Masks and Mirrors
833 Words
Alina awoke the morning after the gala to a buzzing phone and a dozen new emails. Her social feed was on fire—photos from the gala, captions dripping with speculation.
Who is the mystery girl in black?
Alina West makes waves at West Foundation Gala.
Sources say Camille West is no longer the face of West Corp.
She sipped her coffee with a small smile. Let them talk. Let them guess.
She had no intention of fading back into the background.
Damien sent a text: Call me. Something’s up.
She dialed immediately.
“I decrypted another file on the drive,” he said. “It’s… big. Bray wasn’t acting alone.”
“Who else?”
“Riley Ford. West Corp’s legal head.”
Alina froze. Riley had always been at the periphery—a quiet, watchful man with kind eyes.
“He signed off on the autopsy edits,” Damien continued. “There’s more, but you need to see it in person.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
---
Meanwhile – Camille’s Office
Camille stared at the news article on her screen. The headline felt like a slap.
Alina West: The Future of West Corp?
She slammed her laptop shut. Nicholas sat on the couch, scrolling his phone.
“She’s gaining traction,” he said without looking up.
“Don’t remind me.”
Nicholas tossed the phone aside. “Maybe it’s time to back off. Let her burn herself out.”
Camille rounded on him. “You think she’s going to self-destruct? She’s smarter than you give her credit for.”
“Then maybe it’s time to let go.”
“You don’t get to tell me that,” Camille snapped. “You don’t get to pretend like this doesn’t affect you.”
He stood. “It doesn’t. Not anymore.”
She scoffed. “Right. Because you’re still in love with her.”
His silence was confirmation.
Camille’s voice dropped to a whisper. “She’ll ruin you.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You already did.”
---
Damien’s Apartment – Uncovering the Truth
Alina scanned the screen. Emails from Riley Ford to Leonard Bray, dating back almost a decade. Hidden contracts. Internal memos.
“Bray was promised a seat on the board in exchange for keeping the autopsy quiet,” Damien explained.
Alina’s stomach twisted. “And Riley?”
“Protecting the company. Or so he claims. There’s even a clause in the corporate by-laws that gives legal immunity to executives if ‘acting in interest of corporate preservation.’”
She shook her head. “That’s not preservation. That’s betrayal.”
Damien hesitated. “There’s one more thing.”
He opened a folder labeled CAMILLE. Inside were call logs and message transcripts. One name popped up repeatedly: Monica Vale.
Alina’s jaw tightened. “The reporter?”
“Camille’s been leaking stories. Smearing you behind the scenes. Planting false leads about your father’s business deals.”
A cold calm settled over Alina. “Then it’s time I talk to Monica myself.”
---
The Confrontation – Monica’s Office, Downtown
Monica Vale’s office was all glass and white marble. Sleek. Untouchable.
But Alina didn’t knock. She walked straight in.
Monica looked up from her desk, unfazed. “Alina West. I’ve been expecting you.”
“Cut the crap,” Alina said. “You’ve been writing lies about my family for years. You’ve used Camille as your source, and now you’re going to tell me why.”
Monica folded her hands. “Because the truth doesn’t sell. Scandal does. And Camille knows how to feed it to me.”
“You’re a parasite.”
“I’m a realist. You want to fight Camille? Then you’ll need me.”
Alina blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I can make you look like a victim. Or a vixen. I can spin your story into whatever version of truth you want. But it’ll cost you.”
“I’m not interested in manipulation.”
“Then you’ve already lost.”
Alina turned to leave but paused. “You think Camille’s your ally? When she’s done with you, she’ll bury you, too.”
Monica didn’t respond.
---
West Corp Boardroom – Strategic Moves
Gregory sat at the head of the long, polished table. Alina, Camille, and four other board members flanked the sides.
“The South Marina Initiative is on the table,” Gregory began. “Alina will present.”
Camille’s nostrils flared. “Why not both of us?”
Alina smiled sweetly. “Because I actually believe in the project.”
Camille opened her mouth, but Gregory raised a hand. “Enough.”
Alina clicked the remote. The lights dimmed. A sleek presentation lit the screen—renderings of the marina, financial forecasts, environmental benefits.
She spoke clearly, confidently. Every line polished. Every answer sharp.
When she finished, silence fell.
Then applause.
“Well done,” said Gregory. “Proposal approved.”
Camille’s jaw twitched.
Alina leaned over and whispered, “Checkmate.”
- Writer
