Hit back

Hit back
Chad’s POV

I walked out of Trista’s office, my entire body rigid, my fists clenching and unclenching at my
sides. Rage coursed through my veins like wildfire, threatening to consume me whole.
That sight—her tangled up in Leonard’s arms, her lips swollen from his kiss, her body pliant
against him—was burned into my mind like a scar that would never fade.
She hadn’t even looked ashamed.
She hadn’t tried to hide it.
She had embarrassed me.

And worst of all, she had done it in front of him—Leonard.
I could still see the way she had looked at him, her body pressed so close, her lips swollen from
their little tryst before I walked in. That smug bastard had stood there, acting like he owned her,
like I was nothing but an afterthought.
After everything I have done for her?
After all the years I’ve waited?
She thought I was just some jealous, rejected man still nursing an old wound.
She thought she could dismiss me—again? That she could mock me, degrade me, and expect
me to just take it?
Not this time.
Not this time.

She had let me stand there, humiliated, watching as she tangled herself in the very past she
swore she had buried.
I felt the weight of the employees’ stares as I strode through the hallway, my expression
unreadable but my fury simmering just beneath the surface. None of them mattered. None of
them had any clue what had just happened behind those closed doors.
But they would.
Sooner or later, everyone would know exactly who Trista was—what she had done.
And they would see her fall.
On the surface, I looked calm—unbothered, even. But inside, a storm churned, dark and violent,
ready to consume anything in its path.
She humiliated me.
Again.

They looked at Chad Narek and saw the polished businessman, the ambitious investor, the
refined gentleman with a sharp suit and a silver tongue.
But that wasn’t the real me.
I had crawled my way out of nothing. Out of the filth and the grime of a family that never gave a
damn about me. I had built myself from the ground up, learning early that in this world, there
were only two kinds of people—
The powerful.
And the ones waiting to be crushed.
Trista had once belonged to the second group. She had been helpless, vulnerable, looking for
someone to guide her.
And I had been there.
I had helped her.

I had offered her a future, given her everything, and in return, she had spat in my face.
But she had always belonged to me.
She just didn’t know it yet.
And if she thought Leonard Devereux was going to swoop in and save her now, she was dead
wrong.
I would ruin them both.
I clenched my fists as I strode toward the elevator, forcing a slow, measured breath through my
nose. I wouldn’t let her see it, wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing just how deep the
wound cut. But it did.
I reached the elevator, jamming my finger against the button. The doors slid open almost
instantly, and I stepped inside, exhaling sharply as I loosened my tie.
I needed air.
I needed control.

The moment the doors shut, my phone was in my hand.
A familiar voice answered after the first ring.
“Problem?”
Understatement of the damn century.
“She’s still tangled up with him.
” My voice was tight, controlled, but beneath it was a rage I could
barely contain.
A brief pause.
“That complicates things.”I scoffed.
“No, it doesn’t. It just means we push harder.”

The line crackled with silence before the man on the other end finally spoke again.
you want to take this?”
I considered my answer carefully.
Trista had embarrassed me today, but this wasn’t just about that.
This had been brewing for years.
She was supposed to be mine.
I had been patient. I had given her time to see that I was the better choice. That I had always
been the better choice.
But instead, she spat in my face—over and over again.
And now she was back in Leonard’s arms?
I had warned her.
I had given her every chance to do things the easy way.
Now?

Now, I’d take everything from her.
Her business.
Her sense of control.
Her peace.
And when she had nothing left, when she was drowning in the chaos I created, she would finally
understand what it meant to reject me.
I let out a slow breath, gripping the phone tighter.
“We move forward. I don’t care what it takes. I
want her distracted. I want her buried in so many problems that she won’t have time to even
breathe.”
Another pause.
“That’ll cost you.”
Money had never been an issue.
“Name your price.”

A chuckle came through the line.
“Consider it done.”
The call ended, and I leaned against the elevator wall, rolling my shoulders.
Trista had no idea what she’d just done.
Trista thought she had power.
She thought she could reject me, humiliate me, and just move on like I hadn’t built half the damn
empire she now stood on.
She had no idea.
No clue what I was capable of.
Or what I’d already done.

