Chapter 5: A Deal with Thorns
The city sky cracked open with thunder as rain splattered across the glass windows of the café where Elira sat, her coat damp and her heart heavier than she liked to admit.
She stirred her tea slowly, eyes locked on the rain outside—until a shadow slid into the seat across from her.
Vincent Crane.
Board member. Investor. The man who looked at people like numbers on a spreadsheet.
"I wasn't expecting you," she said coldly.
Vincent smiled like a crocodile. "But you came."
"I was curious. People like you rarely crawl out in the daylight."
He folded his hands. "I prefer directness, Ms. Song. So let's get to it."
He slid a folder across the table. Inside: bank statements. Contracts. A single slip of paper with a number scribbled in neat handwriting.
Ten million dollars.
"Ten million?" she repeated, almost laughing. "For what? My silence?"
"No," he said smoothly. "For your voice. We want you to play the part of the flower girl who got lost. Smile, give a few speeches, say Valen is a visionary again… and then disappear back to your shop."
Elira's eyes narrowed. "So you want to erase me."
"I want to save you. The board won't tolerate someone with your… chaos. You're a pretty headline, not a player. Take the money. Get out before it gets ugly."
She leaned in, voice sharp. "You think I care about money?"
Vincent's smile faded. "You care about power. That makes you dangerous. You're not like the rest of them, Elira. That's why I came to you first."
She pushed the folder back.
"I don't want to be bought," she said softly. "I want to be heard."
Vincent stood. "Then be careful. Because in this city, women who roar tend to disappear."
---
Later That Night – Valen Corp HQ
Ares leaned over the long table in his private strategy room, muscles tight, his eyes glued to the reports.
Someone had leaked information about Project V—just enough to cause unrest in the media.
Not enough to destroy them.
But enough to shake him.
Across from him sat Selene D'Amour, a fresh bruise forming on her temple after what she called "an accident" in the parking garage. Her hands trembled as she sipped whiskey.
"They're circling," she said hoarsely. "Crane's making moves. You can feel it."
"I know."
"He offered Elira money," she added, voice low.
Ares' head snapped up.
"What?"
Selene nodded. "She told me before I left her shop. Crane wants her gone. You know why?"
He didn't answer.
Selene leaned closer. "Because she's not just a risk. She's your weakness."
---
Across the City – The Greenhouse
Elira paced the greenhouse aisle, the scent of wet earth rising from the pots. The storm outside pounded against the glass. The plants seemed to listen as she ranted to Cassia and Noah.
"He wants to buy me like I'm some silent accessory. I swear, if he thinks I'm going to roll over—"
"Then burn him," Cassia said. "Expose everything. Let the world see what they're hiding."
Noah hesitated. "You know if you do this, Ares goes down with them."
Elira's throat tightened.
She'd seen parts of Ares most people never saw—his restraint, his regret, his rare vulnerability. But she also saw his silence. His failure to speak when it mattered.
"He made his choices," she said finally.
But even as she said it, doubt rooted inside her chest like a thorned vine.
---
Flashback – Years Ago
She remembered the day she lost her mother.
It rained that day too. Not like today—no thunder, no lightning—just a steady, quiet drizzle that made everything feel cold.
She'd stood by her mother's casket with a single lily in her hand, and Ares—young, arrogant, suit too expensive for a funeral—had shown up unexpectedly.
They hadn't spoken in years. Not since the accident that forced her family into poverty.
But he came.
And when no one else did, he stood beside her. Silent. Present.
Not as a CEO.
Just as Ares.
The boy who used to sneak her sunflower seeds when the teachers weren't looking. The boy who held her hand behind the fence when her father was arrested.
That version of him… where had he gone?
---
Present – Valen's Penthouse
Elira rang the bell with force.
The door opened, and there he was—shirtless, hair wet from the shower, and still holding a half-buttoned dress shirt in his hand.
"Elira."
She stormed in past him.
"I know about Crane. And the buyout. And Selene's injury. You're under attack, and you still won't come clean."
Ares sighed. "This isn't your war."
"Isn't it? You dragged me into it the second you showed up at my shop."
He stared at her.
"I didn't drag you. I tried to protect you."
"You tried to control me."
Silence buzzed between them like static.
She turned to leave.
But his voice—low and ragged—stopped her.
"I lied about Project V," he admitted.
She froze.
"I wanted to do good. At first. I had plans to fix the neighborhoods we destroyed. But the board twisted everything. They wanted land. Profits. Influence. And I… let them."
Elira turned slowly. "Why?"
"Because I was tired of losing."
His voice cracked.
"I lost my mother. My sister. Liana betrayed me. And when I finally built something worth protecting… I realized the cost was me."
He stepped toward her.
"I don't want to be that man anymore."
"Then prove it."
He looked at her—eyes stormy, vulnerable, furious.
"I want to burn it all down, Elira. But I need to know you're not just holding a match to me, too."
She stepped closer.
"I'm not here to save you," she said. "But I'm not here to destroy you either."
Their breath mingled.
The room buzzed with heat.
Then—
Glass shattered.
Gunshot.
Ares tackled her to the floor as a bullet slammed into the wall behind her.
She gasped, pinned beneath him, heart hammering.
He pulled a gun from his desk drawer and cursed under his breath.
"They found us."
"Who?" she whispered.
"Someone who wants both of us gone."