Chapter 45 Seventeen percent
Lina’s POV
I didn’t sleep. Not properly. Because every time I drifted off, I saw it again, those two red lines. Clear. Unapologetic. Impossible to misread.
By morning, the house was already alive. Phones rang too often. Footsteps moved too quickly to be casual. Doors opened and shut with intention, not routine. The air felt tight, like something had shifted overnight, again.
Something was wrong.
I stood by the window, one hand resting against the cool glass. The other hovered near my stomach before I forced it back to my side.
Don’t start.
The gates outside were busier than usual. More guards. More vehicles pulling in and out.
The empire was moving.
And I was standing here carrying something fragile right in the middle of it.
The bedroom door opened without a knock.
Carlino stepped inside, jacket already on. His face looked carved from stone. He hadn’t slept either. It was easily noticeable.
“Get dressed,” he said.
No greeting. No explanation.
“For what?”
“You’re coming with me.”
I turned toward him fully. “Since when do I attend your war councils?”
Something flickered in his eyes — irritation, maybe. Or concern. It was hard to tell with him.
“Since Kailen decided to make this personal.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did he do?”
Carlino walked further into the room, jaw set. “He hit Veridian.”
Veridian.
The clean side of his empire. The one that made headlines for the right reasons. Solar projects. Offshore wind contracts. Government praise. Investors in tailored suits instead of armed convoys.
“That’s impossible,” I said. “It’s clean.”
“It was.”
The way he said it made my pulse jump.
“What kind of hit?”
“An anonymous leak,” he replied.
“Allegations that our carbon reports are falsified. That we manipulated emission data to secure federal funding.”
My fingers curled slowly into my palm.
“That’s not true.”
“No.”
“But they’re investigating.”
“Yes.”
A government investigation. The words felt heavier than bullets.
“Why am I coming?” I asked.
“They’ll try to use you.”
“How?”
“They’ll suggest instability. Personal distractions. That I’ve lost focus.”
Understanding hit, sharp and ugly.
“They think I make you weak.”
His eyes met mine. Steady.
“No.”
Anger burned through me before fear could take over.
“Then let them look at me,” I said. “I’m not hiding.”
For a second — just a second — something close to approval crossed his face.
“Thirty minutes,” he said.
\~~~
The boardroom didn’t feel like his territory.
There was no dim lighting. No leather. No smoke in the air. Just glass walls, polished wood, glowing screens, and men in expensive suits pretending they weren’t afraid.
But the tension was worse.
Investors lined the table. Partners. Legal counsel. A government liaison patched in on video.
The moment Carlino walked in, the conversation stopped.
I followed half a step behind him.
Eyes shifted to me instantly.
There she is.
The distraction.
The weakness.
Carlino took his seat at the head of the table. I stayed standing for a breath longer than necessary — deliberately — before sitting beside him.
Not behind. Beside.
“We have a serious problem,” one investor began.
“So I’ve been told,” Carlino replied calmly.
“The Environmental Review Board opened a formal inquiry at six this morning. Media outlets have already picked it up.”
A screen lit up.
VERIDIAN UNDER FEDERAL SCRUTINY
EMISSIONS FRAUD ALLEGATIONS
IS THE GREEN GIANT A HOUSE OF CARDS?
My stomach twisted.
“This is coordinated,” Carlino said evenly.
“Based on what?” a woman across the table challenged.
“Timing. The data leak coincides with our expansion into the Western grid. The same contract Kailen’s consortium lost.”
Murmurs rippled across the table.
They knew.
But knowing didn’t make them less afraid.
“Intent doesn’t matter,” another investor snapped. “Perception does. We’re down twelve percent in pre-market.”
Twelve percent.
In hours.
A younger partner leaned forward. “There are already whispers about executive oversight. Personal distractions.”
There it was.
I looked directly at him. “If you have something to say, say it clearly.”
He hesitated. “Instability at the top makes investors nervous.”
“You mean me,” I said.
Silence.
Carlino’s hand brushed the table once — a subtle warning.
But I was tired of shrinking.
