Silas sat on the white couch as he loosed his tie and tossed it and unbuttoned his shirt also. Then he drank from the wine bottle that was almost empty.
He stood up and went to get another wine bottle before sitting back down on the couch thinking what had actually happened.
'Where did everything go wrong?' The Carson Company was suffering a lot if only the wedding was successful and all he would have been able to stand up on his feet.
Silas was just looking at the tile wishing it had all the answers to his question.
The code beeped as she inputted it and then when she was done it opened
Click.
Bridget walked in a short skirt, jean jacket over a thin top. She looked like she had been out but hadn't enjoyed a second of it.
Silas raised his head slowly, eyes locking on her.
"What do you want?" His voice was low, heavy, the wine making it rough.
"We need to talk."
She walked over and sat beside him, her perfume hitting his nose before her hand grabbed the bottle from his.
"Give me that." Silas said
"No." She sipped straight from the bottle, eyes on him.
Silas sat up, a flash of anger breaking through his drunken haze. "Bridget—"
"Listen to me." Her tone cut him off.
He froze. She rarely spoke to him like that.
"You are not thinking this through," she said, leaning forward now. "Fidelia is playing with us. I didn't tell her anything. And my mom didn't either. So how she knew— I don't know. But that's not the issue."
His jaw clenched. "Then what's the issue?"
"The issue," she said, her voice rising, "is that she's trying to turn us against each other. You said she told you I blabbed? Why the hell would I do that? Think, Silas. Think. She wants you to be paranoid. She wants us to fight."
Her words were starting to make sense to him. Bridget had no reason to blab about her or the plan.
'So how did she know?'
Silas blinked slowly, his drunken haze clearing just enough for the thought to land. Could Fidelia really be playing them?
Bridget wasn't done. "She's making us look stupid. And it's working."
He watched her as she leaned back, still clutching his bottle like it was hers now.
'Fidelia!!'
For a second, he forgot about Fidelia. All he saw was Bridget pissed, fire in her eyes, lips wet from the wine.
Bridget wasn't just angry. She was hurt.
Because two hours ago she had been humiliated too.
....
Andrian called her while she was at home. She had smiled when she picked up. "Adrian, what's wrong? Are you okay? I saw the headlines"
"Forget about marriage."
The words hit her like ice water. "What?"
"I'm not interested anymore."
Her heart dropped. "What do you mean? We had an agreement. You need me. I need you. That was the deal."
A low laugh came through the phone, casual, cruel.
"That's where you're wrong. You're not as important as you think."
And then he hung up from the phone.
She'd stared at her screen in shock, her breath coming sharp and fast.
Bridget Crawford, tossed aside like she was nothing.
---
She pushed the memory away now, sitting beside Silas again in the quiet.
She had taken enough hits tonight.
Silas spoke first. "So what? You came here to vent?"
"No." She turned to him, crossing her legs slowly. "I came here because we need to pay her back."
He stared at her, their faces inches apart now.
"That's why I'm here," she added, her voice low. "So we can plan."
Silas leaned closer and that spark the one they'd buried under deals and secrets came alive again.
His gaze dropped to her lips.
"That can wait," he said.
Bridget's heart thudded. She didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Then she stood up only to straddle him, pressing her mouth to his and it wasn't gentle. It was hunger.
Two people humiliated, bleeding pride, now taking it out on each other.
Silas grabbed her waist, pulling her in, and Bridget let him.
Her jacket slipped off her shoulders. His hands were everywhere: her back, her thighs, her hair.
She wanted this..no she needed this.
They craved each other like oxygen.
"Damn," Silas muttered against her mouth, his voice rough, "you've been holding out on me."
She smirked. "Shut up and undress me."
His hands obeyed, unbuttoning her top, sliding it off to reveal black lace.
"Fuck," he whispered, staring at her.
"Don't just stare," she said, breathless.
He didn't just stare, he grabbed her breast, squeezing it and feeling how soft she was in his hand. She gasped.
"Silas…"
Her voice broke when his mouth replaced his hand, sucking, biting, making her arch against him.
She ground herself against him, feeling how hard he was already.
She reached between them, unzipping him, pulling him out.
Big and Long exactly like she imagined.
She stroked him slowly, teasing, watching him groan against her chest.
"Bridget—"
"Hmm?" she hummed, leaning down to kiss him while her hand kept working him, soft and deliberate.
He grabbed her hips, pushing her down harder against him.
She could feel him throbbing, close, so close and then she pulled away.
"What the hell—"
She grabbed the white robe from the arm of the couch and wrapped it around herself, smirking.
"Thanks for undressing me," she said, heading for the door. "I have business to attend to."
"Bridget," he called, still catching his breath, "don't start something you can't finish."
She turned, giving him one last look over her shoulder.
"Who says I can't?"
And then she left him there, still burning.
Fidelia knew she had something else to do. George was her target and she had to take him down.
This wasn't about anyone else anymore. This was personal.
If she wanted to win the fight for the company, George had to go down.
She hadn't slept through the entire night till this morning.
Her laptop sat open on the table, documents spread across the screen. She scrolled through them, her eyes sharp and unblinking.
"Mia," she said over the call, "George isn't clean."
"What did you find?" Mia's voice came through, calm but alert.
"Fake receipts. Forged bank accounts. Entire shell companies. He's not working alone. Someone's backing him."
"Can you prove it?" Mia asked.
Fidelia smirked bitterly. "I already can. I have enough transactions to nail him for embezzlement. It's enough to start."
"So what's next?"
Fidelia leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment.
"We watch him. Track everything. When I'm ready…" Her voice hardened. "I'll end him."
After a while, she rested her head down on the table, really tired as she hadn't slept throughout. Andrian woke up and walked out to the sitting room and found her sleeping.
He moved closer to her, admiring her as he brushed her hair so he could see how beautiful she was.
"You are awake," he said as her eyes opened.
"You need to rest," he continued, but she ignored him.
"About George… I have got your leverage. This guy isn't clean at all. I found evidence of embezzlement, forged receipts, and he has been secretly stealing money from the company. I also found some paper companies he has… I think this is enough to threaten him to step down."
Andrian was checking through when his eyes brightened and he smiled. It was indeed enough. In fact, enough to wreck him.
He looked at Fidelia again as she yawned and then smiled. She had worked all night.
He moved closer and took her hand, wrapping it around his neck.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
He didn't listen. He swept her off the chair and carried her toward the room.
"Stop it… are you trying to force me to have se—"
He dropped her gently on the bed.
"You think a lot. Get some rest. We have a long way to go when you wake up."
She was slightly embarrassed that she had just accused him of something not cool