Monday morning at Sterling & Associates did not arrive with its usual hum of productivity; it arrived with the frantic energy of a sinking ship.
When Clara stepped off the elevator, the atmosphere was electric with panic. Phones were ringing off the hook, and junior associates were scurrying between glass offices like shadows. She didn't have to ask what was wrong. She saw it on the lobby television: a rolling news ticker on the financial channel.
BREAKING: VANCE LOGISTICS MERGER IN JEOPARDY. INTERNAL DOCUMENTS REVEAL DEEP DEBT AND "STRATEGIC INEFFICIENCIES."
Clara's heart dropped into her stomach. Those weren't just headlines; they were excerpts from the private audit Elias had been conducting. The "Marlowe Steel" hold, her father's gambling records—everything they had discussed in the dark of the warehouse and the silence of his penthouse—was being shredded in the court of public opinion.
She didn't wait. She stormed toward Elias's office, pushing past his assistant.
Elias was standing behind his desk, the phone pressed to his ear. He looked up as she entered, his expression a mask of granite. "...I don't care about the press release, Marcus. Find the server log. Now." He slammed the phone down.
"You," Clara breathed, her voice trembling with a cocktail of betrayal and fury. "You optimized me right out of my own company, didn't you?"
Elias didn't flinch. "I didn't do this, Clara."
"The only people who had those files were me, my VP, and you," she snapped, stepping toward him until the desk was the only thing between them. "I trusted you. I sat in your kitchen and ate your food while you were preparing to leak my father's disgrace to the highest bidder."
"Look at me," Elias commanded, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous register.
Clara met his eyes. They weren't cold today; they were burning with a cold, focused rage—but it wasn't directed at her.
"If I wanted to destroy Vance Logistics, I would have done it on Day One in the boardroom," he said, each word a measured strike. "I wouldn't waste my time cooking for you. I wouldn't defend your contracts to my partners. This leak hurts me as much as it hurts you. It's my reputation on that ticker, too."
Clara searched his face, her breath hitching. The logic held, but the pain of the exposure was too raw to ignore. "Then who?"
"Someone who wants to tank the merger for a hostile takeover," Elias said. He walked around the desk, stopping just inches from her. He reached out as if to touch her shoulder, then pulled back, his hand curling into a fist. "Go back to your office. Don't speak to any reporters. I'm going to find out who accessed my private server."
"Elias," she said, her voice softening. "If this merger fails, I lose everything. The fleet, the employees... the house."
"It won't fail," he promised. It wasn't a professional assurance; it was a vow. "But we have to change the game. We can't be 'Sterling and Vance' anymore. We have to be a unified front. Which means no more secrets. Not from the board, and not from me."
He was asking for the one thing she feared most: total transparency.
"Does that go both ways?" Clara asked, her eyes narrowing. "Are you going to tell me what was in that drawer in your kitchen? Or is 'no more secrets' just a rule for the people you're 'protecting'?"
The silence that followed was heavy. Elias looked away, the muscle in his jaw working. The fortress was still there, but for the first time, Clara saw a crack in the foundation.
"One fire at a time, Clara," he whispered. "Let's put this one out first."