“Let’s not pretend,” I continued. “You think I’m a liability.”
No one disagreed.
Fine.
“I’m not a distraction,” I said clearly. “I’m his fiancée.”
The word landed hard.
Carlino turned his head sharply toward me.
Around the table, expressions shifted — surprise, calculation, interest. The weight of what I’d just done settled slowly in my chest.
Why did I say that?
Maybe I was tired of being treated like a temporary mistake. Maybe I wanted them to understand I wasn’t a secret. Or maybe I’d just tied myself to something that was starting to sink.
“That only strengthens our concern,” the woman replied coolly. “Personal entanglements complicate leadership.”
Carlino’s voice turned to ice. “My personal life has nothing to do with Veridian’s compliance metrics.”
“Public opinion disagrees,” she said. “Scandals bleed.”
The screen refreshed.
Fourteen percent.
Someone swore under their breath.
“This company is clean,” Carlino said, leaning forward now. “Every report. Every audit. If Kailen wants a public war, we’ll give him one.”
“And if investors pull out before the war is won?”
A notification chimed.
The woman checked her tablet. Her face changed.
“BlackRidge Capital is suspending its position.”
A ripple moved through the room.
“They can’t do that mid-quarter—”
“They just did.”
Another alert.
“NorthStar is reducing exposure by forty percent.”
The air felt thinner. This wasn’t gunfire.This was suffocation.
“You said this was contained,” someone accused.
“It is,” Carlino replied.
“Does this look contained to you?”
Seventeen percent.
Anger rose in me, sharp and sudden.
“You’re running,” I said quietly.
Heads turned.
“You’re all running before there’s proof of anything.”
“This is business,” one man said stiffly.
“No,” I corrected. “This is panic.”
Carlino didn’t stop me.
“If you believe in the company, stay,” I said. “If you don’t, admit it instead of hiding behind market volatility.”
“Young lady, idealism doesn’t stabilize shares.”
“Neither does cowardice.”
Silence.
Then Carlino spoke.
“Anyone who wants out can leave.”
That was dangerous. Very dangerous.
One investor stood. “Until the investigation concludes, our firm is withdrawing.”
And just like that, the bleeding became real.
Chairs scraped back. Papers gathered. One by one, some of them walked out.
Not all.
But enough.
Each exit felt like a crack spreading through glass.
Carlino didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t argue. Didn’t threaten.
That scared me more than if he had.
When the room finally cleared, only a handful remained. He stood slowly.
“They think this weakens me,” he said quietly.
“It does,” I replied.
His gaze snapped to mine.
“Not because you’re guilty. Because they see fear.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“I know,” I said. “But they are.”
His jaw tightened. “You shouldn’t have spoken.”
“Why? Because now they know I’m not fragile?”
“They’ll target you next.”
“They already are. Through you.”
His phone buzzed. He checked it. His expression darkened.
He turned the screen toward me.
FEDERAL FREEZE POSSIBLE IF DATA IRREGULARITIES CONFIRMED.
Government involvement.
Escalation.
“This is what Kailen wanted,” I whispered.
“A public execution,” Carlino said.
“No,” I corrected softly. “A slow one.”
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes then. Not loud. Not explosive.
Controlled fury.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“Go back to the house.”
“No.”
“Lina.”
“I’m not hiding.”
His stare hardened.
“You’re carrying my future.”
The words hit harder than anything else had today. My breath caught. He didn’t know. But he felt it.
“You don’t get to decide what I can face,” I said carefully.
His hand lifted — not touching me — just hovering near my waist, instinctive..“You think this ends here?” he asked quietly.
“No.”
Outside the glass walls, assistants rushed past. Phones rang. Screens glowed red. The empire wasn’t collapsing. But it was shaking, again.
And somewhere out there, Kailen was watching. Carlino’s voice dropped into something lethal.
“If he wants a public war,” he said, eyes on the falling numbers, “I’ll burn his reputation to the ground.”
I swallowed.
Because public wars never stayed public. And now there was more at stake than just an empire.