Natasha's POV
Found her.
James's voice crackled through Elias's phone speaker. Second floor. East terrace. She's alone.
Natasha's heart slammed against her ribs. Eighteen minutes until the deadline.
Stay on the line, Elias commanded. He grabbed Natasha's hand and they rushed back into the hotel, weaving through the crowded ballroom toward the staircase.
Every second felt like an eternity. Natasha's heels clicked frantically against the marble steps as they climbed. Her dress tangled around her legs. Elias's grip on her hand was almost painful, but she didn't pull away.
They burst through the doors onto the terrace.
Simone stood at the railing, her back to them, phone in her hand. The city lights spread out below her like scattered diamonds, beautiful and cold.
Simone, Natasha called out, breathless.
Her former best friend turned slowly. In the dim light, Natasha could see tears on Simone's face, her makeup smudged and running.
I knew you'd come, Simone said quietly. You always were predictable, Tasha.
Please don't do this. Natasha stepped forward, leaving Elias by the door. This conversation needed to be between them. Whatever you think you're protecting me from—
I'm protecting you from him! Simone's voice cracked. From making the same mistake you made with Marcus. Don't you see? Elias Chen is using you just like Marcus used you. This whole relationship is fake, Tasha. I have proof.
She held up her phone, showing the photos ready to be sent to a dozen news outlets.
You don't understand, Natasha said desperately. This is different—
How? How is it different? You're lying to everyone again. Pretending to be something you're not. And when the truth comes out, you'll be destroyed all over again. Simone's tears fell faster. I can't watch that happen to you. Not again. Not when I'm the reason you were vulnerable in the first place.
The confession hung in the air.
You feel guilty, Natasha realized. That's what this is about. You helped destroy me, and now you want to save me to make yourself feel better.
Simone flinched like she'd been slapped. I feel guilty because I destroyed my best friend for a man who never loved me. Because I let Richard manipulate me into betraying the only person who ever really cared about me. Because every time I look in the mirror, I see a monster.
Her voice broke completely on the last word.
Natasha's anger wavered. She'd spent six months hating Simone, imagining her happy and guilt-free, living the life she'd stolen. But looking at her now—hollow-eyed, desperate, clearly miserable—Natasha saw the truth.
Simone had destroyed herself as much as she'd destroyed Natasha.
If you really want to help me, Natasha said softly, then tell me the truth. All of it. Why did Richard want me destroyed? What was the real reason?
Simone glanced at Elias, who stood silently by the door, watching everything with sharp eyes.
He can hear this, Natasha said. We're partners.
Partners, Simone repeated bitterly. Is that what you call a fake relationship now?
Tell her, Elias said, his voice cutting through the tension. Tell her what my cousin did, or I'll make sure Marcus's fake credentials aren't the only thing that gets exposed. I'm sure the journalism ethics board would love to know about an editor who fabricated evidence.
Simone's face went white. You're threatening me?
I'm offering you a choice. The same choice you're offering Natasha. Tell the truth, or face the consequences.
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Simone's shoulders sagged in defeat.
Richard wanted you destroyed because of your father, she said quietly. Because Quinn Media Group was planning to publish an exposé about Chen Industries' hostile takeover practices. Your father had assigned you to investigate it months before the plagiarism scandal. Do you remember?
Natasha's mind raced back. She had been investigating corporate corruption at Chen Industries, following suspicious patterns in their acquisitions. She'd compiled preliminary research, but then the plagiarism accusations hit and everything else got buried in the scandal.
I never published that story, Natasha said.
No, but Richard couldn't risk you finishing it. The evidence you'd gathered could have destroyed his plans to take over from Elias. So he approached Marcus and offered him a deal—destroy your credibility completely, and get a cushy job at Webb Media. Marcus brought me in because I had editor access to fabricate the evidence.
Natasha felt like the ground was dropping out from under her. My entire life was destroyed because I was investigating a story? Because Richard Chen was afraid of what I might publish?
Yes. Simone's voice was barely a whisper.
