The days following her confrontation with Lucien were excruciating in their careful normalcy. They maintained perfect professional distance at the office—polite emails, formal meetings, no personal conversations beyond what was absolutely necessary. To anyone watching, they were simply a CEO and his executive assistant conducting business with admirable efficiency.
But beneath the surface, everything had changed.
Ava could feel the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on her every moment she spent in his presence. The knowledge that her father had been murdered, that Lucien's family was responsible, that she was trapped between seeking justice and protecting her mother created a constant, suffocating tension that made it hard to breathe.
She'd agreed to stay—what choice did she have?—but the gilded cage that had once felt merely confining now felt actively malicious. Every luxury he'd provided felt like blood money. Every professional courtesy felt like manipulation. Every moment of apparent kindness was tainted by the knowledge that it was built on her father's grave.
And Lucien seemed to feel it too. She caught him watching her sometimes with an expression that looked like grief, as if he'd known that revealing the truth would destroy whatever fragile connection had been growing between them. But he said nothing, did nothing, just maintained the professional distance they'd both agreed was necessary.
The email arrived on Thursday afternoon, marked urgent and sent from a personal account she didn't recognize at first:
Miss Lane,
We met briefly at the gala last month, though I'm not sure we were formally introduced. My name is Alexander Vance, and I believe we have a mutual interest in understanding the true nature of Lucien Drake and his family's business practices.
I knew your father. David Lane was a brilliant man and a good friend. What happened to him and to Drake Industries was not an accident or a simple business failure. I have information about the circumstances of his death—information that I believe you deserve to know.
I understand this message must seem suspicious, particularly coming from someone you barely know. But I promise you, my intentions are sincere. I've been investigating the Drake family for years, trying to gather enough evidence to expose what Richard Drake did. Now that his son has followed in his footsteps, I believe it's time for the truth to come out.
If you're interested in learning what really happened to your father, meet me at The Landmark Tavern tomorrow at 6 PM. Come alone. And please, be careful. The Drake family has a long history of silencing people who ask too many questions.
Sincerely,
Alexander Vance
Ava read the email three times, her heart hammering with a mixture of hope and suspicion. Alexander Vance—the charming rival CEO who'd flirted with her at their first meeting, who'd sent her an expensive necklace that had triggered Lucien's jealous rage, who'd been mysteriously absent from their business circles since that incident.
Now he was claiming to have information about her father. Information about circumstances that even Lucien had been reluctant to fully reveal.
It was obviously a trap. Every instinct she'd developed from months of navigating Lucien's manipulations screamed that this was too convenient, too perfectly timed, too suspicious to be genuine. Alexander Vance was a competitor with his own agenda, and whatever information he claimed to have was probably designed to serve his business interests rather than provide her with closure.
But what if it wasn't? What if he really had known her father, really had evidence about what had happened twenty years ago? What if he could provide answers that Lucien refused to give?
She shouldn't go. She knew she shouldn't go. Meeting a rival CEO in secret to discuss information about her father was exactly the kind of thing Lucien had warned her against, exactly the kind of situation that could be used to hurt her or manipulate her or destroy what little stability she'd managed to maintain.
But the alternative was accepting Lucien's version of events—carefully curated, strategically edited, designed to protect his family's reputation and keep her compliant. Was living with half-truths and controlled information really better than taking a risk to learn the whole story?
Ava stared at the email for a long moment, weighing impossible choices. Then she hit reply:
Mr. Vance,
I'll be there.
-Ava Lane
She sent the message before she could second-guess herself, before rationality could override her desperate need for answers. Then she sat back in her chair and tried to control her breathing while her heart raced with a mixture of fear and determination.
The tracking app was disabled—Lucien had kept his promise about that. But she remembered what he'd said about monitoring company communications for security purposes. Was her personal email account included in that surveillance? Would he know about this meeting before she'd even left the office?
Part of her hoped he would. Part of her wanted him to intervene, to stop her from making what might be a terrible mistake, to prove that his protection was about her safety rather than just controlling information. But another part—the part that had been systematically stripped of autonomy for months—hoped he wouldn't find out. Hoped she could make this one decision entirely on her own, regardless of the consequences.
The rest of the day passed with agonizing slowness. Ava went through the motions of her work, attending meetings and responding to emails while her mind raced with questions about what Alexander Vance might reveal. Did he really know something about her father's death? Or was this just an elaborate scheme to use her against Lucien?
She caught Lucien watching her during their afternoon meeting about the Patterson Industries merger. His dark eyes studied her face with uncomfortable intensity, as if he could sense that something had changed, that she was planning something he wouldn't approve of. But he said nothing, just continued with his presentation about market strategies and acquisition timelines while she took notes and tried to look professionally engaged.
When 5 PM finally arrived, Ava gathered her things with calculated casualness. Several of her colleagues were also leaving, the usual exodus of people heading home after a long week. She slipped into the elevator with a group from accounting, nodding politely as they discussed weekend plans.
