THE DEVIL FIANCE

CHAPTER 4: MOVING IN

I didn’t sleep in the guest room.

After Dahlia got that call, she looked at me like I was Victor with better shoes.

“Board meeting at 8 AM. Be ready,” she said, then shut her bedroom door.

I stayed on the couch.

At 5:01 AM I heard the shower. One bathroom. Right.

By 6 AM we were in the kitchen in silence. Her in a black suit. Me in yesterday’s dress shirt. Neither of us mentioned the envelope. Or midnight.

Her phone buzzed.

FROM: PR TEAM

TABLOIDS PICKING UP "COHABITATION" STORY. KEEP APPEARANCES.

“We leave at 20,” she said.

In the car she finally spoke. “You didn’t send that photo.”

“No,” I said.

“Victor did. He was here.”

She looked at me. “If you lie to me, I’ll know.”

“I’m not lying.”

At Cross Tower, she took my hand for the cameras.

The boardroom was glass and ice. 12 people who looked at me like dirt.

“Mr. Hart, wait outside,” the Chairman said.

Dahlia squeezed my hand. “I’ll handle it.”

47 minutes later the doors opened.

“Ms. Cross retains her position. Provisionally,” the Chairman said. “We will be monitoring the relationship closely.” His eyes cut to me. “Closely, Mr. Hart.”

Back at the penthouse, the envelope was still on the island. 6 hours till midnight.

Dahlia went to her office. I heard her on sharp, angry calls.

At 9 PM she came out. Hair down. No jacket.

“You’re still here.”

“Where else would I go?”

She poured two glasses of water and heated takeout. We ate in silence.

At 10:30 I broke. “What happens at midnight?”

“Victor sends the files. Stock drops. The board fires me.”

“And me?”

“You become the villain in every headline.”

“Let me talk to him.”

“No. He doesn’t want an explanation. He wants you gone.”

She looked exhausted. Not The Devil in Heels. Just cornered.

11:45. Her phone buzzed. UNKNOWN

She put it on speaker.

Victor’s voice filled the kitchen. “Tick tock, Dahlia. Where’s the assistant?”

“He’s here.”

“Good. Tell him to pack. I’ll only leak half the files if he’s out by 12:05.”

My chest went tight.

“And if he doesn’t?” Dahlia asked.

“Then I send everything. Hospital. Tuition. The contract. The photo of him in your bedroom. Pick your poison.”

Click.

11:57.

Dahlia stood in front of me. “Elias. If you want to leave, now’s the time.”

I thought of my dad’s machines. My sister’s tuition letter.

I thought of Dahlia at 2 AM in this kitchen, running on nothing.

“I’m not leaving.”

Something moved in her eyes. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t throw me to them in the boardroom.”

She reached up and fixed my collar. Her fingers were cold.

“Okay. Then we don’t run.”

12:00.

Her phone lit up. NEW EMAIL: 12 ATTACHMENTS.

She set it face-down.

“Let them,” she whispered. “I’m done being scared of him.”

For the first time she looked 24, not 40.

At 12:15 another buzz.

FROM: BOARD CHAIRMAN

EMERGENCY MEETING. 8 AM. ATTENDANCE MANDATORY.

“They saw it,” she said. “All of it.”

“I need a shower,” she said. “And I need you out of the kitchen when I come out.”

She went to her room.

10 minutes later I heard it.

Not water.

Crying.

Quiet. Like she was trying to muffle it in a towel.

Contract rules said don’t cross the line.

But she sounded like she was breaking.

FtI knocked. “Dahlia?”

No answer.

I pushed the door open a crack.

She was on the edge of the bed. Towel. Hair dripping.

And she wasn’t alone.

On the dresser, next to the turned-down photos, a tablet was playing.

It was me.

Earlier today.

In this room.

Opening her drawer.

The angle was from the ceiling corner.

A camera.

Hidden in her bedroom.

Dahlia looked up. Eyes red.

“How long has it been there, Elias?”

I was shocked…. There’s a hidden camera in Dahlia’s bedroom… and the footage makes me look guilty.