The breaking point

The breaking point
Chad’s POV

Power wasn’t about brute strength, it is more about mental strength. It is alsoabout
control—about knowing when to strike, when to pull back, and when to make someone think
they still have a choice.
Trista thought she still had power. She thought she could just humiliate me, throw herself at
Leonard the way she wanted, and walk away unscathed.

She had no idea how wrong she was.
I sat at my office desk, fingers steepled, staring at the city skyline. The golden lights flickered in
the distance, a stark contrast to the darkness pooling inside of me. My office was completely
silent, but my mind was anything but.
My rhythmic tapping the only sound in the otherwise silent room.
Trista thought she had won today.
She thought she could disregard me like I was trash.
She thought she could humiliate me, dismiss me like I was nothing.
She was so wrong.

I had spent too many years building myself, too many years crawling through the dirt, bleeding
for my own and well deserved place at the top. I wasn’t about to let some woman—her—strip
me of my power.
But then why the hell was there an ache in my chest?
I clenched my jaw hard, exhaling sharply as I reached for my glass of whiskey. The ice clinked
softly against the sides, a mocking sound in the silence. I downed half of it one gulp, but the
burn in my throat wasn’t still enough to drown out the gnawing doubt creeping into my mind.
For a fraction of a second, an unwelcome thought surfaced in my mimd—What if she was never
meant to be mine?

I slammed the glass down so hard that a crack splintered across its surface. No. That was
definitely weakness talking. That was the voice of every pathetic man who had ever settled for
failure. I an definetely not one of them.
Trista belongs to me.
She just didn’t know it yet.
With time, I will make her realize that fact.
I leaned back in my chair, inhaling deeply. The city lights twinkled below me, so full of life, so
oblivious to the war brewing beneath their glow. I could already see how this who thing would
play out.

She would fight. Of course, she would.
But I would make sure she lost completely.
The plan was already in motion. Trista’s company was about to hit a crisis it would not recover
from—not without me of course. The threats were escalating, the pressure mounting. Soon, she
would be drowning. And when that moment came, I would be the only one left to pull her from
the wreckage.
Her only saviour.
Except I wouldn’t.
Not until she begged me.
I exhaled slowly, reaching for my glass of bourbon. The ice clinked as I swirled the liquid, but I
didn’t take a sip.

Because for the first time in years, something uneasy slithered through me.
Doubt.
It was small, just a whisper, a flicker of hesitation. But it was there.
What if I had already lost her?
The thought sent a sharp, bitter taste rose up my throat. I crushed it immediately, swallowing the
fury that came with it.
No.
Trista belonged to me. She just didn’t see it yet.

But she would, I will make her if I have to.
A sharp knock sounded at my door. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The only man
who dared come here unannounced.
Come in, I said, my voice smooth and controlled, definitely not in contrast with what was going
on in my head.
The door opened, and Marcus stepped inside. He was taller than most, built like a wrecking ball
but with the patience of a man who knew exactly when to strike without missing.
He closed the door behind him. It’s done.
I leaned back in my chair, watching him carefully. How bad?
Marcus smirked. Bad enough to make her sweat. Not enough to make her suspect you.
Good.

Trista’s company was about to face its worst financial blow yet. It would make Investors would
pull out. Clients would hesitate and she would be forced into a corner—one she’d have no way
out of.
Except me.
She will run to me begging.
I should’ve felt satisfaction.
But that unease still clung to me, whispering doubts I didn’t want to hear.
What if she never came around?
What if, after everything, she still chose him?
I gripped the edge of my desk, forcing my nails into the wood. That wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t
let it happen.

Marcus raised a brow. You good?
I let out a slow breath, letting my control settle back into place. I’m Fine.
Then you’ll be happy to know we’ve got more dirt on Leonard.
That caught my interest immediately, I straightened, gesturing for him to continue.
Marcus tossed a file onto my desk.
“He’s been asking questions about Adrian King.”
The name Leonard sent a slow, dangerous smirk across my lips.
Adrian.

The man who used to rule the underworld. The man who thought he was completely
untouchable.
The man I destroyed with my own hands.
Years ago, I had stood in a room much like this one—except back then, I had been the one on
the other side of the power divide.
Adrian King had built his empire on blood and fear. He had ruled over the business world and
the criminal underbelly with an iron grip, never allowing anyone to challenge him.
Until I did.