The Landmark Tavern was only a few blocks away—close enough to walk, far enough to feel like deliberate distance from the office. It was an old bar, established in the 1860s, with the kind of worn elegance that spoke of history and discretion. The perfect place for a clandestine meeting, which should have been another warning sign.
But Ava walked through the door anyway, driven by a need for answers that outweighed her sense of self-preservation.
The interior was dimly lit and relatively quiet for early evening, with dark wood paneling and vintage photographs that gave it the atmosphere of a place where secrets could be shared safely. She scanned the room and spotted Alexander Vance at a corner booth, looking relaxed and approachable in casual business attire that somehow made him seem more trustworthy than Lucien's usual intimidating perfection.
He stood when he saw her, his expression genuinely warm. "Miss Lane. Thank you for coming. I know this must seem strange."
"It seems like a trap," she said bluntly, sliding into the booth across from him.
His laugh was surprised but appreciative. "Fair enough. I suppose from your perspective, meeting a rival CEO who's had conflicts with Lucien Drake does look suspicious."
"Conflicts is putting it mildly. He destroyed the necklace you sent me and threatened consequences if you ever contacted me again."
"He did, did he?" Alexander's smile turned knowing. "That sounds like Lucien. He's always been... possessive of things he considers his."
The casual way he said it made Ava's jaw tighten. "I'm not his possession."
"Aren't you?" Alexander gestured to the server for two drinks before turning his attention back to her. "You work for him, live in an apartment he pays for, have your entire life structured around his schedule and preferences. What would you call that if not possession?"
"Complicated," Ava replied, not wanting to get into the details of her arrangement with Lucien. "But you didn't ask me here to discuss my employment situation. You said you had information about my father."
Alexander's expression sobered. "I do. But first, you need to understand the context. Your father and I weren't just colleagues—we were friends. Close friends. I was one of the investors in Drake Industries, and I watched Richard Drake systematically destroy the company and David's reputation."
"You were there?" Ava leaned forward, her heart hammering. "You saw what happened?"
"I saw enough." His green eyes held genuine pain. "I saw Richard take credit for your father's innovations. I saw him make promises to investors that the technology couldn't keep, then blame David when those promises failed. I saw him slowly, methodically destroy a good man's reputation to protect his own."
"And my father's death?" The question came out as barely a whisper.
Alexander was quiet for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "The official report said it was an accident. Brake failure due to poor maintenance. But David was meticulous about his car—it was one of the few things he could control in his life at that point. The timing was... convenient for Richard Drake."
"Lucien has a private investigator's report that suggests the brake line was deliberately cut," Ava said, watching his reaction carefully.
Alexander's eyebrows rose. "So he knows. I wondered if Richard had told him before he died, or if Lucien had figured it out on his own."
"He figured it out years ago. Commissioned an investigation when he was twenty-five."
"And did nothing with the information." Alexander's voice carried an edge of disgust. "That's very Drake of him. Gather evidence, keep it carefully filed away, use it when it's strategically advantageous but never for anything as messy as justice."
The assessment was harsh but not inaccurate. Ava had wondered the same thing—why had Lucien spent years knowing his father was probably a murderer without pursuing any kind of justice or accountability?
"He says the statute of limitations has expired for everything except murder, and there isn't enough evidence to pursue that charge," she said.
"Convenient excuse." Alexander took a sip of the drink that had arrived. "The truth is, exposing his father's crimes would undermine the foundation of Drake Enterprises. The company was built on innovations Richard Drake stole from your father. If that became public knowledge, every patent, every product, every aspect of Lucien's empire would be open to legal challenges."
The implication hit her like a physical blow. "So he's protecting his business interests."
"He's protecting his legacy. Just like his father did." Alexander leaned forward, his expression intense. "That's what the Drake family does, Ava. They destroy people to protect their own interests, then convince themselves it's justified by business necessity or financial reality or whatever rationalization lets them sleep at night."
"And what are you protecting?" Ava asked, cutting through his righteous anger with the question that had been nagging at her since she'd received his email. "Why do you care about what happened to my father twenty years ago? What's your agenda in all this?"
He smiled, but there was respect in it rather than offense. "You're smart. Lucien chose well, even if his reasons were complicated."
"Answer the question."
"My agenda is simple—I want to destroy Drake Enterprises the way Richard Drake destroyed your father. Not through murder or fraud, but through legitimate business competition and public exposure of their corrupt foundations." His green eyes held hers steadily. "I can't bring your father back, Ava. But I can make sure that his innovations are properly credited, that the truth about how Richard Drake built his empire comes to light, and that Lucien Drake faces consequences for continuing his father's legacy of manipulation and control."
"Using me as your weapon."
"Using the truth as my weapon," he corrected. "You just happen to be the person with the most direct connection to that truth. The daughter of the man who was destroyed by Richard Drake, now working for his son. It's a powerful narrative."
The casual way he discussed using her father's death and her current situation as a "narrative" made Ava's stomach turn. Alexander Vance might have better intentions than Lucien—might even genuinely want justice for her father—but he was still trying to manipulate her for his own purposes.
