Morning sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows of the Moretti mansion, casting a golden glow across the dining room. The only sound was the soft clink of silverware against porcelain—until Hendrick's phone buzzed beside his plate.
He didn't reach for it immediately, instead glancing at Juliet, who stirred her tea with quiet precision. Her hair was loosely tied back, her expression calm, unreadable. For anyone else, it would have been a serene morning. For them, it was a battlefield disguised as polite silence.
"About last night," Hendrick began cautiously.
Juliet didn't look up. "The board enjoyed your event."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know." She set her spoon down neatly. "But it's easier to discuss the company than the woman you've been parading around as your assistant."
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Juliet, Nora is an asset. She knows how to attract clients, understands the market—"
"And she understands you," Juliet interrupted softly. "Perhaps too well."
Hendrick froze, then rose abruptly. "You're imagining things."
Juliet lifted her gaze to meet his. "Am I?"
He said nothing. The silence stretched, thin as glass, until his phone buzzed again—this time flashing Nora Blake's name. Juliet's lips curved faintly. That told her everything she needed to know.
When Hendrick left for work moments later, Juliet sat, hands wrapped around her cup, her mind sharpening like a blade. She had always believed in defending her home—but she had learned that wars weren't always won with confrontation. Sometimes, intelligence was the deadliest weapon.
And Juliet Moretti intended to uncover everything about Nora Blake.
---
By noon, Juliet was in her private study, scrolling through her tablet while her assistant, Clara, typed furiously across from her. Clara was young, loyal, and precise—the kind who knew how to dig without leaving traces.
"I need everything on Nora Blake," Juliet said firmly. "Professional history, background, family—everything."
Clara nodded. "Already started, ma'am. She's listed as a marketing strategist, Oxford graduate. Parents deceased. Lived in London until three years ago, moved here when she joined Moretti Corp."
Juliet frowned. "Three years ago? That's around when Hendrick expanded the European division."
"Yes, ma'am," Clara said quietly. "And… there's something odd about her records."
Juliet leaned forward. "Odd?"
"Her degree checks out," Clara said, "but her employment history doesn't. She worked at a firm called Regency Global in London. The company collapsed abruptly after an embezzlement scandal. Several employees were under investigation—including one 'N. Blake.'"
Juliet's heartbeat quickened. "Go on."
"Charges were dropped for lack of evidence. She left the country shortly after."
Juliet exhaled slowly, her mind connecting the pieces. "So she ran. And Hendrick… hired her."
"Unknowingly, maybe," Clara suggested. "Or maybe not."
Juliet's lips thinned. "Either way, it's leverage."
---
That evening, Juliet visited Hendrick's office unannounced. His secretary glanced up, startled, but didn't stop her—no one ever did.
She found Hendrick by the window, phone in hand, mid-conversation. His tone softened the moment he saw her. "I'll call you back," he said quickly, hanging up.
"Juliet. This is a surprise."
"Just thought I'd bring dinner," she said, holding a small bag. "You've been working late too often."
A wary smile flickered across his face. "Thoughtful of you."
They ate quietly, the tension easing under a veneer of normalcy. But when Juliet rose to pour more wine, her eyes caught a red folder on his desk labeled Blake, N.
She ran a finger across it casually. "Keeping personnel files in your office now?"
"It's just her project reports," he said too quickly.
Juliet smiled faintly, returning to her seat. "Of course. She's very dedicated."
"She is," Hendrick replied, oblivious to her tone. "Honestly, she reminds me of how you were when we started."
Juliet laughed softly. "Passionate and naïve?"
"Determined," he corrected. "Fearless."
She met his gaze. "Fearless women don't let anyone take what's theirs, Hendrick. Remember that."
Her words hung in the air like smoke. Hendrick said nothing.
---
Later, in her bedroom, Juliet sat before her vanity. Her reflection stared back—calm, beautiful, unbroken. Yet beneath that mask, her mind raced.
Nora Blake had secrets. And Juliet now had the first thread. The scandal, the missing records, the timing—it all hinted at something darker.
She picked up her phone and texted Clara:
"Find out who funded Regency Global before it collapsed. Follow the money."
Minutes later, a reply:
"On it, ma'am. Oh, and one more thing—Miss Blake wasn't always Nora. Her legal name used to be Eleanor Blackwood."
Juliet's lips parted slightly. Eleanor Blackwood.
The name stirred a faint memory—a headline from years ago. She opened her tablet and searched the archives:
"Eleanor Blackwood — Heiress Disappears After Financial Scandal in London."
Juliet's heart quickened. Nora wasn't just ambitious. She was a runaway heiress with a past buried so carefully no one dared speak of it—until now.
---
The next morning, Juliet arrived at Moretti Corp unannounced. Her heels clicked sharply against marble. In the lobby, Nora charmed a client with her flawless smile.
Their eyes met.
"Good morning, Mrs. Moretti," Nora said, sweetness lacing her tone. "What brings you here?"
Juliet stopped in front of her, expression cool. "Just business. Though I've been reading about you."
"About me?" Nora's smile faltered.
"Oh yes," Juliet said softly. "Or should I say—Eleanor Blackwood?"
The color drained from Nora's face, but she quickly recovered, laughing lightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Juliet leaned in, voice low enough for only Nora to hear. "I think you do. And so will Hendrick—when I decide he should."
With that, Juliet turned and walked away, her perfume lingering like a warning.
Nora stood frozen, heart pounding. Confidence, for the first time, cracked.
Juliet Moretti wasn't just fighting back—she was winning.