Clara had been waiting for this moment for months—ever since she had crawled out of the ashes Damien left her in. Every small move, every subtle nudge in the shadows, every sleepless night poring over data and possibilities… it had all been building to this.
Today, she wasn't going to merely inconvenience Damien. She was going to cut deep.
And she was going to enjoy every second.
The Spark of Opportunity
The email arrived at two in the morning.
Clara had been working late in her study, surrounded by scattered printouts, her laptop glowing in the dim light. She'd almost ignored the notification—another spam pitch, she assumed—but the subject line caught her eye:
RedSky – Urgent
Her heart gave a slow, deliberate thud. She clicked.
It was from Rhea.
The message was short, almost cryptic:
Prototype vulnerable. Demo in five days. RedSky board not informed.
No attachments. No obvious details that could be intercepted. Just those three lines and a string of encrypted characters that Clara recognized as the key to unlock a hidden folder on their secure drive.
Inside, she found it: schematics, internal reports, engineer complaints that had been buried in digital backrooms.
The core of RedSky's "revolutionary" product—a renewable energy converter—was a disaster. On paper, it looked sleek. In reality, it was riddled with design flaws, the biggest being a software instability that could cause performance numbers to fluctuate wildly.
Fluctuations in a private test? Embarrassing, but containable. Fluctuations in a public investor demonstration? Fatal.
What RedSky Was to Damien
Clara knew why this was gold.
RedSky Innovations was Damien's new trophy project—a tech startup he'd bought into heavily, painting himself as a forward-thinking visionary. It gave him political capital, social prestige, and most importantly, another stream to funnel influence and money.
But RedSky was also fragile. It wasn't yet generating steady profits. Its survival depended entirely on the confidence of a small group of powerful investors. One bad public impression could send the entire operation into a tailspin.
That was where she would strike.
Calling in Alexander
She waited until morning to loop in Alexander.
He arrived at her apartment with that infuriating calm of his, a dark suit that looked freshly tailored, and eyes that missed nothing.
"I take it this isn't a social call," he said as she ushered him in.
"Not even close." She led him into the study, sliding the RedSky files across the desk. "Rhea came through. Damien's prototype is unstable, and he's showing it off in five days."
Alexander scanned the documents, his expression unreadable. "You're certain the investors don't know?"
"Positive. If they did, they'd pull funding before the demo. But if they see the flaw themselves—live—there's no PR team in the world that can spin it."
He looked up at her. "And your plan?"
"We don't sabotage it directly. Too obvious. We let the flaw show itself—but only after we've primed the right people to notice."
Alexander leaned back in the chair. "You want to control the narrative before it happens."
"Exactly. We leak pieces of this to trusted analysts. They'll watch the demo expecting trouble. When it comes, they'll amplify it—loudly."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, he smiled. "Risky. I like it."
Inside the Lion's Den
While Clara and Alexander mapped out their side of the operation, Rhea was busy in Damien's world.
Working as Damien's "rising star" recruit, she had positioned herself close to RedSky's engineering team. She brought coffee, stayed late, and listened.
"Oh, don't mind me," she'd tell the engineers, leaning over their desks with feigned curiosity. "Just trying to understand how this beauty works before the big day."
Every time she touched the prototype's terminal, she made a copy of its updated logs. Every casual chat with a nervous tech lead added to her arsenal of dirt.
She even managed to plant a suggestion to Damien himself: "Maybe you should make the demo live instead of pre-recorded? People love transparency."
Damien, arrogant as ever, agreed.
Seeding the Doubt
By the third day, Clara's chosen analysts were already murmuring about "unconfirmed issues" with RedSky's product. She hadn't given them everything—just enough to raise eyebrows and sharpen scrutiny.
One of them, a sharp-tongued market commentator named Elise Chen, sent her a one-line reply after Clara's latest nudge:
If what you're hinting is true, this will be a bloodbath.
Perfect.
The Night Before
Clara barely slept. She stood at her window, watching the city hum far below, and thought about every step that had led her here.
Damien had taken everything from her—her company, her reputation, her mother's peace of mind. This wasn't about money. This was about power.
And tomorrow, she was going to take some of his.
The Day of the Demo
She didn't go in person. That would have been too obvious, too risky. Instead, she streamed the event from her penthouse, Alexander beside her, both of them silent as Damien took the stage.
The man looked infuriatingly confident. His navy suit was perfect, his cufflinks gleaming, his voice warm as he charmed the audience.
"For years, the world has searched for clean, sustainable energy," Damien began. "Today, RedSky delivers the answer."
He paced the stage like a seasoned performer. The audience was eating it up.
Then came the live demonstration.
The prototype whirred to life, its sleek casing lit with soft green LEDs. The screen above displayed performance metrics in real time.
At first, it looked fine. But then—just as Rhea had predicted—the numbers flickered. A slight dip.
Damien's smile didn't falter. "Minor fluctuation, perfectly normal in early-stage tech."
The numbers dipped again. This time, they didn't recover. A software window popped up—Error: Calibration Failure—before vanishing just as quickly.
The audience murmured. Cameras zoomed in.
Damien's jaw tightened, but he kept talking, trying to draw attention back to the bigger picture. Unfortunately, the prototype wasn't cooperating. The output readings now fluctuated wildly, dipping so low that one of the engineers off-stage visibly winced.
The Cracks Spread
Clara watched from her living room, her pulse steady. She could see it happening—the subtle shift in investor expressions, the quick glances to phones as they no doubt messaged their assistants to look into this.
Alexander leaned forward, his voice a low hum. "He's losing them."
She nodded. "And he knows it."
By the time Damien wrapped up, the applause was polite at best. The real damage wouldn't be visible until the headlines hit.
The Fallout
Within hours, Elise Chen had posted a blistering commentary:
RedSky's "innovation" looks like it belongs in a recycling bin. Today's live demo revealed catastrophic instability—something its investors should have been told months ago.
Two other analysts followed suit. The next morning, three major investors officially withdrew, citing "loss of confidence."
The financial hit? $12.4 million in personal loss for Damien—and that was just the start. RedSky's valuation plummeted. Rumors swirled about internal disarray.
Victory… for Now
That night, Clara and Alexander sat on her balcony, wine between them.
"You don't look as satisfied as I expected," he said.
"I am," she replied, watching the city lights. "But Damien doesn't lose gracefully. This was a warning shot, not the end."
Alexander studied her. "Then we'll make sure the next shot is fatal."
She looked at him, the warmth of victory mingling with something far more dangerous. "You're enjoying this."
"I'm enjoying watching you win."
The words lingered in the cool night air.
The Message
At 6:12 the next morning, her phone buzzed.
It was a text from an unknown number:
Cute trick. My turn.
Attached was a photo.
Her building. Taken from across the street.
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
The war had just escalated.