The calm after the storm was only an illusion. Days had passed since the public hearing, and Sarah Darselle had allowed herself a moment of fragile relief. Clara's laughter filled the apartment as she played with her dolls, oblivious to the world beyond the walls. Eric moved through the space with quiet efficiency, coordinating with the board, the legal team, and PR, all while keeping the child's safety a priority. For the first time in weeks, Sarah allowed herself to imagine that maybe, just maybe, the chaos was behind them.
But the city has a way of reminding you that calm is always temporary.
---
The first alert arrived just as the office lights flickered to life. Sarah's computer pinged, an internal audit notification flashing across the screen. At first glance, it looked like a routine report. But the numbers were off. Files she had personally overseen had been tampered with. Financial records, client contracts, internal emails — all subtly altered to implicate her in misconduct.
A cold knot formed in her stomach.
"Not again," she whispered, tapping her fingers against the desk. Eric, entering the room moments later, caught the tension instantly.
"What is it?" His voice was calm, precise, but his eyes scanned her like radar, seeking the invisible threat.
She turned the screen toward him. "It's a leak, Eric. Internal. Everything points to me."
Eric's lips pressed into a thin line. "This isn't accidental. Someone's trying to frame you — frame us. And I know who it is."
"Laurent," Sarah breathed, the name tasting bitter on her tongue.
"Yes," Eric said, his jaw tightening. "And he's gotten creative. He's infiltrated our systems, planted evidence, and bribed someone inside the company to do it."
---
By mid-morning, the atmosphere in Westford Tower was suffocating. Employees moved like shadows, whispering behind closed doors, suspicious glances following Sarah wherever she went. She felt the weight of every eye, every rumor, every half-truth that had begun circulating. Even the air conditioning seemed to hum with tension, vibrating against her skin like a low warning.
An executive assistant approached, voice trembling. "Ms. Darselle… there's… unusual activity in your division. Files missing, unauthorized access attempts… We're not sure what's happening, but it's escalating."
Sarah's stomach knotted tighter. "I need a full report. Names. Timestamps. Logs. Everything."
The assistant nodded, fleeing down the corridor like a small bird under threat. Sarah exhaled slowly, a rhythm of control she forced herself to maintain. Panic would help no one.
---
The board convened an emergency meeting by midday. Eric and Sarah entered the room together, a united front against a storm that had not yet revealed its full fury. Laurent's presence was felt even in absence — a ghost hovering over every whispered doubt, every questioning glance.
The chairman began, voice low but edged with tension. "This situation is beyond the ordinary. If these leaks are true… our reputation, our investors, our clients — everything is at risk. How do you respond, Mr. Westford?"
Eric's eyes were icy, controlled, his voice sharp. "We respond with facts. Verification. Every document planted against us is falsified. Every claim is traced, investigated, and disproven. We are not panicking, because there is nothing to hide."
A murmur went through the room. Some members were skeptical; others hopeful. Sarah stood beside him, shoulder straight, heart racing, but calm outwardly.
Laurent's strategy was clear: isolate, intimidate, disorient. The person within the company, bribed and corrupted, had created a perfect storm. Every report, every contract, every minor error had been twisted into an attack aimed at her.
---
By afternoon, evidence began to surface. Sarah pored over internal logs, cross-referencing anomalies. Each timestamp told a story. Emails had been sent from her account, but at impossible hours, from IPs outside the country. Client contracts had been subtly altered. Every financial transaction had been shifted, then backdated, in ways designed to implicate her.
Her pulse raced, yet she focused. She would find the traitor — not because she had to prove herself to the board, not for Eric, not even for the city watching every headline — but because her daughter's future, her family's legacy, depended on it.
---
Late afternoon brought a meeting that chilled her more than any evidence could. One of Eric's long-trusted executives, someone who had always been a steady presence in the company, stepped forward with a hesitant expression.
"Sarah… Eric… I… I have to tell you something," he began, voice wavering. "I… I've been compromised. I was offered compensation… and…"
Sarah's eyes widened. Betrayal struck sharper than any physical blow.
Eric's hand clenched into a fist on the edge of the conference table. "You worked with Laurent?" His voice was quiet, deadly precise.
The executive nodded. "I didn't want to… but the leverage… the threats… I… I'm sorry."
Sarah's stomach dropped. All the strategic leaks, the framing, the internal chaos — it had been orchestrated from within. Laurent's fingers reached further than they could see.
---
That evening, Sarah returned home to Clara. The child's innocent laughter filled the apartment, but Sarah's mind was racing. She could not rely solely on Eric to fight this battle. She had to act. Alone.
She pulled out her phone, contacting an old ally — someone skilled with digital infiltration, someone she trusted implicitly. "I need a full trace on the leaks inside Westford Tower. I need to find the traitor and the backchannel Laurent is using."
The hacker's response was immediate, professional: "Consider it done. Give me access."
Sarah connected remotely to the company network under the cover of night, adrenaline sharp in her veins. Every firewall, every encrypted folder, every hidden server log became a puzzle she could solve.
And then… she saw it.
A folder, marked simply: "Project Redemption."
Her breath caught. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard.
Before she could click, a sudden video feed opened. Laurent's face filled the screen, smirking.
"You really thought I wouldn't see you coming, Sarah Darselle?"
Her heart hammered, but determination flared brighter. This was her fight. Her family. Her daughter. And she would not — could not — back down.
The storm had arrived inside the walls of the company, and Sarah was ready to meet it head-on.