Keep reading—Chapter Two reveals a secret that changes everything.

-7

The deposition footage didn't stay inside the soundproofed walls of Vance & Sterling for long. Within twenty-four hours of the hearing, a confidential copy of the transcript and the unedited CCTV video found its way onto the desk of every major financial news outlet in New York City, as well as the private email inboxes of the senior board members of Kane Global Holdings in London.

The corporate fallout was nuclear.

By Thursday morning, the front pages of The Wall Street Journal, Bloomberg Businessweek, and the financial section of The New York Times featured massive, humiliating headlines: KANE GLOBAL HEIR FACES MULTI-MILLION-DOLLAR LAWSUIT AND CRIMINAL BATTERY CHARGES FOLLOWING EXECUTIVE ASSAULT SCANDAL.

The stock price of Kane Global Holdings plummeted by 4.2% within the first hour of market opening, wiping nearly three hundred million dollars off the company’s valuation before midday. Institutional investors, deeply sensitive to executive volatility and public relations disasters, immediately began calling emergency board meetings to demand Adrian’s immediate suspension.

I sat in my apartment in Astoria, wrapped in a comfortable bathrobe, drinking a cup of coffee while watching a live broadcast of financial analysts tearing Adrian’s leadership credentials to shreds on CNBC.

My phone buzzed against the coffee table. It was an encrypted text message from Marcus Vance.

“The board in London just triggered an emergency executive review. They’ve formally postponed the Blackwell & Reed acquisition vote indefinitely. Furthermore, old man Arthur Kane—Adrian’s father—just flew in from London on a private jet. Word is, he’s stripping Adrian of his executive vice presidency before the criminal battery charges even hit the docket.”

I stared at the screen, a slow, vindictive smile spreading across my face.

Adrian Kane had spent his entire life hiding behind his family name, his billions of dollars, and his icy corporate intimidation, believing he could treat human beings like disposable objects. He had tried to crush me into the pavement of a dirty alleyway, thinking I was too weak and powerless to fight back.

Now, the empire he was destined to inherit was actively crumbling beneath his feet, and the man who had slapped me in a hallway was discovering that absolute power was a very fragile thing when exposed to the light of accountability.

My phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't Marcus.

It was an unknown, restricted number.

I let it ring three times before swiping my thumb across the screen and pressing it to my ear. I didn't say a word. I simply waited.

"Elena," a voice breathed through the speaker.

It wasn't confident. It wasn't smooth. It was ragged, hollow, and thick with a desperate, burning fury that had been stripped of all its polished corporate armor.

It was Adrian.

"How did you get this number, Mr. Kane?" I asked, my voice cold, calm, and level as a sheet of glass. "I believe my legal counsel instructed you that all communications must go through formal channels."

"Drop the lawsuit, Elena," Adrian snarled, his voice cracking with unmasked desperation. "Name your price. A million? Five million? Ten million dollars? I’ll wire it to an offshore account of your choice before the end of the day. Just sign the nondisclosure agreement, withdraw the criminal charges, and tell the board the video was a deepfake."

I let out a quiet, cold laugh that made the silence on the other end of the line stretch into an uncomfortable vacuum.

"You still don't get it, do you, Adrian?" I asked, leaning back against the sofa cushions. "You think everything in this world has a price tag. You think you can buy your way out of a crime just by throwing money at the victim."

"You don't understand what my father is going to do to me!" Adrian yelled, his voice pitching up into hysteria. "He’s going to strip me of my title, cut me out of the family trust, and hand Kane Global over to my cousin! My entire life is ruined!"

"Your life isn't ruined, Adrian. You're just finally experiencing the real world—the one where actions have consequences and people aren't pawns on your personal chessboard," I said, every word dropping like a sledgehammer. "See you in court, Mr. Kane."

Click.

I terminated the call, blocked the number, and tossed my phone onto the coffee table.

Across the living room, Mia was sitting on the carpet coloring in a picture book, looking up at me with her big, innocent eyes.

"Mommy, are we still going to the park later?" she asked brightly.