Billionaire's Game

Eyes Everywhere

"Amelia... there's something you're not going to like," Sarah said, standing in the doorway of Amelia's glass-walled office. Her voice was low, guarded—but her eyes said everything. Something was wrong.

Amelia didn’t look up from her tablet. "You mean besides the board being split down the middle and my entire company still in critical condition? You’ll have to be more specific."

Sarah walked in, closing the door behind her. She placed a small envelope on Amelia’s desk.

"This came in the morning mail. No return address. No postage. It was hand-delivered."

Amelia finally looked up. Her fingers hovered above the envelope for a second before she opened it.

Inside was a single photo.

A grainy, zoomed-in image of her and Nathan on the balcony from last night. She was leaning toward him. He was whispering in her ear. The shot looked intimate. Too intimate.

Beneath it, in tiny, typed letters:

"You trust him too easily."

Amelia’s blood ran cold.

"Someone’s watching us."

Sarah nodded. "Whoever it is... they have access. Maybe even inside the building."

Amelia stared at the image again. It wasn’t just surveillance. It was a message. And a warning.

"Sarah, I need to see Mr Harper.", Amelia said as she set the envelope and the photo down.

Nathan walked in fifteen minutes later, looking as unbothered as ever. Dark slacks. Rolled sleeves. That ever-calm expression.

"You wanted to see me?"

Amelia didn't answer immediately. She studied him. Not his words—his eyes. His posture. His reactions.

"Do you believe in coincidences, Nathan?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Only when they're followed by a punchline."

She slid the photo across the desk.

He picked it up. Looked at it. Didn't blink.

"Well. That’s creepy."

"That’s not an answer."

Nathan placed the photo back down. "I assume you're asking if I knew about this. I didn't. But it confirms what I've been trying to tell you. We're not just fighting bad numbers. Someone doesn't want this company saved."

Amelia leaned back, arms crossed. "And you think someone would go this far to rattle us?"

"I think someone already has. They're watching your moves. My moves. Probably Sarah's too."

Sarah, standing in the corner, flinched. "Should I sweep my apartment?"

"That would be wise," Nathan said.

"I don't like being played," Amelia snapped. "And I don't like games where I don’t know the rules."

Nathan’s eyes darkened slightly. "Then let's change the rules."

They held the next executive meeting in a private suite at a downtown hotel. No phones. No assistants. No Wi-Fi. Just printouts, files, and old-fashioned silence.

"We’re ghosts now," Nathan said. "No paper trails. No digital breadcrumbs. Until we figure out who’s feeding them intel, we move like we’re being watched."

Amelia agreed, but it still felt surreal—like she was stepping into one of those spy movies her dad used to love.

Tamara arrived last, dropping into the chair beside Amelia.

"I have a contact," she said softly. "Works in private cybersecurity. If there’s someone in the system, he can find them."

"You trust him?" Nathan asked.

"More than I trust anyone else on this board."

That said enough.

Over the next few weeks, Amelia watched everything.

Every email. Every strange look from the board. Every time someone passed her office too slowly.

Nathan was always nearby—but never too close. It was a silent agreement: they had to keep up appearances. If the leaks were coming from inside, showing unity would only invite more targeting.

Still, the tension pulled at them.

Their words were clipped. Their meetings short. Their nights? Restless.

Every night, Amelia opened her laptop and reread that single sentence:

"You trust him too easily."