Chapter 32 What We Left Behind
The next day, Mark invited me for a private meeting but I was craving something else. When my eyes rested on Jack, I realized that I'd wanted his lips on mine.
But what would that mean for me? For us?
Even though we'd broken the rule, we were still on a freaking contract agreement and I'm not meant to crave him the way I do.
"This is sick." I muttered softly.
"What was that?" Jack asked as he looked up from where he was vetting some files at me.
I bit my lip and looked away. "Uhmm... Nothing. It's nothing."
"You sure?"
I threw him a glance. "Sure."
I've pushed my desires away for weeks, but it was the best thing to do.
I stared down at Mark's neatly worded invitation on my screen longer than necessary but my pulse spiked, not at the thought of Mark's invitation but at the fact that I couldn't think straight anymore.
I slammed my tablet on the table dejectedly, heck, I couldn't even concentrate.
"Are you ok?" Jack straightened himself with his both hands fixed into his trouser pockets and that was when I saw a peek of the tattoos on his chest, all thanks to the few shirt buttons snapped open.
No, I'm not.
I wanted to tell him that but I refrained from it. With everything going on, craving intimacy, especially in this situation of ours, would be considered illegal.
"Yeah, I—I think I just need to use the restroom for a moment." I said quickly as I walked past him.
I walked into the restroom in my office and clicked the door shut in slight frustration. I shouldn't be feeling this way, let alone for someone who rebelled, got married and stamped those rules. Even though broken, but once is enough, right?
No more.
Oh god... This were times I wished I had a vibrator or in liberty to use one.
I went to the mirror and observed my face before I slammed my hands against the porcelain sink.
Torture. Yes, this was torment.
My gaze settled on my reflection. "I'm Elena Vale." I mumbled as is saying it to myself would remind me of who I was. "I should be fine, I'm supposed to be..." I stared down at my hands. "But I'm not fine."
It reminded me of when Daniel and I were still married, he never saw that I was broken, or the fact that I truly loved him despite being broken. He took advantage of me because I was sweet to him and then the thought of being pregnant for him...
"Elena?" Jack knocked once.
I was dragged out of my thoughts as I looked up at my reflection. Then I noticed beads of tears at the corner of my eyes.
Tears? I shouldn't even be this emotional in the first place. So I quickly blinked them back.
"Elena? Are you ok in there?" He asked.
"Uhmm, yeah I'm okay. I'll be right out in a minute!" I said back in the direction of the door.
By the time I stared back at my face, a lone tear had already slid down my cheek. I felt one of too many things.
No, no, no, this is the weak side of me. I thought to myself. I shouldn't even be weak at this crucial time of shadows and familial war. I buried that side of me a long time ago.
So I was able to blink all the tears back and smile.
I walked back into my office and immediately picked up my tablet to read Mark's invite again.
"You sure you're okay?" Jack asked again but I didn't look at him.
"Yes, I'm fine." I said.
I felt a slow, deliberate settling—like pieces of a puzzle clicking into place whether I liked the picture or not.
I almost flinched when Jack leaned over my shoulder, close enough that I could feel his warmth without turning.
He read the message once, then again.
“He wants to talk to you,” he muttered. “Alone.”
“I know.” I muttered softly as I swallowed the lump at the back of my throat.
He straightened slightly. “Will you go?”
I didn’t answer right away. My fingers just hovered over the trackpad, tracing nothing, my thoughts already three steps ahead of the question.
I sighed and finally, I nodded.
“Yes,” I said. “But not for the reason he thinks.”
"Really?"
I nodded slightly as he pulled me flush against him with my back to his chest, I held my breath for a moment before I sighed.
"Hey." He whispered softly and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Tell you what.. I keep thinking about that spontaneous morning that I had you wrapped in my arms..."
I sucked in a breath. "Jack..." Then I turned to look him in the eye. I wanted to express how I wanted it yet again but I shook my head slightly at him. "This thing between us..." A smirk settled on his lips as if knew what I was going to say. "Uhmm, what happened that morning s-should never happen again."
His hands tightened around my waist and my hands were burning up resting on his chest but my eyes never left his lips.
"Then why do you sound unsure when you say that..." He leaned in but I didn't stop him. I wanted to but I couldn't.
"B-Because..." His lips rested on mine immediately and instead of pushing him away, I tugged on his hair to deepen the kiss.
What started slow and menacing escalated into me being pinned up against the wall. But as my hands flew to unbotton his shirt, Richard badged into my office uninvited.
"Shit!" Jack cursed under his breath as we pulled away from each other.
"Woah.. Right when I thought there was no heat in this shard called marriage." Richard looked like he was trying his best to keep his cool.
"Can't you knock?" I breathed out and tried to recollect myself.
