed good.
And as the first rays of morning reached the glass, Kinneth felt a sickening conviction, whether it was a ghost from his past or a new, unknown menace, the world outside was still watching, waiting for its next time to strike.
The walls he had meticulously established around his heart and his house were suddenly, terrifyingly thin. And the interview, set for just a few hours away,was about to begin.