Chapter 27
The rain pattered steadily against the hospital window as Emma flipped through the latest batch of documents Thomas had brought her. Her hospital room was no longer just a place of recovery—it had become a war room, with papers and charts strewn across every surface. Thomas sat across from her, his laptop open and fingers tapping methodically on the keys.
“These are the most recent financial reports I could get,” Thomas said, glancing up briefly. “Luka’s shell companies are tied to three new accounts. They’re likely being used to funnel bribes to Barrett board members.”
Emma’s hands clenched around the paper she was holding. The numbers blurred for a moment before coming into sharp focus.
“He’s already got them in his pocket,” she said, her tone hardening. “If the board sides with him completely, I won’t just lose the company—I’ll lose any chance of clearing my name.”
Thomas leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “That’s why we’re going to cut him off at the knees. If we expose how deeply he’s infiltrated Barrett Industries, he’ll lose his leverage—and his reputation.”
Emma’s chest tightened. The stakes had never been higher. Every move they made now felt like walking a razor’s edge, and the fear for her unborn twins pressed heavily against her already frayed nerves. She tried to focus on the numbers in front of her, but her mind was spinning, clouded with too many what-ifs.
Thomas noticed the hesitation in her movements, the way her fingers faltered over the papers. He straightened, his tone softening just enough to break through her rising panic.
“Emma,” he said quietly, his eyes locking onto hers. “We’ll see this through. No matter what it takes, we’ll take him down. You have my word.”
The conviction in his voice pulled her from the brink. She looked up at him, meeting his steady gaze. For a moment, the chaos receded, and a warmth spread through her chest, fleeting but grounding.
“Thank you, Thomas,” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly.
A flicker of something unspoken passed between them, heavy and charged. It wasn’t just gratitude—it was a fragile connection forged in the crucible of crisis. Emma felt it, but she quickly turned her attention back to the documents, willing herself to push it aside.
She couldn’t afford distractions—not now, not when so much was at stake.
But Thomas didn’t look away. His gaze lingered, studying the lines of tension etched into her face, the quiet determination that hadn’t wavered even as her world crumbled around her. He admired her strength, but it was the vulnerability beneath it that pulled at something deeper in him—a need to protect her, to shield her from the storm threatening to swallow her whole.
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the relentless patter of rain and the faint hum of his laptop.
A few hours later, Emma and Thomas were making progress. Using Thomas’s resources, they had identified several key players within Barrett Industries who had been quietly aligning themselves with Luka.
“These are the weak links,” Thomas said, pointing to a list of names. “If we can neutralize their influence, it’ll weaken Luka’s hold on the board.”
Emma studied the list, her brow furrowing. “And how do we do that? Most of these people won’t listen to me—especially not now, with the media painting me as a villain.”
Thomas leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “We don’t need to convince them. We just need to expose them. Luka’s not as untouchable as he thinks he is. If we dig deep enough, we’ll find something that forces them to distance themselves from him.”
Emma nodded slowly. “And what about the board itself? Are there any allies left there?”
“A few,” Thomas admitted. “But they’re waiting to see how this plays out before they pick a side. If we show them Luka’s vulnerability, we might be able to sway them.”
As the day wore on, Emma found herself leaning more and more on Thomas. His strategic mind and unshakable confidence gave her a sense of stability she hadn’t felt in weeks.
“You really believe we can do this?” she asked at one point, her voice tinged with doubt.
Thomas met her gaze, his expression unwavering. “I don’t just believe it, Emma. I know it. You’re stronger than they realize, and that’s going to be their downfall.”
Emma felt a flicker of warmth at his words, though she quickly pushed it aside. There was no room for anything but survival right now.
* * *
Across town, Alex Barrett stood at the towering floor-to-ceiling windows of his corner office, the gray, rain-slicked cityscape stretching out before him. The steady drizzle blurred the skyline, a distorted reflection of the turmoil inside him. His own faint reflection stared back from the glass—a man he barely recognized anymore. His shoulders were stiff, his tie loosened, and his expression shadowed by exhaustion and regret.
The sharp click of heels echoed through the hallway outside his office. He turned, frowning, just as his assistant appeared in the doorway, looking frazzled.
“Mr. Barrett,” she said hesitantly, glancing over her shoulder. “Ms. Sophia Diaz is here to see you. I tried to—”
“Thank you,” Sophia said curtly to the assistant, brushed past her, sweeping into the office with a confidence that filled the space. She was dressed to kill, her crimson dress tailored perfectly, her lips painted the same dangerous shade. She didn’t wait for an invitation, closing the door behind her with a deliberate click.
Alex’s jaw clenched. “Sophia, I don’t have time for this—”
“You don’t have time for me, you mean,” she interrupted, her tone sharp but calculated. She strode toward him, her crimson dress hugging her figure perfectly, her heels clicking against the floor. She stopped a few feet from him, her lips curling into a confident smile. “We need to talk, Alex.”
Alex’s jaw tightened as he took her in, his exhaustion giving way to irritation. “This isn’t a good time,” he said flatly, his voice cold.
“You’re ignoring me.” Her voice came sharp and immediate, slicing through any pretense of civility.
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose, his weariness deepening. “I’ve been busy, Sophia. You know that.”
