Miranda
The board was circling like sharks, and I loved every second of it.
I stood by the wide lounge window, coffee warm in my hands, watching the quiet panic ripple through Wolfe Enterprises. Whispers followed Eva Sinclair like shadows now—soft words, sharp glances, exchanged in hushed corners. Heads turned when she walked by.
Finally, I thought, letting the coffee touch my lips, the golden girl is slipping.
Little Miss Perfect, with her fake sweet voice and wide innocent eyes, was finally showing cracks.
But there was a problem.
The investigation wasn't going the way I wanted.
"I reviewed the logs myself," Arthur Lowell had muttered earlier this morning, voice low and cautious. "Some details don't add up… It's possible the data points somewhere else."
My jaw had clenched so tight, I thought I might break a tooth.
Katherine planted enough fake trails to bury Eva twice over. It should've been easy—a clean takedown. But no, the board was hesitant. Doubting. All because of Damien.
I didn't need to guess. He was protecting her. That much was clear.
I let my eyes drift across the room now, straight to him. Damien Wolfe. The man everyone feared. The man I… well, still wanted, even now.
Tall. Sharp black suit. Cool as ice. But not today.
Today, his focus was off. His eyes were elsewhere—specifically glued to her.
Eva.
She stood by the far wall, flipping through a file, pretending not to notice the storm building around her. But Damien noticed. His gaze locked onto her like she was the only thing in the room that mattered.
My stomach twisted with something sharp and ugly.
Enough of this.
I set my coffee down gently, straightened my skirt, and walked toward him with steady steps, my heels clicking softly across the floor.
Damien didn't look up when I slid into the seat beside him, but his fingers stilled on the rim of his glass.
"Damien," I said, my voice smooth as silk, layered with concern. "You've barely touched your food."
"I'm not hungry," he replied, his eyes still wandering across the room… straight to her.
I forced a smile, swallowing the jealousy sitting like acid in my throat.
"You should be careful with her," I said lightly, dragging my nail along the edge of his glass.
"Careful with who?" His tone was flat, distracted. His eyes, still on Eva.
I leaned in a little, lowering my voice like we were sharing something private. "The intern. Eva."
His eyes finally flicked to mine. Cold. Guarded.
Good. At least now I had his attention.
"I know you care about her," I continued softly, keeping my tone laced with fake warmth, "but there's talk. The board… the investigation…"
His jaw tensed. "What talk?"
I gave a small, careful shrug, letting out a sigh. "You've seen the emails, the rumors… The leaks. Damien, it doesn't look good." I let my voice waver just enough, eyes softening. "And I know how much you hate betrayal."
He stared at me, unreadable. Silent.
But I could feel the walls going up, brick by brick, between us.
Then, as if I wasn't sitting right beside him, his gaze shifted again—back to Eva.
My chest tightened.
"She's not who you think she is," I tried again, the words coming out soft, almost pleading. "You deserve honesty. Loyalty. Someone who's always been on your side."
I let the words settle between us, heavy with meaning.
Me. I've always been here. You just refuse to see it.
But Damien didn't bite. He sipped his drink, his eyes fixed on Eva like she was some riddle he couldn't solve.
"She denies everything," he said finally, his voice cool. "And the evidence? It's not holding up."
I leaned forward slightly, keeping my expression composed. "Sometimes… the people closest to us fool us the easiest." My voice dropped lower. "Don't let her fool you, Damien."
For a moment, I thought maybe—just maybe—he heard me. His hand twitched on the glass, his lips pressed into a line.
But then Eva laughed softly across the room, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
And Damien's eyes… they softened.
Fury lit up my chest like fire, but I forced it down, covering it with a careful smile.
"Look," I said sweetly, reaching out to touch his arm, my fingers brushing against his sleeve. "I care about you, Damien. I always have." I let my hand linger. "If you ever need to talk… or need someone you can trust, you know where to find me."
I stood up smoothly before he could respond. He didn't stop me.
But he didn't agree either.
The minute I stepped into Katherine's office, I shut the door behind me harder than intended.
"He's still protecting her," I snapped, pacing across the room. "We need to push harder."
Katherine barely glanced up from her desk, calm and cool, tapping away on her laptop. "I figured as much."
"Then why isn't she gone yet? Why isn't he seeing this for what it is?" My hands balled into fists at my sides.
Katherine finally closed her laptop, standing to face me, adjusting the sleeves of her navy-blue suit. "Because Damien doesn't panic. He calculates."
I clenched my jaw so tight it hurt. "He's calculating how to keep her safe."
"Exactly why we escalate." Katherine's voice was steady, sharp, dangerous.
I took a step closer, my heart pounding with frustration. "What's the next move?"
Her lips curled, eyes gleaming. "We plant more. Stronger trails. Real-time access logs. Financial holes. Enough that even Damien can't look the other way."
"And if that's not enough?" I asked, though hope was already crawling back into my chest.
"It will be." Katherine's smile turned colder. "No one survives drowning in constant suspicion. Not even her."
A shaky breath left my lips, tension loosening—but the jealousy, the bitterness, that stayed.
Eva wasn't going to win. Not again. Not with those wide, fake eyes and that helpless little act.
I've worked too hard for my place in this company—and in Damien's life.
I wasn't going down to another naïve, doe-eyed intern worming her way into his heart.
"Good," I whispered, my voice sharp with resolve. "Because I'm tired of watching him look at her like that."
Katherine's smile stretched wider, sharp as glass. "Then let's make sure he never does again."