Lana Siegel
1676 Words
Lana’s POV
“This is a goddamn marriage certificate.”
I met his unflinching gaze and suddenly felt
the overwhelming urge to punch him.
Strangle him.
Maybe even kill him.
But why would I?
After all…
He was the only man capable of saving me from the disaster swallowing my life whole.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips like he already knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Time is ticking, Miss Lana.” His voice was calm. “What are you going to do?”
My grip tightened around the papers.
Shit
Few Days Ago
“Miss Lana… we’re pulling out.”
The words slammed into the boardroom like a gunshot.
For exactly one second, nobody moved.
Then it felt like the room had started spinning.
I straightened slowly in my chair and folded my hands together before anyone could notice the slight tremor in my fingers.
“I’m sorry?” I asked calmly. Maybe I didn’t hear him properly, one could start hearing funny things when running on three hours of sleep.
The investor cleared his throat.
“Holloway Capital will be withdrawing from the West Tower expansion project effective immediately”
Hell no.
“You approved phase two funding three weeks ago,” I said evenly.
He looked away from me.
“And construction has already started.”
“We understand.”
No. They didn’t.
Because if they did, they would know pulling out now would cost us millions.
Maybe more.
I forced myself to maintain eye contact.
“Then help me understand why I woke up this morning to a withdrawal notice instead of a phone call.”
The older investor sighed like this conversation exhausted him already.
“There have been concerns regarding instability inside Siegel Hospitality.”
My stomach tightened.
“What concerns?”
A brief silence followed.
Rachel frowned beside me. “We’ve submitted stable projections every quarter for the last three years.”
Another investor finally spoke.
“There were emails sent from your office regarding emergency restructuring.”
I blinked once.
“What?”
The man slid a printed document across the table.
I grabbed it immediately and felt my heartbeat stumble.
The sender carried my company credentials.
It had my name. My company's name but it wasn’t my email.
My eyes scanned the first paragraph.
We are currently preparing emergency liquidity procedures due to projected fourth-quarter losses—
“What the hell is this?” I muttered.
Nobody answered.
Did every single person at that table think I sent it?
I looked up sharply.
“I didn’t authorize this.”
One investor avoided my eyes completely.
Another quietly closed his laptop.
They were already done.
This wasn’t a meeting.
It was an autopsy.
Rachel leaned closer to me. “Lana…”
“No.” I sat up straighter. “No, there’s obviously been some kind of mistake.”
“Three vendors also reported contract inconsistencies from your office,” another investor added carefully.
My pulse started pounding harder.
“What vendors?”
“Lark Holdings. Verona Luxury and Ashford Interiors.”
Blood drained slowly from my face.
Those were our three biggest renovation suppliers.
Rachel looked horrified now.
“That’s impossible,” she said quickly. “I personally oversaw those negotiations.”
“So did I,” I snapped before catching myself.
Silence crashed down again.
Damn it.
I closed my eyes briefly.
Just one second.I was Lana Siegel, CEO of Siegel Hospitality.
The woman who rebuilt an empire at twenty-three years old after burying both her parents before turning twenty.
I would not fall apart in front of these people.
“Give me forty-eight hours,” I said firmly.
A pause.
Then—
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
My jaw tightened.
The lead investor slowly gathered his files.
“We appreciate everything your family has done for this city, Miss Lana.”
Corporate pity.
Jesus Christ.
They already thought we were dead.
One by one, they stood from the table, chairs scraped softly across marble floors.
Folders closed and buttons fastened.
Nobody looked directly at me on their way out.
That hurt worse than the rejection itself.
Rachel stayed frozen beside me until the doors finally shut behind the last investor.
Heavy, ugly silence hit me hard. I’d lost it all.
I stared at the empty chairs across from me.
What just happened? Did I just lose my company?
No that’s not possible. This was most likely a nightmare. I just needed to count to ten and pinch myself.
One. Two. Three. Four—
“Lana…”
“I’m fine.”
“You are very clearly not fine.”
I stood up immediately and grabbed the printed email again.
Every word made me sicker.
Someone had been moving inside my company wearing my face.
And I had no idea how long it had been happening.
“Trace the sender IP,” I ordered sharply.
