"Send him in," Samantha said coolly, her tone smooth as glass.
The receptionist's voice crackled faintly through the intercom. "Mr. Marcus Reed to see you, Ms. Bradley."
A few seconds later, Marcus stepped through the glass doors of Elevate's top floor — a confident, dark-suited silhouette against the city skyline. His presence filled the room the way smoke did: subtle at first, then all-consuming.
Samantha rose from her chair, her expression polite but distant. "Mr. Reed. You don't usually make surprise visits."
He smiled, the kind of smile that wasn't warmth but a calculated move. "Well, I find that business becomes more honest when it's… unexpected."
"Or invasive," she countered lightly, motioning toward the seat across from her desk.
He took it without hesitation, his eyes sweeping across her office — the minimalist decor, the controlled elegance, the precise order that mirrored its owner. "You've built quite the empire here, Samantha," he said finally. "Clean, powerful, disciplined. It almost makes me forget the ashes it rose from."
Her hand stilled over her coffee cup. For the smallest fraction of a second — so slight it could've been imagined — her composure faltered.
Marcus caught it.
He leaned back in his chair, folding one leg over the other. "You see, I've always been fascinated by people who rise from ruin. It takes a particular kind of fire to rebuild when the world thinks you're finished."
Samantha's eyes narrowed, though her smile never slipped. "Ruin is relative. Some call it a setback. Others — rebirth."
He chuckled softly. "Spoken like someone who's been burned before."
She didn't answer, instead flipping open a portfolio and sliding it toward him. "You asked to discuss the joint venture terms. Let's stay focused."
But Marcus didn't look at the papers. He was still watching her.
"Tell me something, Samantha," he said slowly. "What do you think of the Carter family?"
Her pen froze. "I don't make a habit of thinking about people who don't affect my company."
"That's an evasive answer."
"It's the correct one."
Marcus's grin deepened. "Interesting. Because seven years ago, I was one of the silent investors in the Carter Group's research division. I remember their downfall vividly. Rumors, scandal, betrayal…" His gaze sharpened. "And a name that kept circling every whisper — Ally Miller."
Samantha's jaw tightened just slightly. Just enough for him to notice.
"You seem familiar with ancient history," she said, voice like velvet over ice.
"I like understanding ghosts," Marcus replied. "They tell you who the living truly are."
The air in the room shifted — subtle, electric.
"Mr. Reed," she said, leaning forward, her tone low and firm, "you may find my patience limited when conversations drift from business into… speculation."
He didn't flinch. "Touchy subject?"
"Dangerous one," she corrected, her smile returning like a blade being sheathed. "And I suggest you don't test where the edge lies."
For a beat, they stared at each other — two predators circling, testing, calculating.
Then Marcus laughed softly, breaking the tension. "You're a fascinating woman, Samantha Bradley."
"I've been called worse," she replied coolly. "Now, about the merger terms—"
He stood suddenly, ignoring the folder. "I'll review the documents later. I prefer understanding the person behind the deal first. After all…" His gaze flicked to the pen on her desk — the same one engraved with A.M. "…empires are built by people, not paper."
Samantha's pulse jumped, but her expression remained serene. "And people, Mr. Reed, are replaceable."
"Only until you meet one who isn't," he said with a slow smirk, turning toward the door. "I'll be in touch, Ms. Bradley."
When the door closed, Samantha exhaled — steady, controlled — and yet, for once, her heartbeat didn't follow her orders.
Marcus Reed knew something. Maybe not everything, but enough to be dangerous.
---
In the adjoining analysis suite, Jake's eyes darted between screens filled with numbers, transfers, and coded transactions.
"Marcus Reed," he muttered under his breath, scrolling fast. "What are you playing at?"
He'd been tracing Marcus's financial patterns since the gala. The man had a way of moving money through a maze — shell firms, holding accounts, silent partnerships. But one thread had caught Jake's attention.
An entry marked Carter Holdings – R&D Division, 7 years ago.
Jake leaned closer, reading the details. Marcus had invested a substantial sum — and pulled it out just weeks before the Carter Group's internal collapse and Ally Miller's "death."
"Damn it," Jake murmured, his jaw tightening. "This guy isn't just an opportunist. He's connected."
He grabbed his phone and sent Samantha a coded message:
Find out what Marcus really wants. He's not new to this game — he's an old player returning to the board.
---
Meanwhile, in her office down the hall, Lynn sat frozen in front of her laptop. A notification blinked at the corner of the screen: New Message – Unknown Sender.
Her hands trembled as she clicked it open.
We can save Evan's company.
All we need is Elevate's next bid proposal — before it's submitted. Deliver it, and your brother walks free of debt. Refuse, and he loses everything.
Lynn's blood ran cold. Her heart pounded as she re-read it.
They knew. Whoever it was — they knew about Evan, his debts, and her connection to Elevate.
"Oh god…" she whispered, pressing a hand to her mouth.
For a moment, she considered deleting the message, pretending it never came. But then another ping came through.
Tick-tock, Lynn. You have 48 hours.
She sat there for several long seconds, unable to breathe. Her thoughts blurred — Evan's pleading voice, Samantha's trust, her job, her loyalty.
And then — a knock.
"Lynn?"
Samantha's voice.
Lynn quickly minimized the screen and turned. "Yes, ma'am?"
Samantha entered, a coffee cup in hand. "You've been awfully quiet today."
"I—I'm fine. Just going over schedules."
Samantha studied her. Every inch of her expression calm, but her eyes — sharp, searching. "You know what I said once, Lynn? Don't lose your balance."
Lynn forced a nervous smile. "I haven't."
Samantha tilted her head slightly, as if weighing the lie. "Good. Because storms are coming."
Then she left — the door clicking shut softly behind her.
Lynn sat there, shaking.
She opened the message again. Her brother's name. The threat. The choice.
Her chest tightened until she could barely breathe.
"Forgive me," she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. "Please, just forgive me…"
---
At the same time, Jake walked into Samantha's office, dropping a file on her desk. "We have a problem."
Samantha looked up. "If this is about Marcus—"
"It's about Marcus," he cut in. "He's not new. He was a silent investor in Carter Group's research division before it collapsed."
Her eyes sharpened. "How deep?"
"Deep enough that he might've known what caused it to fall."
Samantha leaned back, the pieces starting to click in her mind.
Marcus. The Carters. Ally's downfall. Her rebirth.
It wasn't coincidence. It was a pattern — one she hadn't seen until now.
"Jake," she said finally, her tone low, dangerous, "find out everything. I want every thread — who he paid, who he called, who he watched burn."
Jake nodded, jaw tight. "And if he's connected to your accident—"
"Then Marcus Reed," she interrupted, eyes cold as steel, "has no idea what kind of fire he just walked into."
Outside, the city lights flickered on — a thousand bright lies over hidden shadows.
Inside, Samantha stood at the window, her reflection burning against the glass. She didn't know it yet, but Marcus had just pulled the first thread of a web that would test not only her empire, but her heart — and loyalty itself.
And in another corner of that web, Lynn, trembling and terrified, was about to make a choice that would change everything.