Elena met Damian Black at a rooftop bar reserved for the city's most elite.
He hadn't changed—still dressed in tailored charcoal suits, his aura oozing danger and confidence. But there was something else in his eyes now—a grudging respect.
"Long time no see," Damian said, lifting his glass. "I never expected you to come."
Elena sipped her wine. "Neither did I. But you mentioned Adrian."
Damian leaned forward. "Rivera Group is weak at the core. Adrian's vision is outdated. The company needs innovation—your kind of innovation."
She laughed softly. "So this is a recruitment pitch?"
"No," Damian said, lowering his voice. "It's an alliance proposal. You want to win. I want to see him fall. We can help each other."
Elena's fingers tightened slightly around her glass.
"You know I don't trust you."
"You don't need to," Damian replied smoothly. "Just trust your desire for power."
⸻
The next morning, Elena entered her office to find her department in chaos.
Claire tossed a design draft onto the table.
"Your proposal? The client rejected it."
"I haven't even submitted mine yet," Elena said coldly.
Claire smirked. "Then who submitted this?"
Elena scanned the draft—it was hers. But someone had sabotaged the presentation, changing key elements to make it look amateurish.
Sabotage.
⸻
That night, Elena stared at her vision board filled with sketches and concepts. Her phone buzzed.
Damian: Still think I'm not useful to have around?
She didn't reply.
But she didn't delete the message either.