Chapter 169

Chapter 169

He smirked, shaking his head, but didn’t argue further, which usually meant he knew I was right.
When lunch ended, we gathered our things and walked toward the elevators together. The hallway buzzed quietly around us, employees offering polite greetings as we passed.

“I’ll walk you down,” he said casually.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, smiling slightly, letting him accompany me anyway. We talked about random things as we walked, mostly harmless topics that drifted between business and family updates, the easy rhythm of conversation we had maintained our entire lives.
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside, turning back toward him. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him in a quick hug, something that had always been natural between us.

“See you tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he replied, returning the hug briefly. “Dinner at home.”
I nodded, stepping back as the doors slid closed.

The moment felt ordinary and comfortable, and I didn’t think twice about it as the elevator descended.
I should have.

The next few days blurred into intense work sessions. The joint venture demanded constant coordination, which meant I spent nearly every afternoon at Thorne Group. Most of the employees welcomed the collaboration, recognizing the benefits Quantum’s expertise brought to their security frameworks.
Camilla, however, seemed to grow increasingly hostile with each passing day.

She never crossed obvious professional lines in public. She remained polite enough in meetings, her tone smooth and calculated, her suggestions framed with false cooperation that masked underlying resistance. It was subtle, but I noticed it. The way she interrupted me slightly more than necessary. The way she redirected conversations to her department’s contributions, even when the discussion had nothing to do with her work.

At first, I ignored it. Corporate environments often carried competitive tension, and I had learned not to take everything personally. But her behavior escalated in smaller, quieter ways that chipped at my patience.
Files would arrive late from her department. Requests for data suddenly required unnecessary approval steps. Emails she copied me on carried passive-aggressive undertones disguised as procedural clarification.

I addressed it professionally, refusing to engage emotionally, yet the friction lingered.
One afternoon, after a particularly long technical review session, I stepped out of the conference room to find a quiet place to review updated encryption protocols. The hallway felt unusually empty, the usual bustle softened by what I guessed was a company-wide meeting on another floor.
I turned a corner, spotting a smaller consultation room at the end of the corridor, its lights dim but operational. Perfect.

I stepped inside, setting my tablet on the table and opening the files. I had barely begun reading when the door opened again.
Camilla walked in, closing the door behind her with deliberate slowness.
I glanced up, mildly surprised but not immediately concerned. “Do you need the room?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she leaned against the door, arms crossing over her chest as she studied me with an expression that felt… sharp. Calculating. Almost cold.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” she said finally.
Her tone held no professionalism now, the smooth corporate polish stripped away to reveal something far less pleasant.

“About the project?” I asked calmly.
She laughed softly, a humorless sound that sent a faint ripple of unease through me.
“No,” she said. “About you.”

I straightened slightly, keeping my expression neutral. “I’m listening.”
She pushed herself off the door, walking slowly toward the table. “You walk in here like you own the place. Like you belong at his side. Like you’re… what, exactly?”
“I’m here representing Quantum,” I replied evenly. “You know that.”
Her lips curled into a tight smile. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

I stayed silent, watching her carefully now.
“Do you honestly think you’re worthy of him?” she asked, her voice dropping into a sharp whisper.
My brows furrowed slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Alexander,” she clarified, as if I had misunderstood. “Do you think you’re worthy of someone like him?”
The question stunned me for a split second, not because of insecurity, but because of its absurdity. I blinked slowly, processing the sudden shift from professional tension to something disturbingly personal.
“He’s my cousin,” I said flatly.

Her eyes flashed with disbelief and irritation. “You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “You cling to him constantly. Lunches. Meetings. Walking around like you belong next to him. You think people don’t notice?”
I felt my pulse quicken, anger stirring beneath my calm exterior. “Our relationship is none of your concern.”

“It is when you’re clearly using him,” she snapped, stepping closer to the table. “You come from nowhere, suddenly positioned to take over Quantum, walking into Thorne like you have every right to stand beside him. It’s obvious what you are.”
I stood slowly, meeting her gaze head-on. “Be very careful with your words.”

“Oh, I am,” she replied coldly. “You’re a gold digger. You latched onto him because of his name, his power, and his future. Girls like you always do,” she spat.
The accusation hit harder than I expected, not because I believed it, but because of how viciously she delivered it. Years of work, training, growth, and sacrifice reduced to a single cruel assumption.
“You have no idea who I am,” I said quietly.

“I know exactly what you are,” she fired back. “Temporary. Replaceable. And when he realizes that, you’ll be gone.”
The room felt smaller suddenly, tension pressing against my chest. I forced myself to remain composed, refusing to give her the emotional reaction she clearly wanted.
“You’re projecting,” I said calmly. “Whatever feelings you have toward Alexander, they’re yours to manage. They have nothing to do with me.”

Her face flushed with fury. “You think you’re better than me?”
“No,” I said simply. “I think I’m secure enough not to tear down another woman to feel important.”
The silence that followed crackled with hostility.

Camilla’s jaw tightened, her hands clenching slightly at her sides as she searched for another verbal strike.
“You’re not worthy of him,” she repeated, her voice low and venomous. “And eventually, he’ll see that.”
Before I could respond, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. Neither of us noticed immediately. I drew in a steady breath, preparing to end the conversation before it escalated further.

“You’re done,” I said firmly. “This conversation ends now. If you have professional concerns, address them through proper channels. Anything else is irrelevant.”
Her eyes darkened, rage simmering beneath her controlled exterior.
“You think he’d choose you over someone who actually understands him?” she asked bitterly.
And that was when the door opened slightly behind her. I didn’t see it.

But Camilla’s expression shifted instantly, her anger freezing mid-breath as her gaze flicked past me toward the entrance.
Confusion tugged at my chest as I turned slowly, following her line of sight. Alexander stood just inside the doorway, his expression unreadable, his posture unnervingly still. And judging by the tension radiating from him, he had heard everything.