Chloe Carter's hands trembled as she slammed Marcus's office door behind her.
The room was dim, city lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows like fractured stars. Marcus sat with a glass of whiskey in his hand, legs crossed, as if he'd been waiting for her.
"Marcus. We need to talk."
Chloe's voice cracked.
He didn't look surprised.
Or worried.
Only… entertained.
"Chloe," he drawled, swirling his drink. "You look terrified. Something happen?"
She marched closer, fury and fear tangled in her expression.
"Don't play games with me. The shooting at Samantha's penthouse—someone almost died. This isn't part of our deal!"
Marcus finally looked up.
And his expression hardened—just enough to remind her who he truly was.
"A deal?" Marcus repeated softly. "You mean the one where you stole company funds, lied to your family, and funneled information to me?"
Chloe paled.
"You're already too deep," Marcus continued, rising slowly from his seat. "Cross me, and you'll end up like Lynn."
Chloe's knees nearly buckled. "You— You did that to her?"
Marcus didn't blink.
He simply smiled.
Not denial.
Not confirmation.
Just a smile that said he didn't need to answer.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Marcus, I don't want any part of this anymore."
"Want?" Marcus tilted his head. "Chloe, people like you don't get to want. You get to survive."
She shivered.
"And right now," he said softly, "your best chance of survival…
—is standing in front of you."
Chloe swallowed a sob.
Marcus placed a hand on her cheek.
"Be useful," he murmured. "And I'll protect you from what's coming."
She nodded stiffly.
Because she had no choice.
---
Jake Begins to Unravel Marcus's Web
Across the city, Elevate's main operations floor buzzed quietly.
Jake sat in a glass-walled conference room with two monitors glowing before him, sleeves rolled up, tie long discarded.
He'd been digging for hours.
Patterns.
Empty accounts.
Shadow transfers routed through shell companies.
Jake muttered under his breath, typing rapidly.
"Marcus Reed… you arrogant bastard. You left footprints."
A knock sounded at the door.
One of the cyber-security analysts stepped in nervously.
"Sir—these patterns you flagged… they match transactions hitting Carter Group's internal accounts."
Jake's eyes sharpened. "Someone inside the Carter family is helping him."
"Yes, sir."
Jake leaned back in his chair, mind racing.
Kate?
Too paranoid to be precise.
Nick?
Impossible.
Chloe?
His jaw clenched.
The youngest Carter was good with numbers. Smart. Reckless. Easily manipulated.
Jake dismissed the analyst with a nod and continued typing.
If Chloe was Marcus's internal mole…
Then the Carter family was already drowning—they just didn't know it yet.
---
The Business Summit
The annual Global Growth Summit hosted the biggest names in international finance.
Politicians. CEOs. Innovators.
A sea of flashing cameras, glittering gowns, and predatory smiles.
Samantha arrived in a midnight-black tailored dress—a vision of quiet power.
Jake walked beside her in a sleek suit, radiating protective tension.
The crowd parted instinctively.
People whispered her name.
"Sam Bradley…"
"Elevate's powerhouse…"
"Unstoppable."
"A mystery."
She walked with poise, expression cool, but Jake caught the exhaustion behind her eyes.
They mingled with investors, answered questions, shook hands—until Jake finally murmured,
"You haven't eaten."
She raised a brow. "Neither have you."
He smirked. "I'm not the one who hasn't slept in days."
Samantha didn't argue.
Because he was right.
The moment they stepped aside into a private balcony overlooking the city, Samantha leaned slightly against the railing.
The wind was cold.
Refreshing.
Honest.
"You don't have to follow me everywhere," she said quietly.
Jake stepped beside her.
"Someone tried to kill you last night, Sam."
"Yes."
"And you think I'm going to let you walk around alone?"
Her lips pressed into a thin, grateful line.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The city lights shimmered below like a thousand burning secrets.
Then Jake exhaled shakily.
"Samantha," he said, voice lower, "I need to tell you something."
She turned toward him, curious.
Jake ran a hand through his hair.
"I can't protect you," he said painfully. "Not from Marcus. Not from your enemies. Not from… everything you're trying to burn alone."
Samantha's eyes softened. She opened her mouth to speak, but he lifted a hand.
"Let me finish."
He looked at her with raw honesty.
"I can't keep pretending this is only business. I tried. God knows I tried, but—"
His voice broke.
"Every time you push people away, I'm the idiot who keeps coming back."
Samantha stared at him—stunned, unguarded for the briefest second.
Jake continued.
"You're ice and fire and steel, Sam… but when you trust someone, you give them everything."
He swallowed.
"You gave that to the wrong man once. And I've been fighting myself every day to not become the next man who hurts you."
Samantha felt something warm twist painfully inside her.
"Jake…" she whispered. "Don't."
"No, Sam. I'm done holding it in."
He stepped closer.
"You're the one who stayed when the world left me."
She froze.
Those were her words.
Years ago.
When Jake was rebuilding his life.
Now they came back to her—soft and devastating.
A long silence stretched between them.
Jake leaned forward, forehead gently brushing hers, breath trembling.
He didn't kiss her.
He didn't dare.
But their closeness burned.
Finally Samantha whispered—
"You are… the only person who ever saw me without armor. And still stayed."
Jake closed his eyes as if the words physically hurt him.
Soft.
Intimate.
Damning.
Not lovers.
Not yet.
But a line had been crossed—emotionally, irrevocably.
When they finally pulled apart, both were breathing unevenly.
Jake cleared his throat. "We should get back before the board starts rumors."
Samantha nodded, steadying herself.
But as she turned, Jake gently clasped her wrist.
"Sam."
She looked back, eyes questioning.
Jake's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Whatever Marcus is planning… I won't let him take you."
---
Marcus Tightens His Grip
Later that night, Marcus stood before the window of his penthouse, a glass of wine in his hand.
Chloe had left in tears.
Kate had sent another encrypted file.
And one of his men reported something interesting:
Jake was tracing financial trails.
Marcus smirked.
"Let him look," he murmured to himself. "Everything he finds will lead him exactly where I want Samantha to go."
Because Marcus didn't just want to destroy Elevate.
He wanted Samantha Bradley.
Her power.
Her influence.
Her fire.
And her downfall.
One of his men entered quietly.
"Sir, the Carter transactions you set up—they're active. They won't see it coming."
Marcus swirled his wine.
"Oh, they will," he said softly. "Just too late."
*******
The summit ended with applause and flashing cameras.
Samantha handled interviews with poise.
Jake stayed close, silent but steady.
By the time they arrived at her penthouse, it was nearly midnight.
Samantha stopped before her door, exhaustion washing over her.
Jake reached out, touching her elbow gently.
"Try to sleep tonight."
She nodded faintly.
"Jake…"
He looked at her.
"Thank you," she said simply. "For being here."
Jake's expression softened. "Always."
They lingered for a second too long.
Then Samantha stepped inside, closing the door quietly.
Jake remained in the hallway, exhaling shakily—as if holding onto control took everything he had.
Inside her penthouse, Samantha walked toward her window, staring out at the city.
Her heart felt too full.
Too heavy.
Jake's words replayed in her mind.
You're the one who stayed when the world left me.
Her fingers curled against the cold glass.
For the first time in a long time, Samantha Bradley let herself feel something that wasn't revenge, or grief, or anger.
Something terrifying.
Something warm.
Something like…
Hope.