Chapter 17 Suspicion
Kayla’s POV
Maya’s voice rose again for what felt like the hundredth time. “I still don’t understand, Kayla. Why would they do this to you?”
Her frustration echoed across the office, bouncing off the glass walls. Papers were scattered across my desk, the faint hum of the city seeping in through the windows. I’d been pacing for so long, I was beginning to wear a path in the carpet.
“Something doesn’t add up,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. “Not after everything we’ve invested in DreamSpace. The contracts, the designs, the progress reports…none of this makes sense.”
Maya stood near my desk, arms folded tightly, her brows knitted. “You think it’s personal?”
“Everything becomes personal when there’s this much money involved.” I turned sharply to face her. “Did you notice anything odd during the last few board meetings? Any strange comments, side glances, hesitations?”
She shook her head. “No. They all seemed enthusiastic about the partnership. Some even praised the speed of your team’s designs.”
I sighed and sat down, sinking into my chair. The leather creaked softly beneath me. “Then what changed overnight?”
Maya leaned forward. “I’ve been trying to call one of them, but she still won’t pick up.”
“That’s the third one ignoring us,” I said under my breath. “Keep trying, Maya. Someone has to break eventually.”
Maya frowned but obeyed, dialing again. The silence that followed was maddening. After the fourth ring, she sighed, lowering her phone. “Voicemail again.”
“Of course.” I rubbed my hands together, thinking fast. “If they’re avoiding us deliberately, then someone got to them. But who would want to sabotage DreamSpace?”
Maya looked up. “Maybe they were bribed.”
“Bribed?” I repeated, my tone laced with disbelief. “By whom? And for what motive? To ruin my reputation? To steal my designs?”
“It’s possible,” she said softly.
I began pacing again. “If they think they can use my layouts and concepts, they’re mistaken. Every blueprint, every design in DreamSpace is under contractual protection. If they share even a sketch without my consent, I can sue them into the ground.”
A heavy silence filled the room.
I stopped by the window, staring out at the skyline of towering glass buildings glinting under the morning sun. My own reflection stared back at me…calm on the outside, furious within.
Maya’s phone rang suddenly, the sharp tone cutting through the quiet.
She glanced at the screen. “It’s from Channel 14 News.”
My stomach sank. “The journalists?”
“Yes. Probably calling to confirm the live broadcast about the project updates.”
I exhaled, remembering the interview scheduled for later that day. I was supposed to give a live update about the DreamSpace project…an update I no longer had.
Maya hesitated. “Should I—”
“Cancel it,” I said immediately.
She blinked. “But—”
“Cancel it, Maya. I’m not going to stand in front of the cameras and pretend everything’s fine when the deal might already be falling apart.”
She nodded, quickly typing into her phone.
As she worked, I reached for my own phone. My mind was already racing ahead to someone who could help…someone with influence strong enough to pressure the board back into line. There weren’t many people with that kind of power, but I knew one name.
I scrolled through my contacts until I found it: Chairman G.
He was one of the top names in the real estate and property management industry…respected, feared, and connected. More importantly, he’d been my senior back in high school.
We’d spoken casually a few times since I’d risen in the industry, mostly at business events, but I knew he owed me a favor.
I dialed.
The call connected after a few seconds. “Kayla Brookes,” a deep, familiar voice greeted. “It’s been a while.”
“Chairman,” I said, forcing a polite smile even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m sorry to call so abruptly. I have a situation I could really use your help with.”
He chuckled softly. “You sound troubled. What happened?”
“BuildTide pulled out of the DreamSpace collaboration this morning,” I said bluntly. “No explanation, no warning. I suspect someone’s influencing their board, and I can’t afford to lose this project. It’s the biggest my company’s ever handled.”
There was a short pause. Then his tone shifted…measured, thoughtful. “Meet me this evening at the Luminé Restaurant. The exclusive section. We’ll talk.”
Relief washed over me. “Thank you, Chairman. I’ll be there.”
“Good. And Kayla,” he added, “don’t let this shake you. People only try to tear down what threatens them.”
The call ended, leaving a faint echo of his words in my ear.
I lowered the phone and looked up to see Maya watching me expectantly.
“I’m meeting someone who might help,” I said. “Stay here and keep trying the board. I don’t care if it takes all afternoon.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, determination flashing in her eyes.
By evening, I was seated in the private section of Luminé, the kind of luxury restaurant where even the air felt expensive. A grand chandelier glowed above us, its crystals shimmering like liquid diamonds. The room smelled faintly of jasmine and aged wine.
Chairman G arrived moments later, wearing his usual confident smile. He was a tall man with gray streaks in his hair and a calmness that came only from power.
“Kayla Brookes,” he greeted warmly, pulling out the chair opposite me. “You look more accomplished every time I see you.”
I smiled politely. “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”
“Anything for one of my favorite protégés,” he said, signaling the waiter. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
Once the waiter left, I got straight to the point. “Chairman, the DreamSpace project is collapsing. BuildTide withdrew today, without reason or prior notice. They were fine last week, even enthusiastic. Then suddenly, silence. Calls ignored. Emails unanswered.”
He frowned, fingers drumming lightly on the table. “DreamSpace… that’s the major mixed-use estate project, correct?”
“Yes. It was meant to launch next quarter.”
“And you believe someone’s influencing them?”
“I’m almost certain.”
He leaned back in thought. “Well, the board members at BuildTide are… easily persuaded when money or pressure is involved. You’re not the first person to experience this.”
I looked at him hopefully. “Can you talk to them?”
He smiled faintly. “Consider it done. I’ll make a few calls tomorrow. They’ll come back to the table.”
Relief swelled in my chest. “I can’t thank you enough.”
He waved a hand. “You don’t need to. You’ve built something extraordinary, Kayla. People notice that. It threatens the old guard, and they’ll always push back.”
His words lingered with me long after our conversation drifted into lighter topics…industry gossip, mutual acquaintances, a few memories from school.
Eventually, we stood, shaking hands before parting ways.
As I walked toward the exit, the clinking of cutlery and the soft music blended into a dull hum in my ears. My mind was already strategizing…what I’d do if the chairman’s influence didn’t work, who else I could turn to.
But then, just as I reached the end of the hall, I saw a man step away from one of the corner tables.
For a moment, I almost walked past him. But something about his face tugged at a buried memory. The sharp nose, the silver cufflinks, the stiff composur…familiar, too familiar.
Then it clicked.
He’d been Adrian’s lawyer.
The same man who’d handled the contracts during our marriage… and who’d delivered the divorce papers to me four years ago.
My steps faltered. He was here—at the same restaurant, at the same time.
What was he doing here?