Chapter 8 — Strings and Shadows
By the third day, the air in Alade Holdings felt colder.
Maybe it was the marble floors, or maybe it was me.
I'd been smiling through every meeting, laughing at every joke, and pretending to admire every plan Ethan laid out like he was the savior of business.
In truth, I was counting steps — his words, his habits, his weaknesses.
But today wasn't about Ethan.
It was about Vanessa Drew.
She strutted down the hallway like she owned the building — glossy hair, sharp perfume, and a voice that could slice through glass. She hadn't changed. The same smile that once promised friendship right before she slipped the knife in.
I followed her to the PR department, clipboard in hand, pretending to be just another executive passing through.
When she noticed me, she beamed. "Sophie, right? The new partner liaison?"
Her tone dripped with false sweetness. I returned it in kind.
"That's me. I heard you're handling Ethan's media relations. You must be very close to him."
A flicker in her eyes — pride mixed with possession. "You could say that. We go way back."
I tilted my head. "Oh? How far back?"
"Far enough to know his... secrets." She winked.
I smiled, just enough to look intrigued. "Then I'll make sure to stay on your good side."
Her laugh was brittle, hollow. I left before I said what I really wanted to: You already had your turn, Vanessa. Now it's mine.
---
That night, I opened my laptop and typed her name into my encrypted system — the one I'd built in the months after my so-called death.
I'd become good at digging where others didn't want light to fall.
A few searches later, there it was — a private account under her alias, filled with photos of lavish gifts and coded messages to someone saved as E.C.
"Ethan Cole," I whispered.
My hand trembled slightly, not from surprise, but from confirmation.
He was still hers.
Or maybe she was still his. Either way, it meant leverage.
I clicked deeper — transactions, files, one encrypted folder marked "Press 14."
When I broke the code, the documents inside made my breath hitch.
Leaked articles.
Drafts targeting Alade Holdings — my father's company.
Vanessa was planning to destroy us from within.
I leaned back, heart pounding. It was perfect. If I played this right, I could ruin her reputation and turn Ethan against her — one stone, two targets.
But just as I began copying the files, my screen flickered.
A message appeared across the display:
> You're not the only one watching her. – J
I froze.
Who—?
Then I remembered. Jason Cole.
My phone buzzed a second later. A text.
> Working late?
> Always, I replied. And you?
> Same. Tell me, Sophie... do you always dig this deep when you want to know someone?
I stared at the message, pulse racing. He knew.
I typed slowly.
> Depends. Do they have something worth knowing?
> Some people do. But some diggers end up buried.
The chat ended there, but his words clung to me like smoke.
How much did Jason know? Was he protecting his brother, or was he playing his own game?
Either way, I couldn't afford to stop now.
---
The next morning, I sent an anonymous email from a burner account to a top journalist:
> Tip: Vanessa Drew of Cole Media may be leaking corporate documents. Check her recent account activity.
I hit send.
By noon, whispers had started spreading. Vanessa's phone rang off the hook, her perfect smile beginning to crack. Ethan stormed out of his office twice. And Jason… watched in silence, his expression unreadable.
Everything was working perfectly — until I walked past the executive lounge and heard my name.
"—Sophie Alade. She's not who she says she is."
Jason's voice. Calm, low, dangerous.
I froze by the door.
Another voice replied — Ethan's. "What do you mean?"
Jason hesitated. "I don't know yet. But something about her doesn't add up."
I slipped away before they saw me, my heart a wild drumbeat in my chest.
So he was watching me.
Back in my office, I sank into the chair, staring at the skyline.
For the first time since I came back, I wasn't sure which Cole brother was the bigger threat.
Or which one would fall first.
> "You can watch me all you want, Jason," I whispered to the glass.
"But in the end, you'll still play my game."