The plush velvet carpet of the Thorne library felt like coarse sandpaper under Victoria Thorne's elegant high heels. The room, which usually brought her calm, now felt like a cage closing in. It had been less than an hour since Charles walked out to meet Aria and Elias, and already the air felt toxic with her panic.
Her conversation with the unknown contact was short, cold, and entirely professional. She had launched a private, high-stakes attack, requesting a major security failure to stop Aria from attending the board meeting tomorrow. She wanted to damage Aria's credibility, derail her corporate plans, and buy herself time to destroy any evidence linking her to Aria's past trauma. This was a declaration of war, not a mere defense.
She began to pace, her sapphire necklace rising and falling with her sharp, shallow breaths. She was calculating the cost and the risk. The financial cost was nothing. She controlled immense private assets that could buy silence or action a hundred times over. The risk of exposure was everything. If this plan failed, she would be ruined, her carefully constructed life dissolving into tabloid headlines and legal documents. But if she did nothing, Aria would take everything, and worse, she would expose the truth about the kidnapping, a truth Victoria had spent two decades burying under layers of charity galas and corporate success. The shame of it would destroy her more completely than any financial loss.
Victoria had a vast network of wealthy, equally manipulative socialite friends and corporate contacts. She knew that in moments of crisis, these people talked, boasted, or, most dangerously, gossiped. The whispers began not in a boardroom, but at brunch tables. If she wanted to stop Aria from talking, she needed her own cover story ready, one that painted her as the sympathetic martyr she truly believed she was.
She stopped pacing and grabbed a bottle of expensive French brandy, pouring a small amount into a crystal glass. She didn't drink often, but the metallic, bitter taste of fear needed to be washed away. She stared at her reflection in the dark liquid, searching for the strong, ruthless woman she knew herself to be.
"I must be ready for the questions," she whispered to the empty room. "I must be the victim." It was the only role that guaranteed her the moral high ground and, more importantly, protection from public scorn.
She opened her phone, not to call friends, but to contact her personal public relations consultant. This was a move Jax had correctly anticipated: Victoria's weakness was her reliance on social perception and the fear of a bad headline.
"It's Victoria," she said to the consultant, her voice pitched to sound distressed but controlled, a fragile porcelain doll about to crack. There are rumors. Terrible, unfounded rumors regarding the Vance Global takeover and my family's stability. I need a preemptive statement ready. Something about corporate harassment and the emotional trauma this is causing me.
She was building her defense, playing the role of the fragile society woman being attacked by cold, aggressive corporate raiders . This maneuver would give her a sympathetic image in the society pages, a necessary distraction from the real, illicit actions she was ordering. It was exactly what Jax was preparing Nick to analyze.
Meanwhile, at Zenith Records, the news from the surveillance team had struck like lightning. Charles Thorne signed the document.
Damian Reed, the CEO, stood in the legal conference room, looking deeply concerned. Across the table sat Mr. Tony, the Legal Counsel and Business Affairs Manager, a man known for his calm, encyclopedic knowledge of corporate law. The air of controlled chaos in the room was palpable, a stark contrast to the thick silence outside the soundproof doors.
"So, Mr. Tony, is the consensus that the Zenith acquisition is now just a sideshow?" Damian asked, running a tired hand through his silver hair. He felt a wave of relief mixed with acute professional embarrassment. They had been played.
Mr. Tony adjusted his thin glasses, tapping a pen on the table. He wore a simple, excellent suit, a stark contrast to Damian's flashier style. His measured cadence was a balm against Damian's rising anxiety.
"The consensus is that the primary target was always the Thorne Company's board, Damian," Mr. Tony confirmed, his voice precise and clear. Elias Vance used the Zenith deal as a very effective shield. By focusing his attention on a complex merger, he diverted resources while completing the internal takeover of the Thorne Company. Charles Thorne's signature is a massive coup. It is the critical linchpin that destabilizes Victoria's voting block entirely. The complexity of the corporate structure, in this instance, became her undoing.
Damian sighed, leaning back in his leather chair. So, we are safe. Aria Vance is just focused on her family revenge. We can close the Zenith deal and be done with the drama. He wanted to believe it.
"Legally, yes. You are safe. Your company is protected by airtight agreements, Mr. Tony stated. But strategically? Victoria Thorne is certainly not safe. And when a major shareholder faces financial and social ruin, they become erratic. They lash out not with strategy, but with desperation. He paused, letting the severity of the prediction sink in. Victoria's next moves will be impulsive, likely illegal, and highly messy. The collateral damage, the fallout from her ruin, could still splash back onto Zenith, especially given Mr. Ryland's past involvement with Aria Vance. We must anticipate the unpredictable element.
Damian looked worriedly at the door. "Jax is convinced Victoria will make a public mistake."
"He is probably right," Mr. Tony agreed. Victoria values her social standing above all else. When she panics, she will try to control the narrative through her friends and the media. Any misstep, any whisper of illegal action, will be a goldmine for an opposing legal team or a curious rock star. They knew Jax would not let a good story, or a serious threat, pass by.
In the main Zenith Records studio, the Aether members were drenched in sweat, executing a demanding dance sequence for a song requiring immense stamina and grace. Jax, Kellan, Rhys, and Nick moved as one, their celebrity bodies trained to perform high-impact choreography with flawless precision.
