The city was louder that night. Car horns screamed, music spilled from bars, and laughter echoed from strangers who had no idea her world was collapsing. Selina walked past it all in silence, her coat pulled tight against the chill.
Inside, she was burning.
Every step replayed Oliver's words in her head: "Maybe it's best if you take a step back." He hadn't even defended her—not really. He'd let Clara frame the narrative. He'd let them all believe she was nothing but a pretty scandal.
She should have collapsed. She should have accepted defeat.
But instead, something fierce stirred within her.
If they thought she was weak, fine. If Clara thought she had won, fine.
Selina would rise so high, Clara wouldn't even see her coming.
The next morning, she didn't go to Kane Enterprises. Instead, she went to her small, cluttered apartment and pulled out the folder she'd been compiling quietly for months.
She called it her survival file.
It contained notes about clients, numbers Clara had "adjusted" in reports, discrepancies in projects that Oliver never saw because Clara intercepted them. Selina hadn't thought much of it at first—just odd little details. But now, staring at the pages, she saw the truth.
Clara wasn't just ruthless. She was sloppy.
Selina smiled bitterly. "You've been hiding behind power for so long, you don't even know how to cover your tracks."
Her phone buzzed. A text.
Unknown Number: You don't know me, but I believe you. Meet me at Café Noir. 7 PM.
Selina's heart jumped. It could be a trap. But something in her gut told her it wasn't Clara.
At 7 PM sharp, she arrived at Café Noir. The place smelled of roasted coffee beans and warm bread, a sharp contrast to the storm in her chest.
A man waved her over. He was in his thirties, glasses slipping down his nose, a nervous smile on his face.
"Selina Hart?"
"Yes." She sat cautiously. "Who are you?"
"Daniel Cho. I used to work at Kane Enterprises. Accounting." His voice dropped. "I was Clara's assistant… until she ruined me.
Selina leaned forward. "What do you mean?"
He fiddled with his coffee cup. "She asked me to manipulate numbers. Hide certain debts, inflate revenue projections. When I refused, she pinned the mistakes on me. Oliver believed her. I was fired."
Selina's chest tightened. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I saw the article about you," Daniel said, his voice trembling with old bitterness. "I know her fingerprints when I see them. And because… you're not the first. Clara destroys anyone who threatens her position. She'll keep doing it until someone stops her."
Selina swallowed hard. "And you think that someone is me?"
He gave her a steady look. "She underestimates you. That's your weapon."
For the first time in weeks, hope flickered in her chest. Maybe she wasn't alone.
That night, Selina lay awake staring at the ceiling. Her mind replayed everything—Clara's taunts, the article, Oliver's silence.
It wasn't just about love anymore. It wasn't about proving herself to Oliver.
It was about justice. About showing Clara that cruelty had consequences.
Selina whispered to the dark, "You took everything from me, Clara. Now I'll take everything from you."
Days passed. She kept to herself, officially "stepping back" from Kane Enterprises projects. Clara paraded around the office like a queen, wearing victory like perfume. But Selina was working in the shadows.
She met Daniel again. He brought her old documents, proof of Clara's tampering. They started building a case a quiet arsenal of truth.
Selina also reached out to a contact from one of the smaller clients Clara had neglected. The woman, an elderly business owner named Mrs. Evans, was furious at how Kane Enterprises had dismissed her concerns. When Selina promised to help, Mrs. Evans agreed to talk.
Piece by piece, the puzzle formed. Clara's empire wasn't as flawless as it seemed.
And Selina was patient.
One evening, Selina left her apartment and nearly collided with Oliver.
He stood outside her building, tall and impossibly composed, but his eyes betrayed something raw.
"Selina," he said softly. "I've been trying to reach you."
Her chest tightened, but she folded her arms.
"Why? To tell me again to 'step back'?"
Oliver flinched. "I didn't mean it like that. I was protecting you."
"Protecting me?" Selina's laugh was sharp. "By letting Clara humiliate me in front of the board? By saying nothing when she spread lies to the press?"
"Selina—"
"No." She cut him off, her voice trembling with anger. "You don't get to stand here and pretend you were helping me. You chose silence. You chose her."
Oliver's jaw clenched. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then quietly: "I didn't choose Clara. I chose the company. If I lose the board's trust, everything collapses."
Her throat burned. "And what about me? Do I matter in any of this?"
Oliver stepped closer, his voice rough. "You matter more than you know."
For a heartbeat, the world stilled. His eyes were fierce, pleading. And her heart—traitorous heart ached to believe him.
But Clara's laughter echoed in her memory. The article's headline flashed behind her eyes.
Selina took a step back. "Then prove it."
And she walked away, leaving Oliver standing in the cold.
Later that night, Selina opened her folder again. She stared at the growing pile of evidence, her pulse steady.
For the first time since Clara's war began, she didn't feel powerless. She felt dangerous.
This wasn't just survival anymore.
This was war.
And Selina Hart was ready to burn Clara Bennett's kingdom to the ground.
The First Spark
The glass conference table gleamed beneath the overhead lights, reflecting the faces of Kane Enterprises' board members. It was the monthly review meeting, the kind Selina once dreaded for its cold efficiency. Now, it was the stage she'd chosen for her first move.