"So unprofessional..." Jack mumbled and ran his hand through his hair like he was seconds away from throwing Richard out of my office.
Richard scoffed incredulously. "No, tattoo boy, what is unprofessional is the two of you making out here of all places!"
I ran my hands through my hair as I picked up my tablet intending to finally meet up with Mark.
Now, Jack's eyes glinted with challenge. "Are you suggesting I take my wife somewhere more private?" Jack flexed his arms before standing like a perfectly sculpted god.
Wife. The word sounded possessive but I found myself biting my lower lip at the thought.
Richard had a defined scowl on his face. "You wouldn't dare..."
"Richard... You shouldn't be here, what do you want?" I cut him off as I walked to the door.
I heard Jack chuckle behind me.
Richard looked dejected. "I was hoping to discuss something with you."
I swallowed the lump at the back of my throat. "You and I have nothing to discuss but if you beg to differ, that can wait. I have a meeting right this moment." I said as walked out of my office, slamming the door a little.
The retreat suite was quiet in the way money makes spaces quiet. It was designed to feel temporary—like nothing important was ever meant to happen there. Which, of course, made it perfect for conversations that could change everything.
Mark was already inside when I arrived.
He stood when I entered, smooth and unhurried, a file tucked under one arm, the other hand resting casually in his pocket. He looked… comfortable as if he’d been there before and belonged in rooms like this.
“Thanks for coming,” he said.
“I had time,” I replied, keeping my tone flat and unreadable. I didn’t offer my hand. I didn’t smile.
He didn’t seem offended.
“I thought it might be easier to talk away from the noise,” he said, gesturing toward the table.
I sat, crossing my legs slowly and deliberately. I didn’t speak first because I knew silence has a way of making people reveal more than questions ever do.
Mark hesitated—just a fraction of a second—then placed the file in front of me. “These are my recommendations for the regional pivot. I figured you’d want to see them before the board does.”
I opened it slowly.
The work was… good, maybe too good.
Clean projections, sharp risk assessments, strategic blind spots identified before they became liabilities. He understood Vale Corp in a way that felt invasive, like someone who’d grown up studying its skeleton from the inside.
I looked up at him. “You’re not just here to impress me with numbers.”
A tight smile curved his mouth. “No. But they don’t hurt.”
A beat passed.
The tension between us wasn’t hostile. It wasn’t even competitive. It was something quieter like recognition without confirmation. Two people circling the same truth from opposite ends.
“You’re building something,” I said softly.
“So are you,” he replied.
I closed the file and leaned back in my chair. “And what do you want from me, Mark?”
He didn’t look away not even for a second. “The truth,” he said. “But only when you’re ready to say it.”
My fingers traced the edge of the table, grounding myself. “And until then?”
“I’ll keep showing up.”
He didn’t say it like a threat but like a fact.
And that unsettled me more than anything else.
Back in my office later that afternoon, the quiet felt wrong. Jack and Richard were gone.
I opened my desk drawer absently, reaching for a folder I didn’t remember filing away, and froze. Beneath a stack of quarterly reports sat a small silver package.
There was no name, no tag and no explanation.
A flash drive—My pulse finally reacted then, a sharp thud in my ears as I lifted it. It was heavier than it looked. Someone had placed it there knowing exactly how long it would take me to find it.
I slid the flash drive into my secure laptop and one folder appeared. It was a footage.
Then I hit play.
The timestamp sat in the corner of the screen—four nights ago.
My breath caught on the screen.
Mia.
She stood near the storage archive racks, posture relaxed, movements practiced. She handed over a thin red file to someone standing just out of the light. The camera struggled to focus. The face stayed hidden beneath a hood but the body language didn’t.
The suit cut, height, and the way he shifted his weight.
It was a guy from legal division.
I’d passed him in the halls more times than I could count.
My hand tightened against the edge of the desk until my knuckles ached.
“A web of assholes,” I whispered.
A knock sounded.
Jack.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, his expression already tense. “I found the recordings,” he said.
“I know,” I replied, turning the screen toward him.
He watched in silence, jaw hardening with every second.
“Now we've confirmed that Mia is definitely not alone,” I said quietly. “My father planted her, yes. But someone else is protecting her and feeding her access, making sure she survives scrutiny.”
“And they’re not hiding anymore,” Jack said.
“No,” I agreed. “Because they think they’ve already won.”
The room felt smaller then like the walls were leaning in.
I reached up and touched the locket at my throat—a habit I hadn’t realized I’d kept. “This company,” I said, “was built on secrets. And I’m starting to think I was raised inside one.”
Jack’s voice softened. “I know we’ll untangle it piece by piece.”
I looked at him with exhaustion.
“Then l guess we'll start pulling threads,” I said.
I saw the anxious look on Jack's face but I waved it off with the thought of his kiss.