Elias moved forward, his expression dangerous. What exactly was in Natasha's research?
Evidence that Richard was using insider information to sabotage Chen Ventures deals. That he was planning a systematic takedown of your company to force a board vote in his favor. That he'd been doing it for years, slowly, carefully, so no one would notice.
Where is this research now? Elias demanded.
I don't know. It was on Natasha's work computer, but everything was wiped when she was fired.
Natasha's hands clenched into fists. All this time, she'd thought the plagiarism was about Marcus's jealousy or Simone's resentment. But it had been Richard all along. He'd orchestrated everything to bury a story that could have exposed him.
And now she was fake-dating the man Richard was trying to destroy.
The irony was almost funny.
Except nothing about this was funny.
Why are you telling us this? Natasha asked. If Richard finds out you talked—
I don't care anymore, Simone interrupted. I'm so tired, Tasha. Tired of lying, tired of pretending Marcus loves me when he barely looks at me, tired of being Richard's puppet. I thought destroying you would make me happy. Instead, it's eating me alive.
She looked down at her phone, at the photos ready to be sent.
I wrote that note because I wanted to save you from another betrayal. But maybe the real betrayal is me trying to control your choices. Simone's finger hovered over the delete button. So I'm giving you a choice now. Real one. Should I send these photos and end your fake relationship? Or should I delete them and let you make your own mistakes?
Natasha looked back at Elias. He stood perfectly still, his expression unreadable, waiting for her decision.
This was it. The moment everything could fall apart or somehow, impossibly, come together.
If Simone deleted the photos, the blackmail threat ended. But Richard would still be out there, still dangerous, still plotting.
If Simone sent them, Elias lost everything. Natasha lost her revenge. But at least they'd be free of the lies.
Delete them, Natasha said.
Simone's eyes widened. What?
Delete the photos. All of them.
But the relationship is fake. You're lying to everyone—
Maybe it started as a lie, Natasha interrupted, surprised by the steadiness in her voice. Maybe Elias hired me to play a role. But somewhere along the way, something changed. And I'm not ready to walk away from whatever this is becoming.
She felt Elias's eyes on her, intense and searching.
Simone stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, she pressed delete.
The photos disappeared from her phone screen.
You're making a mistake, Simone whispered.
Probably, Natasha agreed. But it's my mistake to make.
Simone nodded, tears streaming down her face. I'm sorry. For everything. I know that doesn't fix anything, but I need you to know—I'm sorry.
She walked past them toward the door, then paused.
Richard knows about the fake relationship, she said without turning around. He's known from the beginning. He's the one who told me to blackmail you tonight. He wanted to see if you'd choose to stay with Elias or run. This was all a test.
Ice flooded Natasha's veins. A test for what?
To see how committed you are. To see if you're worth destroying. Simone finally looked back, her expression haunted. He's planning something bigger. Something that involves Elias's grandmother and the board vote. I don't know details, but Marcus mentioned eleven PM isn't really the deadline. It's when the real plan starts.
She left before Natasha could ask anything else.
Natasha and Elias stood alone on the terrace, the city humming below them, the weight of Simone's warning settling over them like a shroud.
Natasha checked her phone. 10:54 PM.
Six minutes until something happened.
We need to get back to the gala, Elias said, already moving. If Richard is planning something that involves my grandmother—
A scream cut through the night.
It came from inside the hotel, high-pitched and terrified.
Elias and Natasha ran back through the doors, down the stairs, following the sound of chaos erupting in the ballroom.
People were crowding around something near the auction stage. Security guards pushed through the crowd. Someone was shouting for a doctor.
Natasha's stomach dropped.
They forced their way through the crowd and Natasha saw her.
Meilin Chen, collapsed on the floor, her face ashen, one hand clutched to her chest.
Grandmother! Elias dropped to his knees beside her, his controlled mask shattering completely. Someone call an ambulance!
Meilin's eyes found his, unfocused and struggling. Her lips moved, trying to form words.
Elias leaned closer, his hand gripping hers desperately.
