CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
677 Words
Chapter Forty-Three
The morning air in Nivida was deceptively calm. Sunlight streamed through the tall glass panes, reflecting across polished floors and bustling employees. Yet beneath the surface, tension coiled like a snake ready to strike.
Briella entered the boardroom first, Clara trailing behind her with a quiet efficiency that had quickly become indispensable. Today’s agenda was routine—market updates, project expansions, pending negotiations—but Briella’s sharp eyes caught every detail, every interaction, as though she were hunting for invisible threads.
Marcellus arrived a moment later, flanked by Grace. She held a leather-bound folder in her hands, the perfect picture of loyalty and professionalism. But Briella saw it now—the way Grace hovered too close, spoke too quickly when Marcellus asked for information, always making herself the bridge between him and everyone else.
The meeting began. Figures were exchanged, presentations made, strategies debated. At one point, when Briella asked a question about pending overseas negotiations, Grace jumped in before Marcellus could answer.
“I’ve already prepared the projections, Ms. Tristan,” Grace said smoothly, sliding a document across the table. “Mr. Cedric approved them just last night.”
Briella’s brows arched. “Interesting. Because I distinctly remember Marcellus asking me to finalize those numbers this morning.” She turned, meeting Marcellus’s gaze directly. “Did you approve them?”
Marcellus frowned faintly, glancing at the paper Grace had offered. “No. I hadn’t seen this draft before.”
The silence that followed was sharp. Clara kept her head down, furiously typing minutes, though she caught the faintest curl of satisfaction tugging at Briella’s lips.
“Perhaps,” Briella said evenly, “we should ensure documents are not circulated prematurely. Especially without full approval.”
Grace’s smile didn’t falter, but her grip on the folder tightened. “Of course, Ms. Tristan. My only goal is to ease the process.”
“Ease is not accuracy,” Briella replied, her tone smooth but laced with steel.
The rest of the meeting proceeded, though the undercurrent never faded. By the time it ended, Grace’s composure had cracked ever so slightly. She stood stiffly at Marcellus’s side as he discussed follow-ups with Briella.
When the room finally cleared, Clara leaned close to Briella and whispered, “That was bold, ma’am. She nearly trapped him into confirming a false report.”
Briella’s expression hardened. “And she would have succeeded if I wasn’t paying attention. Keep noting everything, Clara. She’s playing a dangerous game—and she’s underestimating me.”
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That evening, Briella stayed late at the office. Papers were scattered across her desk, her pen tapping absently as she reviewed contracts. A knock came at the door.
“Come in,” she said without looking up.
Marcellus stepped inside, his jacket slung casually over his arm. “You’re still here?”
Briella gave a faint smile. “So are you.”
He chuckled softly, setting his jacket on the chair. “Fair enough. But you looked like you wanted to bite Grace’s head off today.”
Her eyes lifted, calm but sharp. “I don’t like interference. And I especially don’t like anyone trying to use you as a shield to get to me.”
Marcellus’s gaze lingered on her, thoughtful. “Do you really think she’s capable of that?”
Briella leaned back in her chair, fingers drumming against the armrest. “Capable? She already tried. The only question is why.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Marcellus crossed his arms, studying her. “You’re not wrong. Something about her… it’s been off lately. But if she is hiding something, we’ll find it. Together.”
Briella allowed herself a small, genuine smile. “That’s exactly what I was counting on.”
Neither of them noticed the shadow just outside the glass wall—Grace, her silhouette barely visible in the dim office light, her phone clenched in her hand. She stood motionless, listening to nothing and everything at once, before slipping silently away into the night.
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✨ End of Chapter Forty-Three ✨
- Writer