"What do you want from me?" she asked bluntly.
"Information. Evidence. Your testimony about how Lucien Drake has continued his father's patterns of manipulation and control." He pulled out a folder—eerily similar to the one Lucien had shown her—and slid it across the table. "This contains everything I've been able to gather about Drake Industries, about the circumstances of your father's death, about the connections between Richard Drake's business practices and his son's current methods. I think you'll find it... illuminating."
Ava stared at the folder without touching it, aware that taking it would be crossing a line she couldn't uncross. Right now, she could claim she'd just come to listen, to hear what Alexander had to say. But if she took that folder, if she started actively gathering evidence against Lucien, she would be declaring herself an enemy rather than just a conflicted employee.
"Why should I trust you?" she asked. "You're Lucien's business rival. Everything you've told me could be calculated to turn me against him for your own benefit."
"You shouldn't trust me," Alexander agreed readily. "You should verify everything I've told you. Research the claims, check the sources, talk to other people who knew your father. I'm not asking for blind faith, Ava—I'm asking you to look at the evidence and decide for yourself what's true."
It was a compelling argument. But Ava had spent months being manipulated by a master, and she recognized the techniques even when they were wrapped in apparent reasonableness.
"And if I don't help you? If I decide that pursuing this would hurt my mother's medical care or put me in danger?"
"Then I'll respect your decision and pursue my business objectives through other channels." His expression was sincere, but she couldn't tell if it was genuine sincerity or just well-practiced. "But I thought you deserved to know the truth about your father. Whether you choose to do anything with that information is entirely up to you."
Ava looked at the folder lying on the table between them, then up at Alexander's earnest green eyes, then around the dimly lit bar where they sat having a conversation that could change everything about her life.
She thought about Lucien's warning to let the past stay buried. About his fear that the full truth would destroy what little they had left. About the way he'd threatened her mother's medical care to keep her compliant, just like his father had used her father's reputation to maintain control.
And she thought about her father—brilliant, principled David Lane who'd been destroyed by a business partner he'd trusted, who'd died under suspicious circumstances, whose innovations had been stolen and repackaged as someone else's genius.
She reached out and took the folder.
"I'll look at your evidence," she said quietly. "But I'm not promising anything beyond that. If this is just an elaborate scheme to use me against Lucien, I'll walk away."
"That's all I'm asking." Alexander's smile was warm, genuine, and somehow that made her more nervous than if he'd been obviously predatory. "Read it carefully. Check every source. And when you're ready to talk about what you've found, I'll be available."
He slid a business card across the table—not the company card he'd tried to give her at their first meeting, but a personal card with just a phone number and email address.
"This is my private contact information. Not monitored by corporate systems, not connected to any official channels. When you're ready to talk, use this."
Ava pocketed the card along with the folder, her heart hammering with a mixture of fear and determination. She'd crossed the line. She'd taken the evidence from Lucien's rival, accepted a way to communicate secretly, agreed to investigate the truth about her father despite his warnings.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware that the tracking app might be disabled, but Lucien had other ways of monitoring her. He'd know she was here, at this bar, at this time. Would know she'd met with Alexander Vance despite his explicit warnings about the rival CEO's intentions.
Part of her hoped he would confront her about it. Part of her wanted him to demand an explanation, to give her an excuse to finally lay out all her anger and grief and confusion about everything that had happened between them.
But another part—the part that had just taken evidence from his business rival—hoped he wouldn't find out until she'd had time to read through the folder, to understand the full truth about what had happened to her father.
"Thank you for coming," Alexander said, standing as she prepared to leave. "I know it took courage to meet me, especially knowing how Lucien will react."
"He'll be furious," Ava agreed.
"Probably." Alexander's smile was knowing. "But fury means he's losing control. And for men like Lucien Drake, losing control is the most terrifying thing that can happen."
Ava left the bar with the folder clutched against her chest like armor, stepping out into the Manhattan evening that felt different now—charged with possibility and danger in equal measure. She knew she should go straight home, should put the folder in her apartment and wait until she'd calmed down before reading through it.
But she also knew that going home meant being alone with information that could destroy everything about the life she'd built over the past months. And she wasn't sure she was ready for that solitude.
Instead, she found herself walking toward Drake Enterprises, toward the building where Lucien was probably still working late as he so often did. The folder felt heavy in her hands, weighted with truth and lies and the complicated tangle of feelings she had for a man who was both her captor and her protector.
She was going to confront him. Going to demand answers. Going to make him choose between his business interests and her right to the truth.
And she was going to do it knowing that the tracking app was disabled, that he might not know where she was or what she'd done until it was too late to stop her.
It was reckless. It was dangerous. It was exactly the kind of thing Lucien had warned her against.
But as she pushed through the doors of Drake Enterprises and headed toward the executive elevator, Ava realized that she was done being controlled by other people's fears and agendas.
It was time to take control of her own story, regardless of the consequences.