I had worked for him for years, earning his trust, studying his weaknesses. And when the time
was right, I struck, and struck right.
I had dismantled his network piece by piece. I had made him doubt his own men, he’ll even his
own decisions.
And when he was at his weakest, I delivered the final brital blow.
The last time I saw him, he had been on his knees, a gun pressed to his temple.
He had looked up at me, eyes full of disbelief. You were just a kid when I took you in.
I had smiled. And now I’m the man who took everything from you.
A single gunshot had ended his reign.
And now, years later, the remnants of his empire were stirring again, trying to crawl out of the
shadows.

But they would fail.
Because Chad Narek didn’t lose.
Leonard was actively still digging into the past.
Bad move.
I flipped open the file, scanning the contents. Photos, bank transactions, old records. Leonard
was looking for something—something connected to Adrian.

And if he found out the truth?
I clenched my jaw. No one could know what happened to Adrian. Not yet.
When I haven’t even executed half of my plans.
Find out exactly what he’s after, I ordered, snapping the file shut. If he gets too close—handle
him.
Marcus nodded. Understood.
I dismissed him with a wave of my hand, but as the door shut behind him, that feeling returned.
A gnawing, festering doubt.

I stood abruptly, crossing to the window. The glass was cold beneath my fingertips as I stared
down at the city.
For years, I had been in control. Always three steps ahead of everyone.
So why did this feel… different?
I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. I knew the answer.
Trista.
She wasn’t reacting the way I expected her to.

I had warned her. I had threatened her.
Yet she still chose him.
And it was driving me totally insane.
I reached for my phone, my fingers tightening around it. One message. That’s all it would take to
rattle her.
But before I could type, a memory slammed into me like a punch to the gut.
Flashback – The Day She Slipped Away
Trista’s voice was quiet but firm. I’m not afraid of you, Chad.”

I had laughed at the time, thinking she was bluffing. But there had been something different in
her eyes that day.
Something final.
We had been standing outside her office. I had cornered her, tried to reason with her one last
time.
Leonard left you before, I reminded her gently, stepping closer. You think he won’t do it again?
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t back away. I don’t need Leonard.
I had scoffed. Then what do you need?
Her gaze met mine, unwavering. Peace, just peace.
That was when I knew.

She wasn’t coming back to me.
Not willingly.
The Present –
I sucked in a slow breath,Trying to force the memory back.
That was the moment I had truly lost her.
Not today. Not when she kissed Leonard.
But that day.
The day she stopped fighting me completely.
And for the first time, a cold dread curled around my chest.
Had I already lost the war before it even started?
No.

I shook my head violently. No. That wasn’t possible. I had control. I always had control.
But Trista was slipping through my fingers like sand.
I needed to act.
Now.
I grabbed my phone and dialed a new number.
A familiar voice answered instantly. Yes?
Complete Change of plans, I said, my voice sharp and decisive.
Silence. Then, Go on.
I want Leonard gone. For good.
A slow chuckle. Now you’re talking, consider it done.
I exhaled, feeling the weight of my decision settle in my chest.

No more warnings. No more patience.
Leonard was a problem.
And problems got eliminated.
Trista thrived on control, she always wants to be in complete control, she thrived on stability.
The moment she felt that control slipping away, she would crumble totally .
And when she did, I’d be there to remind her who really owned her fate.
I ended the call, satisfaction settling deep in my bones.
Trista was about to lose everything.
And this time, there would be no Leonard to save her.
Because by the time he figured out what was happening, he’d be gone.
For good.

I reached for my drink, raising it to my lips. The whiskey burned as it went down, but this time,
the fire inside me was still from doubt.
But as I sat back, my heartbeat still thundering in my ears, that small, gnawing voice returned.
Because deep down, I knew.
Even if Leonard was gone…
It wouldn’t change the fact that Trista had already chosen.
And it wasn’t me.
I leaned back in my chair, gripping my glass of bourbon. But before I could take another sip—
Ding.
My phone screen lit up.

A message from Trista, well that was fast.
Didn’t think she’d come begging so soon.
I frowned, unlocking my phone.
Trista: Was this you?
Attached was a news article.
My chest tightened.
I clicked it open.
And for the first time in years, a sliver of uncertainty crept into my spine.