He tensed, a low growl of frustration rumbling in his chest. He was reluctant to let go, his arms tightening for a fraction of a second before he forced himself to relax his hold.
"It's Miriam," he said, glancing at the screen. His brow furrowed. "Who's that?"
I smiled at him, "Don't be jealous. She's the housekeeper."
I took a steadying breath and walked to the table, my legs feeling strangely new. Beneath my smile, the name on the screen sent a different kind of chill through me: Why is Miriam calling me at this hour?
I answered, bringing the phone to my ear. "Miriam?"
"Miss Elara!" Her relief was palpable, her voice a hushed, frantic whisper. "Thank the heavens. I've been calling your personal assistant for two days. She said you weren't in. I got worried since you haven't been home for a while now. And the things they were saying in the papers... I was worried-"
The papers. Of course. The scandal was public. And my silence would be noted.
"Don't worry. I'm well, Miriam. I'm safe," I said, the practiced calm of the usual Elara Sterling settling over me like a familiar, if heavier, coat. Kaelen watched me, his gaze sharp, reading the shift in my posture. "What's happened?"
She lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. "It's Ms. Diana. She was on the phone in the west wing library earlier. She thought she was alone, but I was dusting in the adjoining room."
I met Kaelen's eyes, my own turning to ice. He took a step closer.
"What did you hear?" I asked, my voice dropping to match hers.
"Bits and pieces, miss. It was hard to make out." Her voice trembled with indignation. "But she was talking about the board, about your… 'prolonged and concerning absence.' She said something about you being 'unfit to steward the company through this volatility' and… and 'a child playing at being a CEO.' She mentioned needing to 'assume stewardship for the stability of the Sterling Group.' I heard her say the name 'Grayson'—I think she was talking to someone called Mr. Grayson."
"A member of the Board," I muttered under my breath.
The pieces clicked into place with a chilling finality. Diana wasn't just waiting in the wings. She was staging her coup. Using my disappearance, my trauma, as a weapon to paint me as an unstable little girl who couldn't handle the empire. She was going for the throat—my birthright.
"I see," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "Thank you, Miriam. You've done well. Don't do anything else. Just keep your eyes and ears open."
"Of course, miss. Please be careful."
I ended the call. The silence in the safe house was now charged, electric with a new kind of threat.
"Diana," I said, the name a curse. I looked at Kaelen, the strategist fully awakened. "She's making her move. She's telling the board I'm too young, too unstable from the 'scandal,' and that my absence is a liability. She's positioning herself to take control of the Sterling Group."
Kaelen's expression darkened, the protective fury in his eyes hardening into something cold and analytical. "She's using what happened to you as her ammunition."
Kaelen was already analyzing me, his gaze a physical weight. "Elara." His voice was low, urgent. "What do you need? My legal team, my analysts—they can be on this in an hour. Just say the word."
I looked at my hands, no longer trembling, and curled them into fists. Solid. Steady. This was a different kind of fight, one I was born for.
"No," I said, meeting his eyes. "If I walk into that boardroom with the CEO of Vancourt Holdings holding my hand, it proves every single point Diana is making. That I'm a child. That I'm unstable. That I need a rival company to manage my own." I took a sharp breath, the strategy crystallizing with terrifying clarity. "I have to do this alone. I will do this alone."
He wanted to argue. I saw the protest in the tight line of his jaw, the protective fury warring with his respect for my capability. But he was Kaelen Vancourt. He understood symbolism and power plays better than anyone.
"Alright," he conceded, the word tight. "But I'm your backstop. The second you need anything—anything—you call. Understood?"
"Understood."
I didn't sleep. While the city outside slept, I was at the safe house's secure terminal, my fingers flying across the keyboard. I pulled up quarterly reports, the merger files, Grayson's committee notes. I cross-referenced everything Diana had touched in the last six months.
My phone buzzed at 7:03 AM. Pauline. I answered on the first ring.
"Miss Sterling! Grayson called an emergency board meeting. It's in 30 minutes at headquarters! I just got the note a while ago! What do I do?"
A cold smile touched my lips. Of course they did. The note was just a formality. They didn't think I would make it. "Just stay calm. I'm on my way," I said, my voice calm, absolute.
I was already dressed. Not in soft, comforting clothes, but in a razor-sharp, black Alexander Wang suit, my hair pulled into a severe low knot. I looked in the mirror. The faint shadows under my eyes didn't speak of fragility; they spoke of relentless all-nighters. Good.
The ride to Sterling Group was a blur. My mind was a chessboard, the pieces all in motion. I didn't need Kaelen's army. I had my own.
I walked through the gleaming lobby, my heels striking the marble with a sound like gunshots. Employees froze, watching me pass. The whispers started, but I didn't hear them. My focus was a laser.
Pauline was waiting for me by the lift. Her knuckles white with anxiety.
I didn't break stride as I pushed open the heavy oak doors to the boardroom.
The scene was exactly as I'd imagined. The air was thick with tension and the smell of expensive coffee. The long mahogany table was a battlefield. On one side, the old guard—Mr. Albright and Ms. Chen—were flushed, arguing. On the other, Grayson and his sycophants looked smug. And at the head of it all, Chairman Lang. Right next to him, in my father's customary seat, sat Diana.
