Some memories are old wounds that never truly heal. For Elara, the
necklace incident had been a shard of glass in her heart for years, and
Robert's latest betrayal made it twist anew, turning his past kindness to dust.
Silas understood without words. As she fell silent, sunlight couldn't
warm the icy fury hardening his features. Robert Hayes' name became a curse in
his mind.
"Silas," Elara murmured against his chest, drawing strength
from his solid presence. "I didn't tell you this for pity. That memory was
a thorn I've carried forever. But you defending me without hesitation... it
finally let me pull it out."
She met his gaze, her eyes shining with past pain yet transformed by a
radiant smile. "Now I have you - my champion who stands with me
unconditionally. That lonely girl finally has her protector."
Seeing the wounded child she once was reflected in the woman he loved,
Silas felt fierce tenderness overwhelm him. He kissed her forehead like a
sacred vow. "I will always be your fortress. Be bold and fearless - I'm
with you always."
His reverence melted her completely. "Having you is the best thing
that's ever happened to me," she whispered thickly, embracing him. He held
her closer, their world narrowing to this embrace where her rounded belly -
promising their future - pressed safely between them, a family bound by love
and resolve.
The air in Robert Hayes's study was thick with the scent of
stale cigar smoke and desperation. The glowing screen of his laptop, displaying
the news for Aeterna Ventures, was the only light in the room, painting his
haggard face in ghastly shades of blue and white. A slow, triumphant smile
stretched his lips. It was working.
The anonymous tip had detonated like a bomb, just as
promised.
A sharp, discrete buzz from his encrypted phone broke the
silence. The screen flashed: Unknown Caller. He answered, his voice a low,
satisfied rumble. "It's done. The story is everywhere."
"The first wave is only the beginning, Hayes." The voice on
the other end was smooth as polished ice—Julian Cohen. "The press has the bait.
Now, we set the hook deeper. Is Elara reeling?"
Robert's smile faded slightly. "Elara is… resilient. But
this is a direct attack on her judgment, her credibility. She'll be
scrambling."
"Scrambling isn't enough. She needs to be desperate. She
needs to turn to her family for support." Julian's tone was a clear command.
"That's your role. The concerned uncle. Remind her of your… advice."
A cold knot tightened in Robert's stomach. The advice. Weeks
ago, over a carefully orchestrated family dinner, he had leaned across the
table, his voice dripping with paternal concern.
"Elara, my dear, I hear you're looking at the Syntellect
proposal. Brilliant team. A few of them were the real geniuses behind Kore
Tech, you know. A shame what happened to that lab. Silas could probably tell
you more about that… but from what I remember, their core architecture was
groundbreaking. A very solid bet."
He had seen the flicker of trust in her eyes, the
appreciation for his insider knowledge. He had felt like a master puppeteer.
"I'll call her," Robert said, his confidence returning.
"I'll express my outrage, my support. I'll guide her toward the conclusion that
Thorne money needs to be used to contain this, to shore up confidence. The
Hayes-Thorne project would be a perfect, visible show of strength."
"Precisely." Julian's voice was a razor blade wrapped in
silk. "You secure your funding and discredit the Thornes in one move. We get
Aeterna neutered and acquire Syntellect's assets for pennies on the dollar once
they're bankrupted by lawsuits. Everyone wins."
"Except my niece," Robert muttered, almost to himself.
A short, humourless laugh echoed down the line.
"Sentimentality is a luxury you sold, Hayes, when you took our first wire
transfer. Or have you forgotten the mountain of debt we pulled you from? We own
that debt. We own you."
The line went dead. Robert slammed the phone down, his hand
trembling with a mixture of fury and fear. He poured a generous measure of
whiskey, the amber liquid doing little to burn away the taste of his own
treachery. He was a pawn, and he knew it. But a pawn could still checkmate a
king if it was moved by the right player.
He was so deep in his thoughts he didn't hear the study door
open.
"Who owns you, Robert?"
He spun around, glass in hand, to find his wife, Claire,
standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed, her face pale and etched with a
disgust so profound it seemed to age her a decade.
"Claire! Don't you know how to knock?" he barked, attempting
to bluster his way through the shock.
"I heard enough. 'You own that debt. You own you.'" Her
voice was trembling, but her gaze was steady. "It's true, then. This scandal
with Elara… you're involved. You're working with the Cohens to destroy her."
Robert set his glass down with a sharp thud. "I am saving
this family! Something you have never been able to comprehend. Hayes
Enterprises is hanging by a thread. Elara is sitting on a fortune, parading
around as a self-made woman when her success is built on the Thorne name and
the Hayes blood she's always scorned! She owes us."
