Chapter 8 — The Taste of Power
Three weeks later, the name Ariana Blaze-Cole echoed through every boardroom in the city.
What had once been a scandal had become legend — the woman who rose from her own ashes to reclaim an empire.
Magazines called her The Phoenix of the Corporate World.
News anchors called her The Ice Queen of Cole Enterprises.
But behind the cold elegance and the perfect smile, Ariana was still rebuilding herself, piece by fragile piece.
The office tower that bore her name gleamed against the morning sun. Inside, everything was still in motion — phones ringing, meetings whispering, cameras flashing outside. Ariana moved through it all like she owned the air itself.
She did.
Her assistant, Leah, followed close behind, tablet in hand. "Ma'am, the European investors are confirming their partnership, but they want Mr. Cole to co-sign the expansion proposal."
Ariana didn't slow her pace. "Tell them he will. We're partners in business, not enemies in progress."
Leah nodded, smiling faintly. "You know, people keep saying you and Mr. Cole are rewriting the company's history."
Ariana's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "History can be rewritten. But the past — the past never changes."
She entered the boardroom, the long table gleaming under the morning light. The directors stood when she arrived, all in dark suits, all careful not to meet her gaze for too long.
"Good morning, gentlemen," she said. Her voice carried the calm weight of command. "Let's begin."
---
An hour later, the meeting ended with applause — the merger approved, the contracts secured, the future of Cole Enterprises finally steady again.
Damien was the last to leave the room.
He paused by the door, glancing back at her. "You've turned this place into something even my father couldn't control," he said quietly.
Ariana stacked her papers. "Control was his weapon. I prefer power."
His gaze lingered on her, admiration flickering through the shadows in his eyes. "Power looks good on you."
She didn't look up. "Flattery won't undo the past, Damien."
"I know," he said softly. "But I'll still keep saying what's true."
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed. Leah's name flashed on the screen.
"Ma'am, it's urgent," Leah's voice came through. "You need to see this."
Ariana excused herself and stepped into her office. On the screen, Leah had already pulled up a news report.
Breaking News: Robert Cole's Offshore Accounts Resurface — Anonymous Source Leaks Secret Holdings Connected to Global Scandal.
Ariana's heart stilled. "Who leaked it?"
"They don't know," Leah said. "But the files— they're traced back to the Cole family network. Someone used Mr. Cole's private login credentials."
Her blood ran cold. "You mean Damien's?"
Leah nodded. "Yes. And the authorities are already demanding answers."
---
An hour later, Damien's office door slammed shut behind her.
He looked up from his desk, confusion flashing in his eyes. "Ariana?"
"You leaked them?" she demanded, throwing the printed documents onto his desk. "You leaked your father's files?"
He stood slowly, brow furrowing. "No. I haven't touched those files since the investigation began."
Her eyes burned. "Then who has your password? Who has your private access codes?"
"No one," he said. "Not even my assistant."
"Then explain this!" she snapped. "They came from your account!"
He ran a hand through his hair, tension cutting through his calm. "Someone's framing me."
Her voice was sharp. "And you think I'll believe that again?"
He stepped forward, his jaw tight. "Ariana, look at me. I didn't do this. Someone wants to destroy both of us."
She met his gaze — steady, searching — but her heart was a battlefield. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to stop bleeding from every old wound that his lies had carved. But trust, once broken, was harder to resurrect than love.
She turned away. "If you're telling the truth, then prove it."
He exhaled, the sound low and ragged. "I will. Even if it kills me this time."
---
That night, Ariana couldn't sleep. She sat by the window of her apartment, watching the rain blur the city lights again — it seemed the weather always mirrored her turmoil.
Leah had gone home hours ago. The only sound in the room was the soft ticking of the clock and the distant hum of thunder.
Her phone buzzed. An unknown message appeared.
Unknown: You thought the fire ended with Selena. But she wasn't the only one who wanted you gone. Check your email, Ms. Blaze.
Her pulse quickened. She opened her laptop. A single video file waited in her inbox — no sender, no subject line. Just a timestamp from seven years ago.
The night of the fire.
She clicked play.
Smoke. Screams. Flames devouring walls. The camera wobbled as someone ran down a hallway — and then she saw herself, coughing, struggling to open a door.
Behind her, a tall man in a black coat reached out — not to save her, but to lock the door.
The image was blurry, but his face turned for one brief second.
Ariana froze. Her breath caught in her throat.
It wasn't Damien.
It wasn't Selena.
It was Edward Grant — Damien's father's legal advisor. The man who vanished after Robert's death.
Her hand trembled as she closed the laptop. He was alive. And if he still had the files, he was the one using Damien's credentials.
Her phone rang again — Damien.
