Eva
The boardroom felt colder today.
The walls were the same sleek glass. The polished table still stretched down the center. But the looks? The tension? That was new. Heavy.
I sat near the far end, hands clasped tightly in my lap, trying to ignore the sharp stares cutting across the room.
For the third—maybe fourth—time this week, they were questioning me. The same accusations. The same half-baked evidence. And I was tired. So, so tired.
"Miss Sinclair," Arthur Lowell's voice broke the silence, calm but sharp like a knife, "let me ask you again—did you or did you not access confidential financial data outside of your clearance level?"
My heartbeat thudded in my ears. I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to stay steady.
"I already answered," I said, lifting my chin. "No, I didn't. I've followed every protocol."
Arthur's eyes narrowed behind his gold-rimmed glasses, but I held my ground.
You've been preparing for this, I reminded myself. You knew it was coming.
Next to him, Katherine sat silent, perfectly poised, watching me with that cool, fake smile. Miranda wasn't far, arms crossed, looking like she couldn't wait to see me fall.
But it was Damien I noticed most.
He leaned back in his chair, unreadable expression on his face. His eyes drifted from the files in front of him to me—and lingered.
For a second, the storm in my chest paused.
His gaze wasn't cold like the others. It wasn't harsh.
It was curious. Careful. Almost… protective?
What are you thinking? I wondered.
"Your system logs suggest otherwise," Arthur continued, tapping a folder on the table.
I clenched my fists beneath the table. That folder held doctored evidence—I was sure of it. Luca told me as much when we met.
But I couldn't explain that to the board. Not without exposing everything.
I steadied my breath. "If there's been a breach, it wasn't from me. Someone's trying to frame me."
The room shifted with quiet murmurs.
Katherine's smile barely twitched.
Arthur adjusted his glasses. "Convenient defense."
Before I could speak again, Damien's voice cut in, calm but firm.
"We're not making final decisions based on incomplete information," he said, eyes still on me. "We'll continue the investigation."
A flicker of relief pulsed through me. His words were neutral—but his gaze wasn't.
That confused me more than anything.
After the meeting, I gathered my files, ready to escape the room.
Later, Damien reached out, passing me a sealed folder.
His hand brushed mine—light, barely there—but it sparked through my skin like static.
My eyes shot up, meeting his.
That same quiet look. Questioning. Watching me too closely.
"Stay sharp," he murmured under his breath, low enough that only I heard.
I nodded stiffly, my heart a chaotic mess.
I should hate him. He was the reason I was in this mess, indirectly—the man my mother loved, the man who discarded her, the man I swore to bring down.
But it was getting harder to keep my heart in line with my plan.
Later that afternoon, I paced the floor in the lounge, Luca's voice playing in my head from our last meeting.
"The pressure's building. You're one slip away from losing everything, Eva. You want to clear your name? You want the truth? Then give me more access."
I chewed my lip, staring at my work bag where the company-issued laptop sat.
It was risky. Stupid, even. But what choice did I have?
Expose Katherine. Protect myself. Uncover the truth.
Even if it meant sinking deeper into this dangerous game.
I grabbed my phone and texted Luca: "You'll get your access."
My fingers hovered for a second before hitting send.
My chest tightened as the message delivered.
I wasn't sure who I was protecting anymore.
Myself? My mother's memory? Damien?
Or maybe… all three.
But one thing was certain—the pressure was building, and sooner or later, something would break.