CHAPTER5
1038 Words
Adrian’s office buzzed with tension. Reports were flooding in that one of their European subsidiaries had triggered a regulatory flag, and internal auditors were now demanding documents from multiple departments. Adrian leaned over the conference table cluttered with printouts and legal folders.
“This could kill the Geneva deal,” his Vice President muttered beside him. “If we don’t get ahead of it.”
The Geneva deal was the biggest merger Adrian had negotiated in years, opening doors across Europe and locking in his promotion.
“I know,” Adrian said coldly.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it.
Then it buzzed again. He glanced at the screen. No name. Just a video file. He tapped it open.
It was grainy. Shadowed. But unmistakable.
Lynda and Luca. His wife. His wife.
In the garden, laughing softly. Leaning toward him.
Adrian’s throat tightened. He felt something break behind his ribs.
A soft voice came from behind him. “Sir, they’re waiting for your approval on the compliance memo.”
“Give me a minute,” he said sharply.
Silence followed. Heads turned. Adrian never snapped, not in public.
He stood abruptly. “I need five minutes. Alone.” He walked out without another word.
Adrian slid down until his back pressed against the smooth wood wall, his heart pounding as panic and disbelief tangled in his chest.
He pictured coworkers and investors talking about him in hushed tones.
A bead of sweat rolled down his head as he watched the blurry footage again, looking for any sign of who had filmed it and why.
Each unanswered question felt like a heavy weight in his stomach, driving him to find whoever did this, but his fear left him frozen.
He realized, with sinking dread, that his trust had become a weakness, one someone was now using against him.
Luca scrolled through his phone as he walked down the marble hallway of the Ashford estate. He deleted Evelyn’s last message.
“One push, just one nudge and he crumbles”
He didn’t reply. He didn’t need her reminders. He knew what they had done. And he knew to keep his distance.
He passed a hallway mirror, catching his reflection. Sharp suit. Clean smile. Empty eyes.
He tapped out a message to Lynda. “Hope you slept well.” No remorse. Just rhythm.
Lynda sat in the courtyard garden, barefoot with sunlight warming her shoulders. She wore a light cardigan and a softer expression. Her phone lit up.
She smiled at the message and replied. “Too well. You’re trouble.”
She hummed a tune she didn’t recognize and took a sip of coffee. There was no shame. No worry. Just the quiet confidence of a woman who thought she was safe.
She didn’t know the night had been recorded. She didn’t know Adrian had seen it. As far as she knew, it was just s*x with someone who finally looked at her like she mattered.
Back at the office, Adrian leaned over a sink in the executive washroom. His fingers gripped the porcelain edge as he tried to steady his breathing.
He had watched the video twice.
It wasn’t just betrayal. It was calculated and intentional. His phone buzzed again.
A second message arrived.
“Protect your image, keep the girl for the contract or the world sees it too.”
His stomach dropped. This wasn’t heartbreak. This was blackmail. And whoever sent it knew about the promotion.
In the mansion, Evelyn sat at the piano bench, a cup of tea resting beside the keys. Her assistant stepped in quietly.
“Ma’am, Public Relations just released a vague denial. There’s pressure building.” Evelyn smiled without looking up.
“Pressure always clears the air.”
She didn’t need to say more. The damage had already begun.
And she had others to carry the flame.
Later that afternoon, Adrian returned to his office. The air had shifted. His secretary approached in a low voice.
“Sir, the board scheduled a private call. Urgent.”
“About Geneva?” he asked.
“No. About optics”. Image. Headlines. Reputation. Everything is on the line.”
Adrian nodded slightly and entered his office. He scrolled through the messages again. The video was still there.
Whoever had it could ruin him with one upload.
And Lynda. Did she know? Had she done this?
His chest ached. He had never felt so unsure of her. Or of anything.
That evening, Lynda curled up on the velvet couch, watching a documentary with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. She wore socks too big and a grin too warm for the reality she was unaware of. Her phone lit up again.
Luca: “Since last night in the garden, I can’t stop feeling the warmth of your skin and your gentle softness that haunts me.”
She giggled to herself and typed back.
“Next time maybe don’t leave so fast.”
She still didn’t know. The staff hadn’t whispered. The world hadn’t told her. And Adrian hadn’t said a word.
To her, it had been a reckless escape. A secret thrill. Nothing more.
A small café flickered with the soft light of a dusty TV. The news anchor’s voice read aloud.
“Ashford Holdings faces scrutiny today following the public release of anonymous footage and leaked internal documents,” the anchor said, while the screen showed a pixelated headshot of Lynda beside the company logo”.
At a corner booth, a man stirred his black coffee. His coat was simple but clean. A pair of scratched reading glasses sat beside him.
He didn’t blink when Lynda’s blurred image appeared on screen. He simply watched, his hand frozen around the spoon he held.
Then, slowly, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a worn photograph.
It was faded.
It showed a younger Lynda, maybe twelve, smiling beside him in front of a seaside lighthouse.
He studied it in silence, then folded it carefully and slipped it back inside his jacket.
Without a word, he stood, dropped a few bills on the table, and walked out into the thick evening fog.
No one in the café noticed.
Lynda’s father was alive.
- Writer
