The next morning dawned gray and heavy, as if the sky itself sensed the tension in the air. Amira stood by the tall glass windows of the penthouse, arms folded across her chest, watching the city stir to life. Her eyes weren't on the skyline, though. They were still fixated on the memory of that photograph—the image that had shattered whatever sense of safety she thought she had begun to build with Idris.
Behind her, Idris was on the phone, voice low and clipped, issuing orders to his private security team. He hadn't slept much. Neither had she.
"I want a full trace on the envelope's origin," Idris said. "Check traffic cams. Whoever delivered it couldn't have vanished into thin air."
He ended the call and turned to her. "The security team's already reviewing the footage from the building. No unauthorized visitors, but I'm not buying that. Someone got in. Someone wanted us to see that."
Amira nodded slowly, her jaw clenched. "This isn't just about scaring me, is it?"
"No." Idris walked over to her, his hand hovering near her shoulder before letting it fall. "It's about me. Whoever did this wants to rattle me. And they knew exactly how to do it—by coming after you."
She met his eyes then. "Then let them come. I'm not going anywhere."
His gaze softened. "You shouldn't have to be brave for this."
"I'm not being brave for you, Idris. I'm being brave for me."
He didn't respond right away, just studied her face like he was trying to memorize every detail. "I'll protect you. No matter what it takes."
She gave a small, sad smile. "You're already doing that. Just don't shut me out while you're at it."
Before he could answer, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen and his expression darkened. "It's my lawyer. I need to take this."
Amira nodded, giving him space. She walked toward the kitchen, trying to shake off the heaviness in her chest. As the kettle hissed, she noticed a small card pinned to the fridge—something Idris had scribbled a while ago. A grocery list. But her name was at the top, in bold, block letters. It made her heart ache. Even in mundane things, he'd started to include her.
When Idris returned twenty minutes later, the tightness in his shoulders had only grown worse.
"That call," he said, pouring himself a black coffee, "wasn't about security. It was about an old case I buried years ago."
Amira's brow furrowed. "What case?"
He leaned against the counter, his eyes hollow. "A merger gone wrong. I took over a flailing company—absorbed it legally, but the former CEO didn't take it well. Accused me of destroying his legacy. Said I manipulated the board."
"And did you?"
"No. But I didn't care if it looked like I did. At the time, I just wanted to win." He took a sip, his fingers tightening around the mug. "He lost everything. His wife left. His daughter had to drop out of school. He… disappeared after that. But now… I wonder if this is him."
Amira's heart panged. "You think he's back? Seeking revenge?"
"I don't believe in coincidences," Idris said. "And I certainly don't believe it's random someone sent a photo of you and labeled you a 'pawn.'"
Amira stepped closer. "Then what do we do?"
He looked at her, something fragile behind his stoic expression. "We don't panic. We prepare. I've assigned two guards to watch over you, discreetly. One will follow you, one will remain near the building."
"I don't want to live like I'm being hunted."
"I know," he said gently. "But for now, I need you safe. Until I figure out who's behind this."
Amira nodded, torn between fear and frustration. "And what about you?"
"I'll be fine."
"That's not what I asked."
His lips twitched at her defiance. "I'll be careful. I promise."
The rest of the day passed in a haze. Amira tried to focus on her freelance work, but every sound made her jump. At lunch, her phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.
"Still think he's worth it?"
She stared at it for a long moment before showing Idris. He didn't say a word—just forwarded it to his tech team and doubled her security.
By evening, they were both drained. The once bright, open space of the penthouse now felt like a gilded cage.
"Come with me," Idris said suddenly, holding out his hand.
She blinked. "Where?"
"Somewhere we can breathe."
She didn't ask questions. Just took his hand.
He drove them to a quiet part of the city, where old warehouses had been turned into artist studios and cafes. He parked near an unmarked building and led her up a narrow staircase. At the top was a rooftop garden—lush, wild, and alive. The city hummed around them, but up here, it felt like another world.
"I come here when everything feels too loud," he said.
Amira stepped forward, inhaling the scent of mint and lavender. "It's beautiful."
"I wanted you to see it. To know that even in chaos, there can still be peace."
She turned to him. "You hide so much of yourself."
"I've had to. But with you… I'm trying."
She reached for his hand. "Then keep trying. Because I'm here. I'm not running."
He pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. "You make it hard to stay cold, Amira."
She smiled against his chest. "Good."
They stayed like that for a while, letting the night wrap around them like a blanket. For the first time that day, her breathing slowed. And his hold on her didn't feel like protection—it felt like partnership.
Later, as they returned to the penthouse, Idris received another message. This time, it wasn't a threat.
It was a name.
"Daniel Crest. Ask him what you took."
Idris stared at the screen, every muscle in his body going still.