"Owes you?" Claire's laugh was brittle. "You're destroying
her to line your own pockets. You're no better than the vultures circling us.
And you dragged our daughter's name into your filth! Using the threat of
marrying her off to that Wade monster to pressure me? I will never let you
sacrifice Bianca to your greed."
"Then what do you suggest?" Robert roared, advancing on her.
"Do you have a hundred million dollars hidden in your jewellery box? This is
the real world, Claire! This is how survival works!"
"This isn't survival," she whispered, her eyes glistening
with unshed tears. "This is a slow suicide. And I won't be in the room when you
pull the trigger."
She turned and walked out, leaving him alone in the dark
with his shame and his failing empire.
Across the city, the mood in the Thorne penthouse was a
stark contrast to Robert's shadowy study. It was a quiet, focused storm.
Elara was curled on the sofa, a tablet in her lap, her brow
furrowed in concentration. The initial shock had worn off, replaced by a cold,
sharp clarity. Silas stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, phone to his ear,
his voice a low, commanding hum that vibrated through the room.
"The IP is clean, Ben. I want the forensic audit on Kore
Tech's dissolution. Follow the money. Every shell company, every offshore
account. I don't care how deep you have to dig." He listened for a moment, his
eyes narrowing. "The Cohens? Good. Find the connection. I want it airtight."
He ended the call and turned to Elara. Her silence was more
concerning than any outburst.
"The algorithm is original," she said, not looking up from
her screen. "I've gone over the Syntellect team's code repositories myself. The
timestamps, the development logs… it's theirs. This 'leaked' schematic from
Kore Tech is a Frankenstein monster—parts of old, public-domain code stitched
together to look similar." She finally met his gaze, her eyes blazing with a
fierce light. "This isn't an accident. This is a hit."
"I know," Silas said, moving to sit beside her. He took her
hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "And the shooter isn't just aiming at
you."
Her phone vibrated on the coffee table. The screen lit up:
Uncle Robert.
Elara and Silas exchanged a long, knowing look. The puppet
master was making his move.
She took a deep breath and answered, putting it on speaker.
"Uncle Robert."
"Elara, my dear girl!" Robert's voice was a masterpiece of
feigned concern. "I've just seen the news. This is… this is catastrophic! Are
you alright? How could this Syntellect team do this to you?"
"They didn't," Elara said, her voice dangerously calm. "The
claims are false."
"Well, of course you'd say that, you have to defend your
investment!" he replied, his tone shifting to patronising. "But the court of
public opinion is a ruthless place. This will sink Aeterna if you don't act
decisively."
"And what would you consider decisive action?" Silas asked,
his voice flat, cutting through the line.
There was a slight pause, a barely perceptible intake of
breath. "Silas! I didn't realise you were there. Well, it's clear. The Thorne
Group needs to make a powerful, public show of support. A massive capital
injection. The best way to do that is to fast-track the funding for our joint
project. It will show the market that you stand by Elara, that Thorne capital
is untouchable. It's the only way to stem the bleeding."
Elara felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air
conditioning. It was the necklace all over again. The false concern. The
helpful suggestion that led directly into a trap. He was using the same
playbook, just with higher stakes.
"An interesting proposal, Robert," Silas said, his gaze
locked with Elara's. "We'll take it under advisement."
"Don't wait too long," Robert pressed, a hint of desperation
seeping through. "A scandal like this has a short fuse. You need to act now,
before your investors abandon you."
After a few more hollow pleasantries, Elara ended the call.
She stared at the phone as if it were a venomous snake.
"He's in on it," she whispered, the betrayal a physical ache
in her chest. "He vouched for them. He told me Syntellect was a 'solid bet.' He
knew about Kore Tech. He set me up."
Silas pulled her into his arms, his embrace a fortress
against the world. "I know."
"It's like the old time," she murmured into his chest, her
voice thick. "He made me believe him, too. He soothed me, only to go and tell
Bianca it was all a misunderstanding. He's never been on my side. He just… owns
the board."
Silas's hand stroked her back, his touch steadying. "He's
overplayed his hand. He's desperate, and desperate men make mistakes." He
leaned back, tilting her chin up so she had to look at him. His eyes were like
chips of obsidian, reflecting a cold, ruthless fire. "But he's not the
mastermind. He's a pawn. And whoever behind him have just made a fatal error."
"What's that?" Elara asked, captivated by the absolute,
unshakable certainty in his gaze.
A slow, predatory smile spread across Silas's face, a look
that promised ruin for their enemies and safety for her. "They came after my
wife," he said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "They threatened what's
mine. Now, they get to learn the price of that mistake."