Theron was silent. Seething.
The fury in his eyes didn't just simmer it boiled, hissed, threatened to erupt. Every muscle in his jaw twitched, every breath he took was controlled, deliberate. John, standing just a few feet away, could feel the heat radiating off him like a furnace about to blow.
This is going to explode, he thought, a shiver crawling down his spine.
Theron's voice cracked through the tension like a whip.
"Even if that's true, you had no right to cancel a signed agreement..."
"Why so restless, Mr. Drakos?"
Aurora's voice cut in, smooth as silk but laced with venom.
"It's bad for your health."
"You.....!"
The monitor flickered, and a new video started to play.
A man entered Aurora's office—confident, precise. He sat at her desk, typed an email, and sent it.
The subject line: Termination of Partnership Contract.
The timestamp matched. Exactly.
Then the man picked up his phone and made a call.
"Ms. Wilson, I've done what you asked. Don't forget to transfer the agreed amount."
Silence. A heavy, unbearable silence.
And then.....
Mr. Wilson collapsed. Just like that. His legs gave out, body crashing to the floor as secretaries screamed and rushed to him.
Isabella stood frozen, pale as marble. Her lips trembled. Her knees buckled, barely holding her up. It was as if her soul had been yanked out of her body and scattered into the wind.
"Ho… how… did you .... " she gasped.
Aurora took one deliberate step toward her.
Her eyes didn't blaze. They gleamed.
Like a lioness who knew her prey was already cornered, already broken.
"I can also show the entire room who guided you from the shadows," she said, voice low and razor-sharp.
"But I won't. That part... concerns Drakos Corp."
She paused and turned slightly ...her gaze landing squarely on Theron.
"And after what happened now…"
Theron's brows drew together. That gaze—cold, knowing. She was saying more than her words revealed.
"I have no intention of revealing it," Aurora finished.
"Not yet."
Isabella looked like she'd just been buried alive.
Theron's eyes narrowed.
Guided her? From inside Drakos?
His mind reeled.
How dare she play this game... with me?
He had underestimated her. Badly.
He thought she was just another self-righteous CEO with a polished surface and soft insides.
But NO.
What stood before him now was a tactician. Ruthless. Calculated. Precise.
If Aurora hadn't moved as quickly, if she hadn't read the play beneath the surface, Isabella could've destroyed both Adkins and Drakos in one calculated strike.
And yet…
She didn't say everything.
She was holding something back.
Aurora stepped even closer to Isabella now, her shadow spilling over her like the edge of a guillotine.
"Did you think I was just a regular employee?"
Her voice was low, thunderous.
"Someone you could kill and toss aside like garbage when you were done?"
Isabella's breath came in short, panicked bursts.
Aurora leaned in—close enough that Isabella could feel the heat of her presence.
"I'm Aurora."
The name cracked across the room like a lightning bolt.
It wasn't just a name.
It was a declaration.
A warning.
Everyone in the room felt it.
Now they knew. Aurora wasn't just a businesswoman. She wasn't just a CEO.
She was a storm cloaked in silk.
A fire wrapped in silence.
She could be compassionate...yes—but only to those who belonged in her circle. Those who earned her loyalty.
But betray her?
Then you'd meet the version standing in this room.
Ruthless.
Unforgiving.
Unstoppable.
And she had just arrived.
She turned and walked away—slowly, deliberately. The sound of her heels echoed with terrifying finality.
John watched, stunned. His heart was pounding.
She's not just a boss… She's a damn storm.
How does her own secretary survive her pace?
Theron hadn't moved.
But his silence had changed. It wasn't passive. It was strategic.
The storm in him wasn't gone—it had simply gone quiet.
Volcanic.
Aurora walked up to the long conference table, laid two crisp folders down, and leaned in toward Theron.
"These lawsuits," she said smoothly, "are against Drakos Corp. Since Ms. Wilson represents your team, they fall on your company."
She paused—just long enough for the words to sting.
"If you're willing to apologize officially, we'll consider cooperating."
No response.
She leaned in closer—so close their faces nearly touched. But her calm unnerved more than any anger could.
"There are things you'll need from me again," she whispered,
"But I won't involve myself in your company's internal messes... unless you make them my problem."
With that, she straightened up, turned on her heel, and walked toward the door.
Then she paused.
As if remembering something trivial. Insignificant.
She turned back, her eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
"Ah… I forgot one thing."
Everyone froze again.
"Isabella," she said, drawing the name out like poison,
"That project… is it even yours? Or did you steal it from someone else?"
Aurora tilted her head.
"I always had a feeling. The structure, the architectural symmetry... it felt familiar."
She smiled faintly.
"A little too much like Mr. Brown's work. Don't you think?"
She didn't wait for a reply.
She walked out, her heels clicking in rhythm with the silence she'd weaponized.
The room felt like it had just survived an ambush.
Everyone was reeling. Burned. Shattered.
Theron's gaze didn't leave Isabella.
His expression had changed. The rage in his eyes now had a direction. A target just like a predator looks at its prey.
Isabella stood there, shaking.
Lifeless. Empty. As though her very identity had been flayed in front of everyone.
She knew she's done. No way turning back. Her end is near.
Jason blinked, trying to breathe again.
That woman.
That fire.
He didn't just admire her anymore.
He was falling... helplessly, unapologetically, hard.