Chapter 174 Chapter 174

Chapter 174 Chapter 174
Liana’s POV

The first sign of trouble came as a whisper in a boardroom. Within seventy-two hours, it became clear that Z-Core was the target of a hostile takeover. 
The numbers didn’t lie,  a foreign conglomerate, Kovalenko Group, had begun quietly buying up shares, using proxies and subsidiaries to disguise the pattern. By the time the legal team pieced it together, twenty-one percent of Z-Core was already under threat.
The board panicked. Investors called hourly. News outlets caught the scent before she could even prepare a statement.
And through it all, Liana kept her face calm and her voice level.
“Contain the leak,” she ordered. “Freeze all executive trading. I want every acquisition trail mapped in the next six hours.” She didn’t flinch until she was alone.
Z-Core wasn’t just a company, it was her fight, her redemption, her proof that she could build something clean from the ashes Dominic left behind. Losing it now, to men who didn’t care about what it stood for, felt like betrayal all over again and the cruel irony wasn’t lost on her.
There was only one person who could stop Kovalenko. Only one man who knew the old money networks, the offshore partners, the unspoken alliances built through years of cutthroat negotiation.
She stared at his name on her screen for a long time before dialing. When he answered, his voice was calm, softer than she remembered, still carrying that quiet steadiness she’d begun to associate with his therapy updates.
“Liana.”
“Dominic,” she said, keeping her tone professional. “I need your help.”
A pause. Then, the faintest note of surprise. “With?”
“Kovalenko Group is attempting a takeover. They’re buying out our shares through intermediaries. I can fight them legally, but politically… I don’t have the reach. You do.”
Another pause. She could almost hear the thoughts forming behind his silence.
“You realize the irony,” he said finally.
“Trust me,” she murmured, “I taste it every time I breathe.”
That earned a quiet laugh, one that didn’t sting this time.
“What do you need me to do?”
She hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “I want you to negotiate with our major shareholders, convince them to hold. Use your contacts, your leverage, whatever’s left of your old alliances. We need stability until we can secure a counter-bid.”
“Understood,” he said. Then, before she could hang up, “On one condition.”
Her chest tightened. “Dominic….”
He cut her off gently. “Not that kind of condition. I’ll do this as your employee. Nothing more.”
She blinked, unsure she’d heard correctly. “Employee?”
“I’m not coming in as an advisor, or partner, or savior. You’ll give the orders. I’ll follow them. No exceptions.”
“Are you sure?” she asked carefully.
He exhaled. “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”
He arrived the next morning, just before dawn. His hair was shorter, his posture still proud but no longer weaponized.
The staff whispered when they saw him walk through the glass lobby. Some looked nervous, others awed. Liana met him in the boardroom. The air between them hummed with something unspoken.
“You remember where everything is,” she said, gesturing toward the wall of monitors.
“I remember too much,” he replied lightly, taking his seat at the far end of the table. “Let’s start.”
For hours, they worked.
Dominic went through acquisition records with precision, marking names, companies, offshore accounts, tracing ownership chains like a man dismantling a bomb. 
His knowledge was frighteningly, half of it probably gained through deals that would’ve been considered unethical, if not illegal but he didn’t cross those lines now. Every recommendation was clean, transparent, methodical.
“
Liana nodded, scribbling notes. “And if that doesn’t work?”
He looked up at her. “Then we fight fire with containment, not escalation. They’re expecting me to retaliate like I used to, we’ll do the opposite.”
She paused. “We?”
For a moment, his lips twitched in a faint smile. “I said I’m your employee, not your enemy.”
It shouldn’t have meant anything. But it did. By day three, Z-Core began to stabilize. Dominic’s name alone had bought her enough time to rally allies, secure emergency capital, and block Kovalenko’s next acquisition attempt.
Every call he made, every favor he pulled, was measured.  He didn’t bark orders. He asked questions. He listened. 
He deferred to her in every meeting, even when the board looked to him instinctively for leadership. And that, more than any victory, disarmed her.
During one late-night strategy session, she caught him watching her, curious.
“You’ve changed,” she said quietly.
“So have you,” he replied.
“Which of us for the better?”
He smiled faintly. “Maybe both.”
They went back to work but something lingered in the air, a fragile balance between who they were and who they’d become.
The turning point came a week later, during the final shareholders’ vote. Z-Core held the line. Kovalenko’s bid failed. The company survived.
When the results came in, the board erupted in relief and handshakes, applause, cheers that felt hollow to her ears. Because in that moment, she looked at Dominic across the room and saw not victory, but release.
He didn’t gloat. Didn’t even smile. He simply nodded at her, eyes tired but calm, as if to say: It’s done. You did it. After the meeting, he gathered his things quietly.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, following him to the elevator.
“I said I’d help you hold the line,” he said softly. “You don’t need me anymore.”
“Dominic…”
He looked at her, really looked. “You don’t have to thank me. This isn’t about redemption. It’s about doing something right and walking away before I ruin it.”
Her throat tightened. “You won’t ruin it.”
He smiled sadly. “History says otherwise.” The elevator doors opened. He stepped inside, then turned, voice quiet but certain.
“I’m proud of you, Liana. You built something worth saving.”
Later that night, alone in her office, Liana found a note left on her desk. No email this time, it was just paper, folded neatly, handwritten.
She traced the words with her fingertips, tears threatening but never falling. He had kept his promise to help, to follow, to change. And maybe, in doing so, he had finally freed them both.