Sanchez Main building

Sanchez Main building
ZAYN

He appeared to be on the verge of bursting into flames. Rome paced with wild eyes and stiff arms, as if he was unsure of how to use them.

Good. Let him burn. I didn’t need to light the match. His father had already done that.

Still, I made sure he saw the file.

Now, with one leg crossed over the other and my fingers tangled in contemplation, I stood on the edge of the room and watched him. My lips twitched when he turned and caught my gaze.

"You were aware," he charged, his tone as low and piercing as a blade gliding across flesh.

I tilted my head. “Knew what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Zayn.”

I rose slowly. “You’ll have to be more specific. I know a lot of things.”

He scoffed. "You wanted me to find that file.”

Bingo.

Since silence was always more unsettling, I did not reply. He filled it in for me.

“My mother co-owned Calloway Industries. There it is, her signature as plain as day. And somehow, she was erased like she never mattered. Even I was erased. My father turned her company into his own and left me with fucking nothing.”

The final word caused his voice to break with grief and rage. That brittle pain that turned people into monsters or caused them to crumble.

"It must hurt," I whispered.

His lips clenched. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Maybe.” I took a slow step closer. “But I’m not the one who betrayed her, am I?”

He recoiled.

“You want to scream, don’t you?” I continued. “Throw something? Break something? Or maybe… just maybe… you want to fall apart.”

Rome glared at me like I was the enemy. He wasn’t wrong. But he also wasn’t smart enough to keep me out yet.

He declared, "I am not going to ask for your help," as if it were a moral triumph.

I smiled. “Then don’t ask. Just listen.”

He didn’t move, but he didn’t leave either.

"Calloway Industries does not matter to me," I lied with ease. “I care about what happens when the media gets wind of this. When your father finds out you’ve seen that file. You think he won’t strike first?”

Rome was hesitant.

“He’s going to erase you again. Properly this time. Financially. Legally. Publicly. And when that happens, who’s going to protect your sister’s care?”

He was moved by that.

I saw the flicker in his eyes before he looked away, pretending not to hear. He was stubborn. Beautifully stubborn.

"Allow me to assist you," I said, slightly lowering my voice. “Not because you trust me. But because I’m the only one who’s willing to keep your secrets buried long enough for you to fight back.”

At that moment, he turned completely toward me. “Why are you doing this?”

There it was. It was the question he ought to have asked right away.

I stepped closer until there were only inches between us. “You think this is about your heart?” I whispered. “It’s not. I don’t want your love, Rome.”

Silently and cruelly, I leaned in. “I want your ruin.”

He gasped for air. He appeared to have made a grave error by consenting to this marriage for a brief moment, based on the look in his eyes.

Our relationship should have ended five years ago.

“I want to break you in a way no one else can. Slowly. Intimately. And when you finally realize I’m the only one left who hasn’t abandoned you…” I gave a gloomy smile. “You’ll thank me for it.”

He remained motionless and silent, but I could sense the pull. The kind of gravitational shift that meant the next time he fell, it would be into my hands.

Exactly where I wanted him.

That morning, Rome left the house without looking at me.

He simply slipped out as if he were fleeing something without saying anything or slamming the door.

Maybe he was.

I took my time getting ready for work, tugging the cuffs of my shirt, watching the news without sound. I already knew today was going to be unpleasant. My father would make sure of it. He always did. And I wasn’t the kind of son who ever tried to make his days easier.

The driver arrived while I was adjusting my watch. The silver one. The one Rome used to hate. It's been years and I have never gone a day without wearing it. Rome, unfortunately, does not even recall.

We drove in silence.

When I entered the lobby of Sanchez Main Headquarters, I could already feel the eyes. A woman in heels stopped mid-stride. Two men huddled near reception shifted just slightly, pretending not to watch.

I didn’t look at any of them. They weren’t important.

“Mr. Sanchez,” Jenna, my new assistant said the moment I stepped off the elevator. Her expression was anxious. Well, based on her resume, she was never anxious.

I don't know what cams over this good morning.

I despised people who get nervous easily and that's why my last secretary got fired. His nervousness was too much for me.

“Your father… He called an emergency board meeting,” Jenna said breathlessly, and I clicked my tongue. I think I need to change my secretary again.

“Did he.” I didn’t stop walking.

“He’s already in the conference room. The Vice Chairman asked me to let you know.”

I raised a brow at her. “How thoughtful.”

She swallowed, then stepped aside as I walked past.

The boardroom doors were open. That alone told me he wanted a spectacle.

Inside, the directors were seated in a neat semi-circle. Some were tapping their pens. Others were too still. My father sat at the head of the table, calm as a man waiting for his trap to spring.

I walked in and closed the door myself. Slowly and loud enough that no one could ignore it.

“Zayn,” my father said smoothly. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”

“You called a meeting at eight on a Tuesday. You’re lucky I didn’t send a memo declining it.”

Some of the older men laughed uneasily.

He didn’t.

“I thought we should discuss the recent movement of assets under your name.”

“‘We?’” I repeated. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly become democratic.”

“I’ve become cautious,” he said, leaning back. “And when someone shifts over a hundred million in equity across three subsidiary companies in forty-eight hours, the board should be informed.”

I took my seat and crossed my legs. “You’ve been watching my accounts again.”

“This is a family company, Zayn.”

“That’s the problem,” I muttered. “It’s always been a family company. Your family. Not really mine.”

The room shifted. One of the directors coughed lightly. My father’s smile didn’t fade.

“You’re drawing attention,” he said coolly. “The kind we don’t need.”

I looked him dead in the eye. “I am the attention.”

Another silence followed.

I could see the doubt in a few of the board members. They were afraid. Not of me, yet, but of change. Of the fact that I didn’t play by their rules.

“Your decisions affect all of us,” another director cut in.

“No,” I said, eyes still on my father. “My decisions affect him. The rest of you? You’re just collateral.”

“Zayn.” My father became more abrasive.

“CEO Sanchez,” I corrected with a thin smile. “Try not to blur the lines.”

I had become too adept at tuning out the white noise that each director's voice blended into.

My phone then made a loud buzzing sound against the gleaming table. I looked down at a strange number that was flashing on the screen.

I picked up without hesitation, my voice clipped and controlled.
“Mr. Sanchez?”

The voice on the other end was terse and urgent. “Sir, it’s urgent. You’re needed immediately.”

For a moment, I just listened. Something about the tone made my chest tighten in a fun way. Then, almost against my usual stoic nature, a slow, genuine smile crept across my face, a rare crack in the armor.

“Understood. I’m on my way.”

I set the phone down carefully, the polished surface reflecting that faint smile back at me. Rising, I cast a quick glance around the room.

“Gentlemen, I’ll have to excuse myself.”

Although I could sense their curious and irritated gazes, no one dared to interrupt me.

Without another word, I walked out. The rest of the meeting could wait. This call, whatever it was, demanded my full attention.