The note haunted her.
It sat in her drawer, its elegant handwriting burned into Selina's memory. She thought of it on the subway ride to work, in the elevator rising to Kane Enterprises' twenty-fourth floor, even in the silence of Oliver's office when he wasn't there.
Stay away from Oliver Kane.
It wasn't just a warning. It was a declaration. Clara wasn't playing office politics anymore she was cutting straight into Selina's heart.
The office felt heavier that week. Whispers followed Selina wherever she walked. Some coworkers looked at her with sympathy; others with barely disguised satisfaction. Clara, of course, thrived in the tension.
One morning, Selina walked past the lounge and froze at the sound of her name.
"Honestly," a young analyst whispered, "if she thinks Oliver Kane would choose her over Clara, she's delusional. Clara's practically family."
"Exactly," another chimed in. "Her father invested in Kane Enterprises when Oliver was just starting out. He owes her. That girl—what's her name? Selina?
She's just… temporary."
Selina's throat tightened. She wanted to storm in and defend herself, but she forced her legs to keep moving. Clara didn't just have money; she had history, ties deeper than Selina could ever match.
And Oliver? He never said much about it.
Friday evening, the company held a closed networking dinner for international partners. It was a small, exclusive event at the penthouse level of the Ritz. Selina hadn't been invited at first, but Oliver personally told her to attend.
"Stand by me tonight," he'd said. "You've earned that much."
The words should have lifted her. Instead, they weighed on her chest.
The Ritz glittered with chandeliers and crystal glasses, the air heavy with perfume and old money. Selina wore her best black dress, modest but sharp. She entered at Oliver's side, trying to ignore the curious stares from the elite.
Clara was already there. She looked flawless, wrapped in red silk, her lips painted to match. She glided toward them like she owned the room.
"Oliver," she said warmly, kissing him on the cheek. "You look handsome tonight."
Then her gaze slid to Selina, sharp and amused. "And you… well, you're here too."
Selina forced a smile. "Don't look so surprised."
"Oh, I'm not," Clara murmured, looping her arm around Oliver's without hesitation. "Oliver knows I'm always by his side."
Oliver didn't flinch. He didn't even move her hand.
The crack in Selina's chest widened.
Dinner was torture. Clara sat to Oliver's right, Selina on his left. Every time Selina tried to speak, Clara cut her off with some charming anecdote or clever remark that made the partners laugh.
Oliver barely intervened. He gave Selina small glances, silent reassurances, but no words. No defense.
At one point, Clara leaned close to Oliver, her laughter spilling like champagne. Selina caught the brush of Clara's hand against his.
And Oliver didn't pull away.
Selina's fork clattered against her plate. She excused herself and slipped into the bathroom, gripping the sink as she stared at her reflection.
This is what Clara wants. To make me doubt. To make me crumble.
But then the door opened, and Clara stepped inside.
"Well," she said, checking her lipstick in the mirror. "That was uncomfortable, wasn't it?"
Selina's jaw tightened. "You're pathetic."
Clara smirked. "Pathetic? Darling, I'm untouchable. My family's money built Kane Enterprises. My father mentored Oliver when he had nothing. Do you really think he'll throw all that away… for you?"
Selina swallowed hard.
Clara leaned closer, her perfume suffocating. "Oliver belongs to me. Always has. Always will. You're just a distraction—a pretty one, maybe, but temporary."
Selina forced herself not to react, but Clara's next words sliced deeper.
"Oh, and those emails? I'm just getting started. You think the board trusts you now? Wait until they see what I have next."
Selina's breath hitched. "Why me? Why are you so threatened?"
Clara's smile was cold. "Because you make him look at you the way he's supposed to look at me. And I won't allow it."
Then she walked out, leaving Selina shaking by the sink.
The dinner ended late, but Selina didn't wait for Oliver. She slipped out before dessert, her chest hollow, her eyes burning.
The city lights blurred as she walked through the streets alone. For the first time, she wondered if Clara was right.
Maybe she was temporary. Maybe Oliver would never truly choose her.
Her phone buzzed. A notification. She opened it and froze.
A new article had just been published.
"Oliver Kane's Secret Love Affair: The Woman Behind the Billionaire."
And beneath the headline, a blurry photo of Selina leaving his office late at night.
Her heart dropped.
The article painted her as an opportunist; a scheming consultant sleeping her way up. It mentioned her "lack of pedigree," her "suspiciously fast promotion," and hinted that Oliver's favoritism was jeopardizing the company's reputation.
The final line gutted her: "Sources suggest long-time confidante Clara Bennett has been forced to cover for Selina's incompetence, further solidifying her role as Kane Enterprises' true heir apparent."
Selina's vision blurred. She didn't need to guess who the "sources" were.
Clara.
It was Clara again.
When Selina arrived at the office Monday morning, the atmosphere was suffocating. People stared openly. Conversations stopped when she passed.
Even the boardroom doors seemed heavier as she entered. Oliver sat at the head of the table, flanked by Clara.
The chairman cleared his throat. "Mr. Kane, we've reviewed the latest article. This… scandal, if true, damages the integrity of the company. We need answers."
Oliver's jaw was tight. "There is no scandal. Selina is a consultant, nothing more."
But the room was unconvinced. Clara folded her hands delicately. "Oliver, darling, maybe it's better if Selina steps away from high-visibility projects for the company's sake."
Her words dripped with false concern.
Selina felt the walls close in. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "This is a setup. Clara's feeding lies to the press."
Gasps. Murmurs.
Clara tilted her head. "Accusing me won't erase your mistakes, sweetheart."
The boardroom fell silent. All eyes turned to Oliver. His expression was unreadable.
Finally, he said, "Selina, maybe… maybe it's best if you take a step back. At least until this blows over."
The words shattered her.
She looked at him, searching for some sign, some flicker that he didn't mean it. But Oliver wouldn't meet her eyes.
Clara smiled. Victorious.
Selina rose slowly, her legs trembling but her voice steady. "Fine. If that's what you want."
And she walked out, leaving the room in stunned silence.
Back in her apartment, Selina sat on the floor in the dark. For the first time, she let herself cry not just from humiliation, but from betrayal.
Clara had won.
Oliver had let her.
Her dreams, her hard work, her fragile hope all lay in pieces around her.
But as the tears slowed, something shifted.
Selina wiped her face, her hands trembling not from weakness, but from something hotter.
Anger.
No. Clara hadn't won. Not yet.
If Clara wanted war, Selina would give her one.
And this time, she wouldn't just defend herself. She'd destroy Clara's game piece by piece.