Clara Bennett sat at the head of the table at her usual position when Oliver allowed her to present. She wore white silk today, pristine and untouchable, her smile calculated to disarm. She looked like the picture of elegance, the queen of this empire.
But queens, Selina thought, could bleed.
Selina sat three seats away, silent, her folder resting on her lap. She hadn't planned to attend, but an email from Oliver's secretary had arrived late the night before: Mandatory attendance. She knew Clara had arranged it, a chance to humiliate her further.
Selina wasn't afraid. Not anymore.
Oliver arrived a few minutes later, his presence filling the room like thunder. He nodded briefly, his gaze sweeping the table, lingering a fraction too long on Selina before settling elsewhere.
"Let's begin," Clara said smoothly, sliding a stack of printed reports across the table. "This quarter's projections are promising. As you'll see, revenue growth is up 12%, with our strongest performance in the European market."
The board members murmured their approval, flipping through the pages. Clara leaned back slightly, basking in their admiration.
Selina watched her with cold detachment. She had seen the real numbers—thanks to Daniel Cho and her own late-night digging. Clara had inflated them, masking shortfalls in two major accounts.
It wasn't catastrophic yet. But left unchecked, it would become fraud.
Selina's moment came when a gray-haired board member frowned at one page. "Clara, these numbers for the Evans account seem… inconsistent. Last quarter they reported delays. But now it shows record profits?
Clara's smile didn't falter. "Those delays were resolved, Mr. Jennings. The account is thriving."
Selina's pulse quickened. This was it. She leaned forward, her voice steady.
"With respect, that's not accurate."
The room stilled. Heads turned toward her. Clara's eyes sharpened like blades.
Selina continued, her tone calm but firm. "Mrs. Evans personally reached out to me last month. Her shipments were still stalled, and she expressed concern about Kane Enterprises' lack of follow-up. I visited her office myself. The account is far from thriving."
A ripple of unease passed through the room.
Clara laughed softly, a sound like poisoned honey. "Selina, dear, perhaps Mrs. Evans misunderstood. After all, she's… elderly."
Selina's hands tightened around her folder, but she forced a smile. "Perhaps. But I've brought documentation."
She slid a packet of papers across the table-the emails Mrs. Evans had sent, the invoices showing delays, the discrepancies Clara had ignored.
The board members pored over them, whispering among themselves.
Oliver leaned forward, his jaw tense. "Clara, why wasn't I informed of this?"
For the first time, Clara faltered. It was subtle; a flicker in her expression but Selina saw it.
"I….. there must have been a miscommunication," Clara said smoothly. "I'll handle it immediately."
Selina held her gaze, unblinking. "I already handled it. Mrs. Evans is willing to renegotiate, provided Kane Enterprises demonstrates accountability."
A hush fell. Selina's words weren't just a correction. They were a challenge.
One of the board members, a stern woman with sharp eyes, nodded approvingly. "Proactive thinking. Well done, Miss Hart."
Heat flushed Selina's cheeks, but she kept her composure. She could feel Clara's fury radiating across the table, masked beneath her practiced smile.
Oliver closed the folder slowly. His eyes flicked between Clara and Selina, unreadable, but Selina didn't miss the way they lingered on her a second too long.
"Meeting adjourned," he said curtly.
As the board members filed out, Clara's heels clicked sharply against the floor as she crossed the room toward Selina. Her smile never wavered, but her eyes blazed.
"That was bold," Clara murmured, low enough that only Selina could hear. "But don't mistake a spark for fire."
Selina met her gaze without flinching. "And don't mistake silence for weakness."
Clara's smile widened, though it was all teeth now. "Careful, darling. You're playing in my world. And in my world, only one of us survives."
"Then I hope you're ready to fight," Selina said softly.
Clara's expression hardened for a fraction of a second before she swept away, her perfume trailing like smoke. Selina exhaled, her hands trembling under the table. She had done it. She had made Clara bleed in front of the board. It wasn't victory yet but it was the beginning.
Later that evening, Oliver found her in the corridor outside the conference room.
"Selina," he said quietly.
She turned, her walls instantly rising. "If you're here to scold me—"
"I'm not." He stepped closer, his voice rougher than usual. "You were right to speak up."
She blinked, caught off guard.
"You saved us from a serious oversight," Oliver continued. "You handled it better than most people in that room could have."
Her throat tightened. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to forgive him. But Clara's shadow still loomed between them.
"I wasn't saving you," she said softly. "I was saving myself."
Oliver's gaze darkened, something dangerous flickering there. He reached for her hand, but she stepped back before he could touch her.
"You have no idea how much I want to trust you," she whispered. "But as long as Clara's at your side, I can't.
And with that, she walked away, leaving Oliver standing alone, his hand clenched at his side.
Across town, Clara poured herself a glass of wine in her penthouse, her hands trembling. She had underestimated Selina. She had thought the girl fragile, breakable.
But tonight, Selina had shown claws.
Clara smiled bitterly, staring out at the glittering skyline. Fine. If Selina wanted war, then war she would have.
Because Clara Bennett did not lose.
And she would burn Selina Hart to ashes before she let some little nobody steal Oliver Kane or her empire.