The Beginning of an Empire
I wasn’t always this man.
Once, a long time ago, I was a kid with nothing. A street rat with a last name no one gave a
damn about. I learned early on that the world didn’t hand out kindness—it took, chewed, and
spat you out unless you knew how to take first.
So I learned.
I started small—hustling, dealing, making connections with the right people and breaking the
wrong ones. My hands got dirty, but that was the price of survival.
Then, I met him.
Adrian King.

A man who ruled with fear, who built his empire on blood and loyalty. I worked for him once. I
watched, learned, waited.
Until I didn’t need him anymore.
People thought Adrian just disappeared. That one day, he packed up and left the game behind.
He didn’t.
He just lost.
To me.
And now, the pieces I left behind are crawling out of the shadows, trying to take back what was
never theirs to reclaim.

That’s what Leonard doesn’t understand.
He thinks Adrian King is his biggest problem.
He has no idea.
And by the time she figured it out, it would be too late.

Flashback – The First Rejection
Trista had been standing on the balcony, her arms resting against the railing, her gaze distant.
It had been a private dinner—one I had arranged meticulously. Soft candlelight, the faint scent
of roses in the air, the city stretching out beneath us. It was supposed to be perfect.
She was supposed to say yes.
Instead, when I had reached into my pocket, pulling out the small velvet box, she had taken a
step back.

A small step.
But enough to drive the knife straight into my chest.
“Chad,” she had said softly, almost apologetically.
I had shaken my head, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.
“You don’t have to answerright away.”
She exhaled, looking away.
“It’s not that.”

A coldness settled in my stomach.
“Then what is it?”
She hesitated, then turned to face me fully.
“I don’t see you that way.”
The words had landed like a punch to the gut.
I had laughed, disbelieving.
“What?”
She looked pained.
“Chad, you’re my friend—”
I had stepped closer.
“I don’t want to be your damn friend, Trista.”
Silence stretched between us.

She swallowed hard, her eyes glistening.
“I’m sorry.”
That was the moment everything shifted.
That was the moment I knew.
She would regret this.

Present – The Plan in Motion
I arrived at my office, my mind spinning with every possible move I could make.
The threats had been effective so far, but they weren’t enough.
Trista was stubborn. She wasn’t scared enough yet.
I needed to push harder.
I settled into my chair, steepling my fingers as I went over the next phase of my plan.
The recent threats had rattled her, but she was still standing.
That wouldn’t do.
I needed her desperate. Vulnerable.
And the best way to do that?
Make her believe that everything she had built was slipping through her fingers.
I reached for my phone and dialed a new number.

A woman answered.
“Mr. Callahan.”
I smirked.
“Is everything in place?”
“Just waiting for your signal.”
I leaned back, a satisfied hum escaping my throat.
“Then proceed.”
Trista wouldn’t know what hit her.

Her employees would start questioning her.
Her company’s finances would begin to shake.
And when she finally realized that she was drowning—when she had no one left to turn to—I
would be waiting.
Not to help her.
No.
To watch her fall.
And enjoy every second of it.
Trista’s Weakness
I had spent years studying her.
Every little habit.
Every little fear.

Every weakness she didn’t think anyone saw.
And the biggest one?
She hated feeling powerless.
She had spent so many years proving she could stand on her own, clawing her way to the top.
I was going to take all of that away.
Make her beg.
Make her realize that, in the end, she should have chosen me.
I tapped my fingers against my desk, my mind calculating my next move.
Leonard was an obstacle, but not an immovable one.
The only reason he was back was because of whatever secret Trista was keeping about that
child.

That was something I could use.
I grabbed my phone, dialing another number.
A familiar voice answered.
“You’re calling earlier than expected.”
I smirked.
“I want more information on Leonard. I need something that will make Trista
second-guess his presence in her life.”
A pause.
Then,
“I’ll see what I can dig up.”

I leaned back in my chair, already anticipating the inevitable.
Leonard thought he had won today.
He thought Trista was his again.
But he didn’t understand one crucial thing.
I wasn’t letting her go.
Ever.

The Final Warning
Before I could overthink it, I pulled up a new message on my phone.
My fingers moved swiftly over the keys.
You should have chosen wisely, Trista. You won’t get another chance.
I hit send.
Then, I leaned back and smiled.
The game had only just begun.
And I had every intention of winning.