Chapter 7 – The Game Begins
The night air tasted like champagne and ashes.
By the time the gala lights faded into the distance, my heartbeat had steadied, but my hands still trembled. It wasn't fear — not anymore. It was fury held too tightly, wrapped in silk and self-control.
I closed the door to my penthouse and let the smile fall from my face. The mask hit the floor first, then my heels, then the necklace Ethan once gave me — a cruel joke of fate, now hanging from Sophie's neck.
For a long moment, I just stood there, staring at my reflection in the glass wall overlooking the city.
Same skyline.
Different woman.
New war.
He hadn't recognized me. Not the eyes he used to trace, not the voice he used to whisper to. I should have felt victorious, but instead, I felt hollow.
"How easy it is to forget a corpse," I whispered to my reflection.
But forgetting doesn't mean forgiven.
I sat by the window, opened my tablet, and pulled up the digital press release of the Alade–Cole partnership. The photograph of Ethan smiling beside my father made bile rise in my throat.
> CEO Ethan Cole thanks Alade Holdings for their continued support and partnership.
Support. Partnership.
Two words that once meant love and trust — now nothing but tools in my hand.
I zoomed in on Ethan's face, studying every angle. The same confident arrogance. The same hunger for power. The same man who thought he'd buried me six feet beneath his ambition.
But this time, I would be the one holding the shovel.
I opened a blank document and began to type:
Target 1: Vanessa Drew.
Objective: Isolate and expose.
If Ethan was the heart of the empire that killed me, Vanessa was its poison vein. She'd sold my secrets, forged documents, smiled while I bled. Now she was back — his PR manager, standing right beside him at the gala.
I traced her smiling face on the screen with one nail. "You first," I murmured.
My phone buzzed.
A message. Unknown number.
> You left early. Couldn't sleep either? – Jason Cole
My chest tightened. Jason. The quiet brother with eyes that looked like he'd seen too much and said too little.
I typed, erased, and retyped.
> Long night. Too many introductions.
Seconds later:
> You handle them better than most.
I hesitated. Why was he texting me? Curiosity? Politeness? Or something deeper he didn't yet understand?
> You noticed that? I replied.
> Hard not to.
A small smile tugged at my lips. Dangerous territory. I wasn't here to flirt — I was here to destroy. But every game needs a pawn. Or a shield.
Jason Cole could be both.
I didn't reply again. Instead, I closed the phone and whispered to the night,
> "If his brother won't bleed for what he's done, then maybe he'll be the one to break."
---
Morning came in gold and silence.
At Alade Holdings, I walked into the boardroom with purpose. Assistants whispered, cameras flashed, and I wore confidence like perfume.
Ethan was already there — all tailored charm and arrogance, talking to my father.
When he saw me enter, he smiled faintly. "Miss Alade. We meet again."
I inclined my head. "Mr. Cole."
He gestured to the seat beside him. "Would you join us?"
Poison disguised as politeness. I took the seat, every inch of me composed.
As the meeting started, I let my gaze drift over the papers, the contracts, the clauses — and then to the reflection in the glass wall beside us. Ethan, smiling. Me, still.
And just behind us, Jason, standing quietly by the window, his eyes on me instead of the discussion.
When Ethan began presenting, Jason caught my gaze — and for a moment, I saw something in his eyes: a warning. Or maybe recognition.
After the meeting, Jason approached me while his brother shook hands with my father.
"You handled him well," he said quietly.
I arched a brow. "Handled?"
His mouth quirked. "He has a habit of underestimating people. You didn't give him the chance."
I smiled faintly. "That's the trick, isn't it? Let them think they're leading."
Jason studied me, thoughtful. "Something tells me you're not the kind of woman who lets anyone lead."
The words landed too close to truth. For a heartbeat, I forgot my script.
Then I slipped Sophie's smile back on. "Maybe you don't know me well enough yet."
"Maybe I'd like to."
He left before I could answer, his cologne lingering longer than his words.
I watched him go, feeling the shift begin — slow and inevitable. Ethan's empire, Vanessa's lies, Jason's curiosity — all threads in the same web.
And I was the spider now.
I gathered my files, straightened my blazer, and whispered to myself as I walked out:
> "The game has begun."