Richard, Meilin whispered, so quietly Natasha barely heard it. He... poisoned... the wine...
Her eyes rolled back and she went limp.
No! Elias's voice broke on the word. No, stay with me. Grandmother, please—
Paramedics rushed in, pushing Elias back. They worked on Meilin with professional efficiency, checking vitals, loading her onto a stretcher.
Natasha stood frozen, watching the woman who'd smiled at her an hour ago being rushed toward an ambulance, possibly dying.
Because of Richard.
Because of this fake relationship.
Because Natasha had agreed to play this game.
Elias stood slowly, his face completely emotionless now. But his hands shook. His jaw was clenched so tight Natasha could see the muscle twitching.
Mr. Chen. A security guard approached. We need to ask you some questions about—
Where is Richard? Elias's voice was deadly calm. Where is my cousin?
We don't know, sir. He left about ten minutes ago. We're trying to locate—
Elias walked away mid-sentence, moving through the crowd with single-minded focus. Natasha hurried after him.
Elias, wait—
He spun around, and the look in his eyes made her step back.
This is my fault, he said, his voice raw with barely controlled rage. I brought you into this. I made you a target. I thought I could control the situation, manage the risks, win the game. And now my grandmother is dying because I was arrogant enough to think I could beat Richard at his own game.
This isn't your fault, Natasha said desperately. Richard did this. He's the one who—
I should have protected her. I should have seen this coming. Elias's hands clenched into fists. Instead, I was on that terrace with you, distracted, while he poisoned her.
The accusation hung between them, unspoken but clear.
This was Natasha's fault too.
What do you want me to do? she whispered.
Elias looked at her, and for the first time since they'd met, she saw him completely unguarded. Devastated. Terrified.
I want you to go home, he said quietly. I want you to stay away from me and my family until this is over. I want you safe.
We have a contract—
The contract doesn't matter anymore! His voice cracked. None of it matters if my grandmother dies. Don't you understand? I can't lose her. She's all I have left.
Tears burned Natasha's eyes. You have me.
Elias shook his head. You're not real, Natasha. We're not real. This whole thing was a business arrangement that spiraled out of control. And now the only person who actually loved me might die because I was too busy playing games to protect her.
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Go home, Elias repeated. I'll have James contact you about terminating the contract and arranging your payment for the work you've done so far.
He walked away without looking back.
Natasha stood in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by people whispering about the scandal, about Meilin Chen's collapse, about whether it was a heart attack or something more sinister.
Her phone buzzed one last time.
A text from Richard Chen: Told you some men are more dangerous than they appear. Should have taken my cousin's advice and run while you had the chance. See you at the funeral, Natasha.
Natasha's legs gave out.
She sank into a nearby chair, her entire body shaking.
Meilin might die.
Elias had pushed her away.
Richard had won.
And somewhere in the chaos, the lines between their fake relationship and whatever real feelings had started to grow had blurred so completely that Natasha couldn't tell anymore where the performance ended and the truth began.
Her phone rang. James Park's number.
She answered with trembling hands.
Ms. Quinn, James's voice was professional as always, but she heard the strain underneath. I've been instructed to arrange a car to take you home and to begin processing your contract termination. The car is waiting at the side entrance.
How is she? Natasha whispered. How is Meilin?
A pause. Critical condition. They're taking her to Metro General. Mr. Chen is riding with her in the ambulance.
Tell him— Natasha's voice broke. Tell him I'm sorry.
I will, Ms. Quinn.
James hung up.
Natasha walked through the side exit in a daze. The black town car waited, driver holding the door open.
She climbed inside and the car pulled away from the hotel, from the chaos, from the wreckage of everything they'd built.
As they drove through the city streets, Natasha stared out the window and finally let herself cry.
She'd spent six months being strong. Being angry. Being numb.
But tonight, she'd let herself feel something real for Elias Chen.
And it had destroyed them both.
Her phone buzzed with one final message from an unknown number:
Your apartment. Now. We need to talk about what really happened tonight. Come alone. —Marcus