Untitled Episode8
1212 Words
Ethan watched the news with a clenched jaw.
“Sophie Burnett to Launch Pan-African Women's Initiative—Press Conference Scheduled for Tomorrow.”
She was climbing. Thriving. Rising like her initiative's name.
Kingmaker’s voice buzzed in on the encrypted phone. “She’s five moves ahead of you.”
“She’s flashy,” Ethan replied. “And soft. She’s using pain as armor.”
Kingmaker chuckled. “The most dangerous people are the ones who’ve already been destroyed.”
Ethan swirled his drink. “Do we have anything on her assistant?”
A pause. “Yes. Camellia Edet. Still loyal. But scared.”
“Then press harder.”
“You’re sure you want to go that route?”
“I want pressure,” Ethan snapped. “I want cracks. Give me one place to hit, and I’ll split her wide open.”
Hours Later
Sophie stood at the whiteboard with Alexander, mapping out media timing for the foundation launch.
“Eight a.m. press release,” Alexander said, ticking the plan. “Ten a.m. soft launch. Noon, official media lunch. Burnett representatives will follow with simultaneous press tours.”
Sophie nodded, arms crossed. “Make sure Camellia approves the logistics.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow. “You trust her that much?”
“She was the only one who stayed when I had nothing,” Sophie replied. “She never once looked at me with pity.”
He leaned against the desk. “That’s rare.”
“I know.”
Alexander was quiet a moment, then added, “You know she’s scared, right?”
Sophie blinked. “What do you mean?”
“She’s flinching at every call. Barely speaks in meetings. She’s carrying something.”
Sophie looked toward the door, where Camellia had just passed by with her tablet and coffee tray.
“I’ll talk to her.”
Camellia stood in the Burnett Foundation’s logistics room, surrounded by clipboards, digital tablets, press kits, and enough coffee to fuel an army. But her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
She tried to focus on her tablet. Confirm catering. Approve media list.
Simple tasks. Things she could do with her eyes closed. But now they felt impossible, like trying to walk a tightrope during a storm.
She reread the message she’d received again that morning:
“You have until tomorrow. Deliver something real—or your brother’s future dies with your silence.”
Her heart thudded in her ears. She glanced at the door.
Sophie was just down the hallway in her office. Calm. Composed. Preparing to announce the launch of The Phoenix Initiative, her boldest, most public project yet.
A project built on trust.
And here Camellia was—breaking under pressure she hadn’t seen coming.
Sophie sat behind her glass desk, flipping through final legal documents. The official press release was ready. Media would be live in less than twenty-four hours. Burnett-owned outlets in Brussels, and New York were standing by.
Alexander paced nearby, reading off his phone.
“Two members of the Belgian Parliament just followed you, I think they want in before the next big announcement.”
Sophie smirked faintly. “Let them wait.”
“You’re trending again, by the way. #RebornBurnett is catching fire.”
“Let it burn.”
He laughed. “There’s that fire.”
She turned serious. “How’s the background check on Ethan’s fixer going?”
Alexander’s smile faded. “Kingmaker. Former corporate strategist turned mercenary consultant. Used to work with a global lobbying firm but vanished into the shadows. He’s known for applying psychological pressure to high-value targets—blackmail, asset freezes, rumor planting.”
Sophie’s fingers paused mid-signature. “So he’s already playing dirty.”
“He doesn’t know how to play clean.”
She nodded. “Then neither do we.”
Later That Day
Camellia sat at one of the stone garden tables, untouched latte steaming beside her. Her tablet buzzed.
Kingmaker: “Time’s ticking.”
She shut her eyes and pressed her palm to her forehead.
She had no idea what to do. Reporting to Sophie would put her brother at risk. Obeying Kingmaker meant betraying a woman who had pulled her from obscurity and made her family.
A shadow fell over the table.
“You good?” Sophie asked, setting her own cup down as she joined her.
Camellia flinched, then masked it with a shaky smile. “Yeah. Just...work overload.”
“You’re lying.”
Camellia blinked.
Sophie’s eyes were sharp. Not cruel—but perceptive. She’d seen this look on her own face in the mirror after Ethan's betrayal. It was the look of someone on the verge of shattering.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Sophie said gently. “But whatever it is, you’re not alone in it.”
Camellia’s throat clenched. “What if someone you trusted asked you to betray someone else you trust more?”
Sophie didn’t flinch. “Then you hold your breath, plant your feet, and decide who you are—because whatever choice you make, it becomes permanent.”
Camellia’s hands tightened around her cup.
“I can’t lose myself,” she whispered.
“You won’t,” Sophie said quietly. “We protect family here. Even the ones not born into it.”
Tears filled Camellia’s eyes. But she didn’t cry. Not yet.
She simply nodded and whispered, “Okay.”
****
Back in the main boardroom, Sophie met with Rachel, Alexander, and three PR executives.
“We drop the Phoenix Initiative launch in Brussels at 10, New York at noon,” one rep said. “Your TED-style speech is scheduled at the Belgium Tech Theatre. Press numbers look solid.”
“And security?” Sophie asked.
“We’ve doubled it,” Alexander said. “Camellia flagged a few guests she didn’t trust. They’ve been removed from the invite list.”
Another PR assistant entered, breathless. “Breaking news—Crawford Global just had a minor stock crash. Someone leaked offshore account data.”
Rachel smiled for the first time all day. “That’ll hurt.”
Sophie stood. “Good. Then let’s press harder.”
Elsewhere
Kingmaker read Camellia’s message reply with narrowed eyes:
“I’m out.”
He chuckled. “Wrong answer.” He dialed a secondary line.
“Activate contingency plan. Soft threat becomes hard pressure. We’re running out of patience.”
The voice on the other end simply said, “Understood.”
That Night, the city glowed beneath the Burnett estate. Sophie leaned on the railing, the night breeze brushing her skin, mind still ticking. Alexander stepped out beside her, two glasses of wine in hand.
“Don’t say anything,” she said. “I’m thinking.”
“I brought wine,” he offered. “That usually makes thinking easier.”
She took a glass and sipped. “Do you think I’m making this too personal?”
“No,” he said. “I think the mistake would be making it impersonal.” They stood in silence.
Then Sophie said, “They want to break me. So I’m going to give them something they can’t touch.”
“Legacy?” “No. Control.”
She turned to him, eyes sharp i
n the moonlight.
“Tomorrow, we launch the Phoenix. And this time, I won’t rise alone.”
- Writer
