GIDEON'S POV
I stood in my office, staring through the tall glass window at the city below.
On my desk, the tablet screen glowed with the article I had read three times.
**GIDEON CROSS SURPRISE MARRIAGE — WHO IS THE MYSTERY WOMAN AND WHERE DID SHE COME FROM?**
Fifteen words.
They were picked very carefully, like one tiny drop of poison falling into a glass of clean water.
People think big fights start with punches or guns.
They don't.
Big fights start with words like these.
Small words at first.
Words that plant little seeds of doubt.
And once those seeds are planted, doubt grows really fast if you don't stop it.
"She moves fast," Marcus said from across the room.
Marcus had been my assistant for many years. He knew I didn't answer things right away. I liked to think through first.
"Not fast," I said.
I walked back to the desk. Marcus leaned forward in his chair and watched me.
"You think it's her?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "Wendy."
He nodded. "She's not the type to stay quiet."
"No, she isn't," I replied. "But this feels too soft for her. If she wanted to really hurt me, she would do something bigger. This is just the first move — putting Esther in the spotlight so people start asking questions."
Marcus frowned. "Why target Esther?"
"Because Esther is the easier one to hurt," I said quietly. "And because… she matters to me."
The room became very quiet.
Marcus looked at me for a long second. "You care about her already."
I didn't answer, some answers only make things messier.
"Watch all the news and websites," I told him. "If anything new comes out about this story, tell me right away."
"Got it," Marcus said.
"And Marcus," I added as he stood up.
He stopped at the door.
"Find out exactly who gave the story to the writer. Names, everything."
"I'll handle it," he replied.
He left and closed the door softly. The silence came back, heavier than before.
I turned back to the window and pressed my hand against the cool glass.
Esther Collins.
She was only supposed to be part of a simple contract but she kept surprising me.
She didn't just say yes to everything.
She asked hard questions that got too close.
She looked straight at me with calm, steady eyes, like she really wanted the truth — even if the truth might hurt her.
That kind of honesty was very rare and very dangerous.
It slowly chipped away at the cold, hard ice I had built around my heart.
I put the phone back in my pocket. This was not the time to get angry. This was the time to watch carefully and stay in control.
When I left my office, I decided to go home.
By the time I got back to the big house, the clock said it was past eleven. The hallways were long and very quiet — just the way I liked them. No surprises.
I walked slowly and took off my jacket. The cloth made a soft sound on my shoulders.
My footsteps made loud echoes in the empty hallway. The house felt bigger and emptier tonight. The heavy feelings from the whole day sat on my shoulders like a big rock.
As I walked toward the stairs, old memories I usually keep locked away started coming back, even though I didn't want them to.
Elena.
Her name hit me hard in the chest.
I stopped in the middle of the hallway and leaned against the wall. My little sister. God, I missed her so much, it still hurt.
I remembered Elena when she was twelve.
She was running across the grass behind our old family house. Her pigtails were bouncing up and down like crazy.
She grabbed my hand and laughed so hard she could barely breathe.
"Gideon, come on! Race me to the big tree! The loser has to carry my books for a whole week!"
I let her win, of course.
Her laugh was super bright and happy. It was the kind of laugh that made even serious me smile a little.
Back then, Elena was full of sunshine and big dreams. She talked and talked about becoming an artist. She wanted to travel to faraway places with beautiful colors I couldn't even picture.
"When I grow up, I'm going to paint the whole world!" she would say, waving her little sketchbook in the air like a flag.
She used to tease me all the time. "You're like a statue, big brother. One day I'll make you smile so big your face cracks!" Then she would poke my cheek until I pretended to be annoyed.
Our parents were still alive back then. Mom would call us in for dinner with her gentle voice. Dad would laugh from his study. The four of us felt safe and happy.
But then our parents died in a car accident on a rainy night. I was away at university. Elena was only ten. I came home right away and became her guardian. I worked hard to build a good life for both of us. I told myself it was all for her.
Elena tried to pull me back. She left little drawings on my desk with notes that said "Come home early tonight? I miss my statue brother."
I promised I would. But work always kept me late.
Then came that terrible rainy evening.
I was at the office again, busy with important papers. Elena had gone out with friends to celebrate her Sixteenth birthda.. She sent me a silly picture with ice cream on her nose and wrote "Don't work too late. Love you!"
I replied "Be safe. Home soon." Then I went back to work.
Hours later, my phone rang. A stranger's voice said there had been an accident.
A hit and run.
Those words still echo in my head like a bad curse that won't go away.
A car was speeding through the dark, rainy streets. It had no lights and no brakes. It hit Elena while she was crossing the road near the corner. Then the car just disappeared into the night. People who saw it said the driver never slowed down at all.
Elena was left lying on the cold, wet road. Rain mixed with her blood. Her little sketchbook was scattered on the ground beside her, and the pages were blowing in the wind.
I drove to the hospital like a crazy person. The rain made it hard to see through the windshield. My hands held the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turned white. I started praying words I hadn't said since I was a little kid. "Please… not her. Not Elena. Please let her be okay."
When I finally reached the hospital, the nurses rushed out to carry her inside. They moved fast, their faces serious and worried. I ran behind them, my heart pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.
Then I got to the ward where she was, the machines had gone completely quiet.
I took her small hand. It was still warm, her chest wasn't moving up and down anymore. She wasn't breathing.
The doctors talked in soft, sad voices. They said there was too much bleeding inside her body. The damage was too bad. There was nothing they could do to save her.
I sat beside her for hours and hours. I held her hand tight and whispered promises I knew I could never keep.
"I'll find them, Elena. I swear. Whoever did this to you… they won't get away with it."
The police said it was just a terrible accident. They looked for the driver, but they couldn't find any good clues. Someone important had hidden everything — they paid money to make the reports disappear. I knew it deep in my heart.
That night broke something inside me. It hurt in a way I still don't have words for.
I blamed myself every single day. If I had left work earlier… If I had picked her up myself… If I had been there to protect her like a big brother should… she would still be here. Laughing, drawing and teasing me.
Instead, at her funeral, I stood at her grave in the rain, staring at the fresh dirt. Even though I was a grown man, I cried like a baby. Tears just kept falling and I couldn't stop them. The world felt lonely for me after that. All the bright colors she loved were gone
I became cold and hard. I stopped smiling much. I stopped trusting people. I built my empire so I could have enough power to find the truth and make sure no one else lost what I lost.
But now Esther was slowly cracking that hard ice around my heart. She made me feel things I thought had died with Elena.
I pressed my forehead against the wall and closed my eyes tight. The hallway felt too quiet.
Elena's bright laugh still echoed in my memory. Her small hand in mine, the promise I made to her to protect and care for her.
Her death would not go unpunished.
Whoever took her from me — the driver, the people who covered it up, anyone who thought they could get away — I would find them.
And when I did, they would pay with everything they had.