"Who's Daniel Crest?" Amira asked quietly.
His voice was low. "The CEO I ruined."
The shadows beneath the surface had finally taken shape. And now, the past was demanding to be reckoned with.
Idris stared at the screen, unmoving, as if the name had yanked him back to another time—another version of himself. His fingers tightened around the phone, knuckles white, jaw clenching with a quiet, simmering fury.
"Daniel Crest," he repeated under his breath. "Of course it's him."
Amira frowned, watching his face closely. "You said you took over his company. But what exactly happened, Idris? Why would he wait all these years to retaliate?"
He slipped the phone into his pocket, pacing toward the window. The skyline stretched beyond them, glittering like a thousand watching eyes. "Daniel inherited CrestTech after his father passed. But he wasn't ready for it. The company was bleeding money, hemorrhaging talent, and drowning in lawsuits. I offered him a lifeline—a merger that would protect his legacy and keep the doors open."
"And he refused?" Amira asked gently.
"He hesitated. But the board didn't. They were desperate to save the company. They went behind his back and sold me majority shares. Overnight, I became CEO. Daniel was stripped of everything—his title, his influence, his pride."
Amira walked slowly to where he stood. "And you didn't feel bad?"
"I did. But not enough to stop it. At the time, I told myself I was doing what was necessary. Business is war, Amira. I've always known that. But he… he lost more than just his job. He lost his entire identity."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "So this isn't about business anymore. This is personal."
He nodded once. "Deeply."
"Then what's his endgame? Does he want to destroy your company? Expose you? Hurt you physically?"
Idris turned to face her, eyes cold and focused. "He doesn't want to destroy me, Amira. He wants me to suffer. And that's why he's targeting you."
She swallowed hard, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach. "Then he knows we're together."
"He's watching. He's waiting. And now that he's made himself known, the real game begins."
The words hung heavily between them. Idris's phone buzzed again. This time, it was Frank, his security head.
"Speak," Idris said.
Frank's voice was tense. "We got something. One of the penthouse external cameras picked up a man slipping into the service entrance the night before the envelope arrived. Face was obscured, but his build, movements—they match Daniel Crest's known profile."
Idris's voice dropped an octave. "Send me everything. And get me a current address. I want eyes on him, twenty-four seven."
"Understood."
He hung up, turning back to Amira. "It's him. He's here. He's not hiding anymore."
Amira felt her pulse spike. "Idris, this isn't just about revenge anymore. This could get dangerous. What if he's not working alone?"
"Then we flush him out," Idris said grimly. "And if he lays one more finger on what's mine, I won't just fight back—I'll end it."
She stepped closer, gently placing her hand on his chest. "You won't do it alone. You're not that man anymore. Not the cold-hearted CEO who walks through fire without looking back."
He leaned into her touch, eyes briefly closing. "Then help me stay that man."
"I'm already trying."
The next few days passed in a blur of meetings, covert surveillance, and sleepless nights. Amira remained at the penthouse under tight security, while Idris rotated between his office and strategic locations to avoid becoming a sitting target.
But the pressure was mounting.
Late Thursday evening, as Amira sat working on her laptop with a blanket wrapped around her legs, her phone buzzed with an unknown call.
She hesitated, then answered. "Hello?"
"Amira." The voice was low, deliberate. Male. And unfamiliar. "He took everything from me. Just like he'll take everything from you."
Her blood ran cold. "Who is this?"
"You'll know soon enough. I just wanted you to hear my voice—before the real storm begins."
The line cut. Her hands trembled as she stared at the screen.
Idris burst through the door less than five minutes later. "I got the trace alert. You okay?"
"He called me," Amira whispered. "Your Daniel Crest. He said… he said you'll take everything from me."
Idris's face hardened with fury. "He's escalating."
"And he doesn't sound unhinged. He sounds… calm. Like someone who's been planning this for years."
"He has."
Idris turned to Frank, who had followed behind him. "I want round-the-clock monitoring. No more passive surveillance. I want drones, motion sensors, everything. This ends now."
Frank nodded and disappeared.
Amira stood shakily. "Why me, Idris? Why is it always the people around you who get hurt?"
His face fell. "Because I've lived like a fortress, Amira. No one ever got in far enough to be a weakness. Until you."
"And now?"
"Now I'd burn the world before I let anyone touch you."
She walked over, burying herself in his arms. "Then let's fight back together. No more secrets. No more fear."
He kissed the top of her head. "Together."
As the night stretched on, neither of them slept. But for the first time since the threats began, they didn't feel alone in the fight.
They had each other.
And Daniel Crest, no matter how cunning, would soon learn what happened when you backed Idris Aladeen into a corner.
You didn't just awaken the CEO.
You awakened the man who had everything to lose.