“Busy?” she snapped, her tone biting. “You haven’t answered a single one of my messages. Do you think I’ll just disappear if you ignore me?”
Alex closed his eyes for a brief moment, willing himself to stay calm. “I don’t think that, and you know it. But things are complicated right now.”
“Complicated,” Sophia repeated, her voice dripping with disdain. “What I know is that I’m carrying your child, and you’re treating me like I’m some embarrassing mistake. Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me?”
His grip tightened, his knuckles whitening. He wanted to tell her he didn’t believe her, that he knew this was another move in Luka’s twisted game. But guilt held his tongue. He had slept with Sophia during one of his darkest, weakest moments—a mistake he couldn’t take back, no matter how much he wanted to.
He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This situation is complicated. I am ready to take care of you and the child, but there’s nothing else to discuss.”
“Nothing to discuss?” Her voice rose, her mask of control slipping slightly. “I’m carrying your child, Alex. You can’t just push me aside like some inconvenient problem!”
“I told you I’d take responsibility for the child.” Alex turned to face her fully, his expression cold. “You and the baby will be provided for. But don’t expect anything more from me.”
“We could make this work, Alex.” Sophia stepped closer, her voice softening, though the edge of manipulation remained. “I know things are a mess right now, but we had something once—something real. I know you felt it, too.”
“No,” Alex said firmly, his voice cutting through the air like steel. “What happened between us was a mistake. I was at my lowest, and you took advantage of that. I won’t let it happen again.”
Sophia’s eyes narrowed, her voice turning icy. “You’re clinging to Emma, aren’t you? Still hoping she’ll take you back, even though you’ve destroyed everything you had with her?”
Alex flinched, the truth of her words hitting harder than he wanted to admit. The mention of Emma hit like a blow, his chest tightening, but Sophia kept countered, her tone vicious.
“Still deluding yourself into thinking there’s nothing left to save. Meanwhile, she’s probably halfway into Thomas Hamilton’s bed by now.”
The words landed like a punch to the gut. Alex’s free hand clenched into a fist, his jaw locking as he fought the wave of anger and jealousy threatening to consume him. He had seen the photos—the ones of Emma and Thomas together in her hospital room. Thomas leaned over her with an easy, comforting smile. Emma… relaxed in a way Alex hadn’t seen in more than a month.
It shouldn’t have bothered him. He had told himself over and over that he was doing the right thing, that keeping his distance was for her protection. But the thought of her finding solace in someone else, of her confiding in Thomas the way she used to confide in him, twisted a knife in his chest.
Alex’s chest tightened, but his resolve didn’t waver. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “What I feel for Emma isn’t a fantasy. And I won’t let you or Luka use this situation to manipulate me.”
Sophia’s expression hardened, the glint of triumph in her eyes dimming. She turned on her heel, pausing at the door to glance back at him. “You’re making a mistake, Alex. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The door closed with a sharp click, leaving Alex alone with the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He sank into his chair, his fists clenched as he stared blankly at the rain-soaked skyline.
I’ve made too many mistakes already, he thought grimly. I can’t let Sophia be another one.
As the door clicked shut behind Sophia, Alex stood frozen, her venomous words replaying in his mind. His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as a wave of anger and dread washed over him. He hated her smug confidence, her ability to exploit his lowest moment.
Emma…
The room felt too quiet, the air too heavy. His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions—guilt over his mistakes, fury at Sophia’s manipulations, and a gnawing ache for Emma that refused to go away.
Turning back to the window, Alex pressed his forehead against the cool glass, closing his eyes. Rain continued to streak down the panes, mirroring the chaos swirling inside him.
He couldn’t shake the image of Emma with Thomas—the easy closeness they seemed to share now. It wasn’t just the photos; it was the thought that Thomas was there for her in ways Alex no longer could be.
Jealousy wasn’t an emotion he wore well, but it was impossible to ignore the pang that struck him every time he thought of Emma and Thomas together.
But it wasn’t just jealousy—it was guilt. He had failed to protect Emma when she needed him most. Instead of standing by her, he had let his own fears and insecurities drive a wedge between them.
He rubbed his temples, the weight of Luka’s blackmail pressing down on him. The memory of the Buenos Aires fire was always there, lurking in the back of his mind. Luka had been using it as leverage for years, and now it felt like a noose tightening around his neck.
Alex sat in the dim glow of his office, the storm outside matching the chaos within. His phone lay in his hand, and despite himself, he found his thumb instinctively scrolling through more photos of Emma and Thomas. Each image felt like a dagger, twisting deeper into his chest.
There she was, leaning on Thomas, her guard lowered in a way Alex hadn’t seen in months. Thomas’s hand resting lightly on hers, his smile warm and reassuring. Alex’s jaw tightened. He hated how seamlessly Thomas had stepped into the role Alex had once held—the protector, the confidant.
But the bitterness wasn’t only directed outward. Alex loathed himself for letting things fall apart. His choices, his fear of Luka’s threats, had pushed Emma further away. And now, Thomas was there, filling the void Alex had left behind.
By the time the evening’s shadows deepened, Alex knew he couldn’t let this continue. Luka’s control over him was a noose tightening with every day he hesitated. Worse still, Emma was fighting this battle on her own, a battle she shouldn’t have had to face alone.
He clenched his fists, his resolve hardening.
It’s time to take back control. For her. For us.
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