Caspian found sanctuary on a deserted terrace as dusk shrouded the estate in soft gold. He clutched the railing, his gaze wandering over clipped hedges beneath. Her voice still rang in his ears, an angry echo that stung him with every pulse of his heart. He remembered Celeste’s pained look as he derided her fixation on the house. Guilt flared hot, mixed with regret that he’d let his frustrations devolve into cutting words.
He heard soft footsteps behind him. Turning, he watched Celeste emerge from the doorway, her face stamped with residual hurt. A gentle quiet lingered between them, interrupted only by the faint song of nighttime insects. Her hands twisted nervously, but she took a brave step forward. Neither one spoke for a tense moment.
Finally, Caspian gulped, shoving his pride out of the way. “I was wrong,” he said, his voice low. “I can tell how important that house is to you. I shouldn’t have lashed out.” His shoulders drooped as he compelled himself to look at her. “I’m sorry.” The agony in there was real, and Celeste understood it.
She lowered her head and let out a tight breath. “I’ve been so focused on saving my parents’ home,” she said, her voice proud but also sad. “I was afraid I’d lost sight of the larger struggle. But that house is all I have of them.” Her fixed eyes were in the lights far behind the garden. “I did not mean to compromise our case against Soren.”
Their gazes met, shared remorse, groping their way to each other. They stood in silence for a beat until Caspian held out his hand like an unspoken offer. Celeste hesitated a moment, then interlaced her fingers with his. Heat coursed through them both, mitigating the ache of previous discord. The bitterness faded, if only for a fragile moment.
They spoke low, realizing how important their togetherness still was, even as Soren’s schemes tried to tear them apart. Each understood the precarious place that Caspian held, requiring corporate allies, while Celeste struggled to hold on to her inheritance. But for the first time in days, the sense of purpose they shared felt fresh.
As they turned to go back into the house, Roman materialized in the hallway, clutching a tattered ledger. His eyes glowed with urgency. “I discovered something,” he whispered. “Payroll discrepancies, missing funds — Soren’s fingerprints are all over it.” Breath trembling, he shot the ledger into Caspian’s hands. “The board initiated an internal investigation. This would ruin him if used correctly.”
Caspian and Celeste shared a look of shocked understanding, adrenaline pumping at the thought that this revelation might bring down Soren’s reign much sooner than anticipated. A shudder ran through them both as they trailed Roman into the building, ready for the tectonic shift on the horizon.
In one corner of the mansion’s library, Roman splayed a cluster of printouts on a low table. Above, an ornate chandelier cast shifting patches of light, which gave the room a conspiratorial feel. Celeste and Talia moved in tight, each of their eyes combing through the lines of cryptic text that he had excavated. Shadows danced on their faces, mirroring the gravity of his finding.
Roman pressed at the first page, brow furrowed with fear. “It seems Soren’s making allies of Sterling Price,” he said, lowering his voice. “But 50 per cent of these messages show that they’re also sabotaging each other behind the scenes.” His finger skimmed a highlighted passage. “They are playing one-off deals against each other, where one will break the back on price in the next round.”
Talia’s lips parted in shock. “So it’s Soren controlling Hayes Enterprises — not just Soren. Sterling’s creeping in, too.” She remembered pieces of her father’s cryptic remarks, the shrewd manipulations that once turned him into a lonely wolf. Now it seemed he’d been wrapped up with Soren from the beginning, both men trying to outwit the other. A shiver crept up her spine at the chaotic possibilities of their secret rivalry.
Celeste leaned in, her heart pounding. “It means the company’s under siege from two sides,” she said, contemplating the precarious finances, threatened board votes and Caspian’s inheritance. “They could destroy everything just to take control.” She envisioned a world where both men wreaked havoc without a thought of collateral damage.
Roman nodded gravely, sliding another printout into view. “I was eavesdropping on Sterling, bragging that Soren was planning a disastrous move for the next board meeting. Something that could gut the company from within.” His hand curled on the edge of the table, facing the ledger. “If Soren’s going to be bold enough to do that, we’re running out of time.”
A silence compacted in as Talia moved, arms folded. Her earlier complicity gnawed at her conscience. “We can’t allow them to sink the company,” she added, recalling the staff members who relied on Hayes Enterprises, the legacy her cousin sought to preserve. “Or let them hurt Caspian and Celeste again.”
A grim solidarity washed over their small circle, everyone understanding the stakes. Now, with new evidence of collusion — and betrayal — on both sides, they understood the endgame was fast approaching.” Celeste raked a hand through her hair, desperation climbing. “We have to warn Caspian, shake loose enough evidence to stand up to them before the board meeting,” she said, ignoring the note of tremor in her voice.
Roman and Talia exchanged glances and nodded, drawing themselves up. The mansion’s halls seemed eerily quiet as if they knew ambition slinked behind every closed door. They left the library in silence, each of them overwhelmed by the dread that time was quickly draining from their fingertips.
Echoes of late-night shadows played on Valentina’s mirror as she punched a number — you’ve memorized it, you haven’t dared to use it. She was wearing a satin robe that shone in the muted light of a lamp, her body coiled, waiting. Her pulse pounded in her ears. There was a faint click, and the call was connected. On the other end, a quiet, sultry voice answered with mild surprise.
“So you actually reached out,” the mistress said, the tone of her voice imbued with smug curiosity. Valentina struggled for poise, calling to mind every piece of gossip that had landed work in the hands of this woman who had sent her zest for the talent in Soren’s blaze. “I wanted to talk,” Valentina said, letting the tiniest tremble enter her voice, pretending to be vulnerable. The mistress paused. “Talk about what?” she asked sweetly, pretending not to know the havoc she unleashed.
Valentina swallowed, remembering Caspian’s desolation, Celeste’s threatened home, and the interpellated empire at risk for Soren’s manipulations. “I know you and Soren are close friends. He opens up to you, and you… profit.” She let it hang, picturing the mistress’s deliberate response. Valentina’s mind boiled with rage. However, she needed to sound malleable. “I’m sick of the tension here,” she said softly, which was a lie, “and maybe we can help each other.”
There was a soft laugh on the line. “Help each other? My dear, if you really want help, you’d better know Soren doesn’t take treachery lightly. He’s used to winning.” The mistress’s buoyant confidence, swollen on expensive gifts and Soren’s empty promises, rubbed Valentina the wrong way. Still, she pressed forward.
She teased out a few key details with careful questions, including how Soren funnelled hush money into personal accounts for this lover. One of his slips of the tongue suggested he had previously bragged about having forged documents to seize control of Caspian’s fortune.
Valentina tightened her grip on the phone. And that alone may get Soren buried if done right. But the mistress laughed, telling her not to expect it to be easy. “If he senses your loyalty wavers, he’ll chew you up and spit you out,” she warned.
Valentina hung up, shaking. She dropped the phone, pulses of adrenaline flaring. It had provided her with all the ammunition she would need to blackmail Soren or expose him, and the same was true for that vile creature who shared his bed. But a cold dread curdled in her stomach: Soren’s wrath was going to be formidable. She turned up her gaze to the mirror, watching fear struggle with fury in her own face. Would she really risk it all by bringing this relationship into public view? One wrong move could unleash Soren’s wrath on her and Caspian as well. She rubbed her arms, goosebumps prickling, and understood that time was always an evasive agent of answers—and dawn was edging closer.