Chapter 66: Playing the Game Vanessa POV

I leaned back in my office chair, kicking my boots up onto the desk, the leather creaking as I adjusted my weight. The room was quiet, the hum of the air conditioning barely audible over the faint buzz of the city outside. I grabbed a notepad from the drawer, flipping it open with a flick of my wrist, the pages rustling as I settled on a blank one. I picked up a pen, twirling it between my fingers, then started doodling—random lines spiraling into a circle around Sophia’s name.

"Time to play nice," I muttered, tapping the pen against my lips, my eyes narrowing as I circled her name again, the ink bleeding slightly into the paper. I set my boots back on the floor with a soft thud, leaning forward to grab my coffee mug, sipping the lukewarm brew, the bitterness curling my tongue.

I adjusted my scarf, pulling it tighter around my neck, the fabric soft against my skin. "If Victor wants intel, I’ll get it—but on my terms," I said under my breath, flipping the notepad closed and tossing it onto the desk, the pen rolling off with a clatter. I stood, pacing to the window, pushing the blinds aside with my fingers, peering out at the street below—a delivery truck rumbled by, a pigeon flapping off a lamppost.

I turned back, grabbing my phone from the desk, scrolling to Sophia’s number with a quick swipe. I tapped the screen, holding it to my ear, adjusting my scarf again as it rang, my foot tapping against the carpet. "Come on, pick up," I whispered, pacing to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of water and twisting the cap off with a crack.

"Hey, Vanessa," Sophia’s voice came through, wary but clear, a faint clink of dishes in the background.

"Hey, Sophia," I said, forcing a smile into my tone, overly friendly as I took a sip of water, the cold hitting my throat. "Let’s grab coffee—no strings, just a chat."

A pause, then a rustle as she shifted something. "Why now?" she asked, her voice sharp, like she was flipping through papers.

I set the water bottle down, picking up a paperclip and bending it between my fingers. "No reason—just thought we could use a break from all this crap. You pick the place."

Another pause, a sigh on her end. "Fine. The diner on Fifth—tomorrow, noon."

"Perfect," I said, tossing the twisted paperclip onto the desk, my tone bright. "See you then."

I hung up, dropping the phone onto the notepad, my hands brushing through my hair, tugging at the ends. "Step one," I muttered, grabbing my coat from the chair, slipping it on with a quick shrug. I adjusted the collar, smoothing it down, then paced back to the window, my boots clicking softly.

"Ambition’s my game now," I said aloud, picking up a pen again, doodling more circles, my mind racing with how to play Sophia—mask the motives, keep it casual, dig for what Victor needed. I tapped the pen against my chin, muttering, "She’s got something—always has."

I grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, then walked to the door, turning the knob with a twist. I stepped into the hallway, locking it behind me with a click, my phone buzzing in my pocket as I headed for the elevator. I pulled it out, glancing at a text from Lisa—Meeting’s starting. I shoved it back in, pressing the button, the ding sharp as the doors slid open.

Inside, I leaned against the wall, adjusting my scarf again, my fingers fidgeting with the fringe. The elevator jolted down, stopping at the boardroom floor. I stepped out, my boots echoing in the quiet hall, heading for the glass doors, pushing them open with a soft creak.

The board was already gathered, suits murmuring as I slipped into my seat, dropping my bag by my feet. Cummings nodded at me, flipping open a report, his glasses glinting under the lights. "Vanessa, good timing," he said, his pen tapping the table.

I grabbed a water bottle from the tray, twisting the cap off, sipping as I nodded back. "What’s on the agenda?" I asked, leaning forward, my elbows on the table.

"Victor’s latest play," Patel replied, sliding a folder my way, his fingers drumming on the edge. "Argus Corp’s locked in—big move."

I flipped the folder open, skimming the merger details, my pen circling a line about Ethan’s exit. "He’s tying it all up neatly," I said, tossing the pen down, my voice cool.

Cummings adjusted his tie, leaning back. "Neat’s one word for it. We’re doubling down—Sinclair Global’s the powerhouse now."

I nodded, picking up my phone, scrolling through emails under the table, my thumb pausing on a news alert—Argus CEO Ousted. "Ethan’s out completely?" I asked, setting the phone face down, my fingers tapping the folder.

"Completely," Patel confirmed, grabbing a coffee mug and sipping, the steam curling up. "Victor’s spinning it—Ethan’s the fall guy."

I smirked faintly, adjusting my scarf, my hand brushing the fabric. "Smart—keeps the heat off us."

The meeting dragged on, charts flipped, voices droned. I doodled on a corner of the folder, circling Ethan’s name now, my mind drifting back to Sophia. "She’ll crack eventually," I muttered under my breath, my pen scratching harder.

As it wrapped up, I stood, grabbing my bag, slinging it over my shoulder again. Cummings called out, "Vanessa, stick around—Victor wants updates."

"Sure," I said, walking to the door, pushing it open, my boots clicking down the hall. I stopped at the coffee machine, grabbing a cup, pressing the button, the machine whirring as it filled. I sipped, the heat stinging my lips, then turned, heading back, when I overheard two board members whispering near the corner.

"Victor’s next move’s bigger," one said, adjusting his cufflinks, his voice low.

"Sinclair’s not done yet—something dark’s brewing," the other replied, flipping through a phone, his fingers tapping the screen.

I froze, my cup pausing halfway to my mouth, my eyes narrowing as I strained to hear more, suspicion curling in my gut.