Chapter 13 The Dinner Deal
London looked softer through tinted glass - golden lights bleeding into the drizzle, the city humming like it had secrets it would never confess.
Damian sat beside me, phone pressed to his ear, voice low and clipped. I didn't have to hear the words to know they were dangerous ones.
When he finally ended the call, I asked, "Who was that?"
He didn't look at me. "Someone who just learned that Lang's not working alone."
My chest tightened. "Meaning?"
"Meaning the leak came from inside GreenSphere."
The words hit harder than I expected. "Inside?" I turned to face him. "Who?"
He didn't answer - just stared out the window, jaw set. "We'll talk upstairs."
His London penthouse was glass and steel, sharp lines and cold elegance. The kind of place where everything gleamed but nothing felt lived in.
The lights of the city spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making the room look like it was floating above the world.
Damian handed his coat to a staff member and loosened his tie. "Dinner will be up in five minutes."
I frowned. "You already ordered?"
"I always plan ahead."
Of course he did.
He poured two glasses of wine, the kind that probably cost more than my old office rent. "To survival," he said, raising his glass.
I hesitated before clinking mine against his. "To not losing our souls in the process."
His lips curved. "Too late for that."
The meal came - perfectly plated salmon, roasted vegetables, not a thing out of place. But neither of us touched the food. The tension sat heavier than any hunger.
I broke first. "Who leaked it, Damian?"
He watched me for a long moment, then set his glass down. "Marcus didn't act alone. He had help."
"From who?"
His expression shifted - pity, maybe. Regret. "From someone close to you."
My heartbeat stumbled. "Close to me how?"
He reached into his pocket and slid a tablet across the table. A document glowed on the screen - internal GreenSphere memos, timestamped and signed off with a familiar name.
Lydia Hart.
I froze. "That's not possible. Lydia's been with me since the beginning. She wouldn't-"
"She did." His tone was quiet but merciless. "She sent data to Lang's intermediary. Payment hit her account forty-eight hours before the hearing."
I felt the room tilt. Lydia. My assistant. My friend. The woman who once cried when we couldn't afford salaries.
"No," I whispered. "There has to be a mistake."
Damian's gaze softened slightly. "I wish there was."
I pushed back from the table, pacing toward the window. The city blurred beneath me, lights warping in the glass like liquid. "You knew before the hearing, didn't you?"
He said nothing.
I turned sharply. "You knew."
He met my eyes. "And telling you before would've made you reckless. You would've confronted her without proof. I couldn't risk that."
"So you decided for me?"
"I decided for the company."
"The company," I repeated, laughing bitterly. "That's all this is to you."
His jaw clenched. "It's not."
"Then what is it, Damian? Because I can't tell if I'm your partner or your pawn!"
He stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the marble floor. "You think I like this? That I enjoy watching you realize everyone you trust can be bought?"
"You seem awfully calm about it."
"Because if I let myself feel what you're feeling, I'd burn this city to the ground."
The air between us crackled. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then, slowly, he crossed the space, stopping just inches from me.
"You can hate me later," he said quietly. "But right now, you need to hear this - Lydia didn't act alone. She's meeting someone tonight. My people are tracking her."
I blinked, trying to process it. "Meeting who?"
He hesitated. "Lang's dead partner. The one we thought disappeared two years ago."
My breath caught. "That's impossible. He-"
"-was declared missing," Damian finished. "Not dead."
My pulse roared in my ears. This wasn't just corporate sabotage anymore. It was something darker.
He touched my arm - gentle, grounding. "We can still turn this around. But you have to trust me."
I shook my head. "You don't make it easy."
"I'm not supposed to."
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He answered immediately. "Talk."
A pause. His expression darkened. "Where?"
Another silence, then: "Don't lose her."
He ended the call and met my eyes. "They found Lydia. She's at The Glasshouse Hotel."
I swallowed hard. "Then let's go."
He looked surprised. "You're not staying here."
"Try and stop me," I said, grabbing my coat.
The drive across London was fast and silent. Rain streaked the windows, neon signs smearing across the glass like brushstrokes. My mind replayed every conversation I'd ever had with Lydia - every secret, every confidence.
When we reached the hotel, Damian parked in a side alley. "Security's covering the exits. If she runs, she won't get far."
We slipped through the service entrance. The corridor smelled of detergent and rain. Somewhere above, footsteps echoed. Damian's hand brushed my arm, guiding me forward.
We reached a door on the fifth floor. Room 507.
He nodded at his head of security, who stepped aside and swiped the keycard.
The door opened to an empty room.
No - not empty. A laptop still glowed on the table, the screen showing a live video feed. My stomach dropped. It was the hearing room - the one we'd been in hours earlier. Someone had remote access to the building's surveillance system.
"Lydia's been monitoring us," I whispered.
Damian moved closer to the laptop, eyes narrowing. "Not just monitoring. Recording."
He clicked through files - hundreds of clips, each labeled by date and name. And then one file froze us both.
CROSS_GRANT_PRIVATE_FEED.mp4
It was timestamped that same morning.
I clicked it before he could stop me. The video opened - grainy footage from inside Damian's jet. Us. Sitting across from each other. My hand in his. His voice low.
"Relax. It's just air."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"She recorded us," I whispered.
"No," Damian said, his voice sharp. "She sold us."
And then - a sudden click. A message popped up on the screen.
TRANSFER COMPLETE. FILE SENT.
We stared at it in silence. Then Damian's phone buzzed again - a single message from Claudia.
"Turn on the news."
He tapped the link, and the screen filled with chaos - headlines flashing across major networks, the same video of us playing in the corner.
"INSIDE THE MERGER: SECRET AFFAIR BETWEEN CEO AND INVESTOR EXPOSED."
My knees went weak. "They leaked it..."
Damian's eyes were cold steel. "They think this will ruin us."
I turned to him, heart pounding. "Will it?"
His jaw flexed once. "Only if we let it."
But his voice held a darkness I'd never heard before - a promise, or a warning.
And in that moment, watching the city lights flicker across his face, I knew one thing for sure:
The game had changed.