Kellan, Rhys, higher jump! Full commitment! Nick, your turn is perfect, but the landing needs more snap! Jax called out, his own movements sharp and commanding. He was pushing them, channeling the rising tension into physical discipline.
They ran the sequence one final time, collapsing onto the floor afterward, their exhaustion palpable. The music cut out, replaced by the heavy sound of their breathing.
"My legs are finished, Jax," Rhys gasped, wiping sweat from his brow.
"That's the kind of discipline we need for the tour," Jax replied, taking a long drink of water. But the tour can wait. Now, back to the war. Nick, let's see what you found on the social battlefield.
Nick stood up and walked over to Jax, grabbing his tablet. He had set up his analysis station in a quiet corner and had been running surveillance on the media while his body rested between dance sets.
He saw the first subtle sign: a minor society blog posted a "sympathy post" about Victoria Thorne, quoting an unnamed friend claiming she was suffering "extreme emotional distress" due to "vicious, unfounded corporate bullying."
He then cross-referenced the quote's unique wording with social media posts from Victoria's closest circle. He saw that Daphne Sterling, a well-known socialite whose family's company had recently faced a similar corporate challenge, had used almost the exact same phrase two days earlier in a private tweet to a journalist. Nick had found the coordinated script. She was sending out her narrative, making sure everyone knew she was the victim.
Nick presented the crucial piece of information. Jax, she's setting the stage. She's coordinated her narrative. But here's the mistake: I found a freelance journalist who got a tip about Aria being stopped at customs a few months ago. The tip was entirely fabricated, a classic piece of planted, unverified information. The journalist said it came from an untraceable burner email but used too much specific detail about vague past locations. It's sloppy intelligence leaking. Victoria clearly believes this false rumor is true, which is why she's using it.
Jax's eyes narrowed as he looked at the screen, the dancer momentarily replaced by the strategist. He understood the subtext immediately. Aria had vanished completely at age sixteen, only to reappear recently as a major shareholder in Vance Global. Her past was a vacuum. Victoria could not possibly have real dirt. Victoria was not just using social media for PR; she was actively trying to damage Aria's professional reputation using this fabricated narrative. This planned leak hinted that Aria had engaged in suspicious international travel that flagged customs, which was a subtle attack on her legitimacy as a businesswoman, suggesting she was involved in something illicit.
She's not just talking, Nick. She's actively attacking Aria's current corporate facade with bad intel, Jax confirmed, his gaze intense. She hired someone to dig into Aria. And now, she's using those leaks to spread doubt. She is trying to compromise Aria's standing before the board meeting tomorrow. She's aiming to discredit her entirely by using this unverified claim as her weapon.
He looked at the weary but focused faces of his bandmates. Victoria is getting desperate. And desperate people make big, public mistakes. We just need to be ready to document the moment she self-destructs.
Miles away, in the exclusive private club, Charles Thorne had finished signing the document. The transaction was complete. The Thorne company was now firmly in Aria and Elias's control.
"Thank you, Charles," Elias said, his voice completely devoid of emotion, sealing the folder with a sharp snap. "This concludes our business."
Aria finally looked directly at Charles. Not with hatred, but with a cold, distant acknowledgment. The corporate mask she wore was impenetrable.
"You fulfilled your duty, Charles," she said, rising from the table. Now, please, return to the mansion. I have no wish to see you again.
Charles, heartbroken but resigned, simply nodded. He felt a profound sense of loss, but also a strange, terrible peace. He had finally faced his failure.
As Charles left, Elias turned to Aria, his eyes shifting from corporate perfection to soldier-mercenary mode.
"The board is secured, Commander," Elias said, using her high-ranking title in the safety of the private room. "You successfully leveraged his guilt."
Aria, a small line of tension softening near her jaw, was already checking her small, secure communication device. Her mind was already on the next phase: securing the assets for her fashion company to launch the true reward. She might only be a shareholder in Elias's company, but her influence was absolute.
"Victoria is acting predictably, Elias," Aria said, her voice dropping to a low, intense tone. She is panicked. She will try to stop the board vote. She likely launched a disruption to compromise my ability to attend the meeting tomorrow. She thinks she's targeting my travel; she is targeting my life.
Elias, her fiercely loyal soldier, looked ready for action. He knew his true role was not CEO, but muscle and support for the Commander. Elias's Vice President was the one who handled the public-facing aspects of Vance Global, ensuring Elias remained safely out of the spotlight for his missions with Aria.
Aria gave him the chilling, focused look that defined her. "No. Let her play her game. We need to see the extent of her desperation. Let her make her mistake. She thinks she is attacking a corporate heiress. She doesn't know she is attacking a professional operative.
She looked at her watch. "Our official travel plans for tomorrow are public knowledge. Let Victoria think she knows where I am going to be. We will use the disruption she launches as a distraction for our true movement."
Elias nodded, his intense soldier loyalty showing. He knew his role was to follow.
Aria looked out the window at the distant city lights, preparing for the inevitable, messy confrontation that Victoria was about to unleash. She had been a ghost for years, but now, the eclipse was complete, and she was ready to destroy everything in her way to finally gain her freedom and start her creative life.