The conversation died a sudden, sharp death.
All eyes snapped to me. Diana's perfectly composed face went slack with pure, unadulterated shock. Grayson actually choked on his coffee.
It was Diana who recovered first. Her shock melted into a performance of maternal concern so convincing it was sickening. She rose, her hands fluttering, a picture of gentle worry.
"Elara! My dear child!" she exclaimed, her voice a soothing balm meant to smother. She moved towards me as if to pull me into an embrace, to physically diminish me in front of the board. "You shouldn't be here. You should be at home, resting. After everything you've been through... that dreadful business in the papers... we were all so worried for you."
She paused, laying a gentle, patronizing hand on the back of a chair, a queen claiming her territory. "We're handling this, darling. The company is in safe hands. You don't need to trouble yourself."
Every word was a masterstroke of poison. Child. Resting. Dreadful business. Safe hands.
I didn't flinch. I didn't step back. I met her saccharine gaze with a look of absolute, arctic stillness. The silence in the room stretched, becoming unbearable.
"Thank you for your concern, Diana," I said, my voice quiet, but it cut through the room like a shard of glass. I didn't move to the empty seat they'd likely left for me. I walked right past her, my shoulder brushing hers, forcing her to step aside. I didn't stop until I was standing behind my father's chair—behind my chair.
I let my fingertips rest on the polished mahogany. "But the hands that built this company were my father's," I said, my gaze sweeping the room, landing on each board member in turn. "And he entrusted it to me."
I pulled the chair out and sat. The message was undeniable.
I placed my phone on the table with a definitive click. I looked directly at Grayson, who seemed to be trying to shrink into his suit.
"Now, Mr. Grayson. I believe you called this emergency meeting to discuss my fitness to lead." I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a deadly calm. "Go ahead."
A ripple went around the table. Grayson's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Well, since you're here, perhaps we can be… direct." He adjusted his cufflinks—stalling. "The company has endured several weeks of instability. Investors are nervous. The board is divided. We need decisive leadership—someone who can restore market confidence. Not… emotional volatility."
Albright's head snapped up. "Volatility? We're basing commercial decisions on tabloids now, Grayson?"
"It's not just the tabloids you know," Grayson said, feigning regret. "Public perception doesn't care about nuance. The press sees headlines, not context. Miss Sterling's ordeal—regardless of the background—has created uncertainty. We can't afford to project weakness."
"Charles Sterling didn't build this company on optics," Albright shot back. "He built it on integrity, on grit. And he named her as interim CEO, not anyone else."
"Ah." Grayson leaned back, his smirk calculated. "If it's bloodline you're concerned about, Albright, I seem to recall that Charles also had a stepdaughter."
The room shifted. I saw the exchange of glances, the subtle spark of tension Diana pretended not to notice.
"Chloe," Grayson continued smoothly, "has a degree in economics, she is guided by Diana, who has executive experience in the Westland Project, and none of the… negative press associations currently surrounding our dear Miss Sterling... Miss Elara Sterling, I mean. In times like these, stability trumps sentiment."
Albright bristled. "You're suggesting we erase bloodline and legacy for convenience?"
"I'm suggesting we protect the company," Grayson replied. "And with Chloe, it can be both protecting the company, and legacy."
Diana, ever the diplomat, finally spoke. Her tone was soft, conciliatory—designed to sound like reason."Let's not turn this into a family feud. We're all here for the same purpose—to safeguard Sterling Group's future."
Her eyes flicked to me—feigned sympathy, weaponized concern."You've been through so much, Elara. No one would blame you for stepping back. Just temporarily, of course. To recover. To let capable hands hold things steady."
Capable hands. Hers.
I sat very still, my expression neutral, but inside I could feel the cold clarity of my father's lessons threading through me like steel.Never fight emotion with emotion. Make them trip over their own logic.
"Capability," I said quietly. "Let's talk about that."
All eyes turned to me.
"You mentioned Westland," I continued, my gaze on Grayson. "Diana's division."
He smiled, sensing advantage. "Yes. Westland has been profitable, despite the current climate—"
"Despite creative accounting, you mean." My tone was surgical. "Which, as of last night, the compliance team flagged. Expense inflations. Double-billed contracts. All signed under Diana oversight."
A sharp murmur broke out. Diana's face remained composed, but her knuckles whitened against her pen.
"Irregularities that suggest someone in her department has been cooking the books," I added. "Which—if true—would be far more damaging to our investors than a CEO who survived a gossip."
Grayson's confidence faltered, just slightly. "That's—those are unverified claims."
"They're documented findings," I said as I turned to Diana. "You'll have the report by end of day."
Lang, who had been silent until now, raised a hand. "Enough." His voice cut through the growing chaos. "This is a boardroom, not a courtroom. Let's all take a breath."
The room fell quiet.
He looked at me, then at Diana. "Miss Sterling remains the CEO until the board decides otherwise. And given these new developments, I think it's premature to consider any change in leadership. Is that understood?"
Grayson's jaw tightened. Diana nodded, her smile a thin blade.
"Understood," I said.
Lang leaned back, his tone softening. "Then we're done here. Let's adjourn before anyone else decides to start a war."