Rachel stood too. “Already trying.”
“Call legal.”
“Done.”
“Freeze every outgoing vendor authorization until I approve it personally.”
Rachel hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
My stomach dropped.
“Rachel.”
Her expression tightened.
“They’ve already started cancelling.”
I felt something cold settle deep in my chest.
“How many?”
“Six.”
Six.
Jesus.
I grabbed my phone instantly and walked out of the boardroom before the panic could fully
reach my face.
Employees moved quickly around the hotel lobby below us, completely unaware their company was bleeding out in real time.
“Get me Damon,” I said the second my assistant appeared.
She nodded quickly. “Right away.”
I walked straight toward my office. Ignoring every single greeting along the way.
Because if I stopped moving for even one second.
I might start screaming.
By seven that evening, I had discovered three fake authorizations, two altered contracts, and one investor agreement that had apparently collapsed during a meeting I never attended.
I stared at the documents spread across my desk and rubbed both hands over my face.
None of this made sense.
Whoever was doing this knew our systems intimately.
Too intimately.
A knock sounded against my office door.
“Come in.”
Damon walked in holding two coffees and wearing the same careless smile that had gotten him out of trouble his entire life.
“There she is,” he said lightly. “Corporate queen of New York.”
I looked up sharply.
“You’re late.”
“Ouch.” He handed me coffee. “Nice to see you too.”
I ignored the joke immediately.
“Where were you?”
His smile flickered slightly.
“With friends.”
“Which friends?”
“Damn, Lana.” He laughed weakly. “Are you interrogating me now?”
I held his gaze.
And slowly…
Very slowly…
His smile faded.
That was when I noticed it.
The exhaustion beneath his eyes.
The tension in his shoulders.
The way he wouldn’t fully look at the documents on my desk.
A strange feeling crawled up my spine.
“You know something,” I said quietly.
His head snapped up instantly. “What?”
“About the company.”
“What? No.”
Too fast.
Way too fast.
I leaned back slowly in my chair.
“Damon.”
“I said no.”
His jaw tightened.
Mine did too.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he forced another smile onto his face.
“This is probably just some asshole competitor trying to scare investors.”
“Someone is impersonating me.”
The smile vanished again.
I watched him carefully.
Too carefully.
And suddenly…
My little brother looked nervous.
A horrible feeling settled in my stomach.
“Damon,” I said slowly. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“No.”
This time he did look away.
Only for a second.
But I caught it.
And Damon knew I caught it.
The tension between us thickened instantly.
Then his phone buzzed.
He looked down at the screen too quickly.
“I should go.”
“What?”
“I promised I’d meet someone.”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
My frustration snapped hard against my ribs.
“The company is collapsing and you’re leaving?”
“Lana—”
“No, actually answer me. What the hell is going on with you lately?”
He flinched slightly.
And immediately I regretted it.
God.
He looked tired.
“I’m handling it,” he muttered.
Handling what?
But before I could ask—
He walked out.
The door shut softly behind him.
And suddenly the office felt too quiet.
I stared at the closed door for a long moment.
Then forced myself back to work.
I didn’t have the luxury of emotional breakdowns anymore.
Not when everything around me was catching fire.
The city outside my apartment windows blurred into streaks of white and gold while financial reports covered nearly every surface in my living room.
I had stopped pretending sleep was happening hours ago.
The television played quietly in the background while I scanned another vendor report.
Denied.
Cancelled.
Withdrawn.
God… who could have done this?
I dropped the file onto the table and leaned back against the couch with a long exhale.
Then—
“Forbes International stock continues to rise after CEO Zade Forbes finalized—”
I froze.
Every muscle in my body locked instantly.
Slowly…
My head turned toward the television.
Forbes Tower filled the screen first.
Then the camera shifted to a face I never thought I’d see.
Three years disappeared
in one brutal heartbeat.
The same dark eyes.
The same terrifying calm.
Older now but sharper somehow.
The interviewer said something.
I didn’t hear it.
All I could hear was my own heartbeat.
He looked directly into the camera.
And for one insane second…
It felt like he was looking directly at me.
My throat tightened painfully.
No.
No way.
Not now.
Not after three years.
I stared at the screen without blinking.
“Zade?”
- Writer