"I found something," his voice said before she could speak. "Edward Grant's name appeared in the server logs. He's behind the breach."
"I saw him," Ariana whispered. "He was there the night of the fire."
A pause. "Then we're not done yet."
---
They met at the Cole family estate once more — this time not in fear, but in determination.
The mansion had been sealed by investigators, but Damien used his clearance to open the gates. The air was colder than before, the silence sharper.
Inside, dust hung in thin beams of moonlight. Ariana's flashlight cut through it as she followed Damien through the charred remains of the east wing.
"He used the old study as a data hub," Damien said quietly. "My father's private server was hidden behind the wall safe."
Ariana brushed her hand across the cracked wallpaper, feeling for seams. Her fingers caught on a hidden latch. The panel slid open, revealing a steel compartment. Inside, the faint glow of a server light still pulsed.
Damien connected his tablet, his fingers flying over the screen. "He's still accessing it remotely. We can trace him."
"Do it," she said.
Seconds turned into minutes. Then the screen flashed — Location Detected: Zurich, Switzerland.
Ariana stared at it. "He's overseas."
Damien nodded. "If he releases those files, every secret my father buried will come out — and it'll drag your name with it."
She took a deep breath. "Then we stop him first."
---
Three days later, they were on a plane to Zurich.
The city greeted them with snow and silence. The cold bit at Ariana's skin as they stepped into the narrow streets lined with stone buildings. She had been here once, years ago, for business — now it felt like walking into the heart of her past.
Damien's contact met them at a small café on the river. "Edward Grant checked into a private estate outside the city," he said quietly. "He's using it as a data vault. But he's not alone — there are guards."
Ariana's gaze hardened. "Then we go tonight."
---
The estate was vast and silent, perched on a snowy hill. The lights inside glowed dimly, shadows moving behind the curtains.
They entered through the side gate, moving in silence. Ariana's pulse thudded in her ears. She wasn't the same woman who had once fled through flames. She was the one walking into them now, unafraid.
Inside, the study smelled of smoke and metal. Edward Grant stood by a desk, his silver hair catching the lamplight. He looked up as they entered, calm, almost amused.
"Well," he said, voice smooth, "the dead rise faster these days."
Ariana's eyes narrowed. "You locked me in that fire."
He smiled faintly. "Collateral damage. Robert didn't want a scandal. You were too close to the truth."
Damien stepped forward. "You framed me for the breach."
Edward shrugged. "You inherited your father's sins, Damien. I simply reminded the world of them."
Ariana moved closer, her tone icy. "Where are the files?"
He looked at her with something almost like admiration. "You want to expose the Cole legacy completely? That would destroy everything you've rebuilt."
She met his gaze without flinching. "Destruction is just another kind of freedom."
His smile faded. "Then you'll have to take them from me."
He reached for a gun hidden beneath the desk, but before he could aim, Damien lunged forward, knocking it aside. The shot went wild, shattering glass. Snow blew in through the broken window.
Ariana grabbed the laptop from the table, clutching it to her chest as the struggle continued. Edward hit Damien hard, sending him sprawling — but Ariana moved before he could fire again.
She swung the metal lamp across his arm. The gun flew from his hand. They crashed against the desk, papers scattering like snow.
Edward grabbed her wrist, sneering. "You think you're stronger now?"
Ariana's voice was low, steady. "No. Just more dangerous."
She drove her knee into his chest, wrenching free. The gun clattered at her feet. She kicked it away just as Damien rose and slammed Edward against the wall.
The police sirens sounded in the distance — Damien's backup had arrived.
Edward struggled once more, then went limp.
Ariana stood, chest heaving, the snow melting against her skin. She held the stolen files tightly in her hands.
Damien turned toward her, blood trickling from his temple. "It's over," he breathed.
She met his eyes. "No, Damien. It's just the beginning."
---
The next morning, headlines screamed across every news outlet.
"Cole Empire Purged — Corruption Exposed, Justice Restored."
The world hailed Ariana as the woman who brought truth to power. The company's shares fell — then soared.
And somewhere in the quiet aftermath, she stood on her hotel balcony, the dawn light spilling across the mountains.
Damien joined her, silent for a long moment.
Finally, he said, "We could start over, you know. Build something new."
She didn't turn to look at him. "Maybe," she said softly. "But first, I need to remember who I am without your shadow beside me."
He nodded. "Then I'll be whatever distance you need."
Ariana closed her eyes, breathing in the cold morning air. She had fought for revenge, for truth, for power — but the real battle had always been for herself.
Now, at la
st, she had won that too.
The snow kept falling, soft and endless, as the woman who had once burned let the world see her rise — not as someone's wife, not as a victim, but as the empire reborn in her own name.
---
End of Chapter 8