Miranda
I saw him again, eyes tracking her like she was the only damn thing worth noticing.
Damien Wolfe—the man I've known for years, shared boardrooms and late nights with—standing at the far end of the floor, gaze pinned to Eva Sinclair like she was a puzzle he couldn't solve.
Despite the rumors. Despite the so-called spy investigation. Despite Katherine's carefully crafted evidence.
It made my stomach turn.
I clenched my fists, my heels clicking sharp against the tiles as I slipped into the breakroom. And there she was.
Eva.
Hovering near the coffee machine, pouring herself tea like she owned the place. Like the walls weren't closing in on her.
I waited until the room emptied. Then I moved.
"Enjoying the show?" I asked, voice laced with sugar and steel.
Eva turned, her eyes wide for half a second before settling into that fake, innocent calm. "I'm just getting tea."
I stepped closer, my heels clicking softly, the distance between us shrinking like a noose tightening.
"Listen carefully, sweetheart," I whispered, leaning in, "because I don't repeat myself for girls who'll be fired in a week."
Her eyes flickered, but she stayed still.
"You think Damien's little looks mean anything?" I smiled, sharp enough to cut. "Men like him—powerful men—get curious. But curiosity fades. Legacies don't."
Eva's jaw tensed. "You're scared."
I laughed, low and quiet. "I'm realistic."
The door creaked behind us, but no one entered. Just the building's hum, our quiet war simmering.
"Stay in your place," I warned, stepping back, smoothing my blouse. "Or you'll fall harder than you climbed."
And with that, I turned, leaving her with the weight of my words—and the bitter truth lingering in the air.
I headed towards Katherine's office.
The moment I shut the door behind us, I didn't waste time.
"Is Nico done?" I asked, arms crossed, frustration simmering beneath my words. "The new files—the ones that actually stick."
Katherine glanced at her phone, sharp as ever beneath her cool exterior. She tapped the screen, calling Nico.
He answered on the second ring.
"Well?" Katherine asked, walking to her window. Her reflection in the glass looked as cold as her voice.
"Almost done," Nico replied. His voice crackled slightly over the speaker. "Planting it across internal folders and backup servers. Takes time if you want it airtight."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "Took you long enough last time. Look where that got us."
"Someone's protecting her," Nico shot back. "I told you."
Katherine cut in, smooth and firm. "Finish it. No mistakes."
"Consider it done," Nico replied, then the line went dead.
I exhaled, pacing toward Katherine's desk, fingers drumming lightly on the polished surface. "This shouldn't be this hard," I muttered. "She's an intern. You're CFO. I practically run the media wing of this empire—yet here we are, scrambling like amateurs."
Katherine arched a brow. "Running PR and actually running the company aren't the same, Miranda."
I smirked, unfazed. "True. But headlines shape board votes. Investors panic over rumors. My division controls the narrative—you control the numbers."
Her lips twitched at that. "And yet, we both need her gone."
"Exactly," I said, leaning in. "The sooner that evidence goes live, the sooner Damien stops chasing shadows—and starts seeing Eva for what she is."
Katherine's eyes narrowed slightly, calculation written across her face. "Let's hope Nico gets it right."
"Or we'll do it ourselves," I added with a tight smile.
And just like that, the room settled back into icy, practiced calm—both of us knowing neither could afford to lose control.
The conversation with Katherine still echoed in my head as I straightened my blazer.
Her words, cool and careful. Mine, sharp as glass.
I pulled open the heavy office door, the faint scent of her expensive perfume lingering in the air.
Outside, the hum of Wolfe Enterprises wrapped around me—the polished floors, the quiet tension, the weight of secrets tucked into every corner.
I walked down the hallway, heels tapping in perfect rhythm, my mind spinning faster than my steps.
Eva Sinclair.
She wasn't just a problem anymore.
She was a crack in our foundation—and cracks had a way of splitting everything apart if left unchecked.
Damien's distracted stares. His questions. His hesitation.
I clenched my jaw, shoulders tight as I moved toward the elevators.
"This ends soon," I muttered under my breath, ignoring the curious glance from an intern passing by.
Let Katherine handle her spreadsheets and board meetings.
Let Nico bury Eva with new evidence.
I had my own part to play—and if Damien wasn't careful, he'd lose far more than his legacy.