Christina’s POV
I’d been staring at the Marchands’ number on my phone for three days. My palms were sweaty, heart hamring like I was about to leap off a skyscraper without a parachute.
"Just call them already," Akira urged inside my head. "We’ve faced worse than a phone conversation."
"Easy for you to say. You’re not the one making the call," I muttered, finally hitting the dial button.
When Françoise Marchand answered, her voice was warm and polite until I ntioned Lea Lopez. Then it turned to ice faster than a werewolf could sll blood.
"Why are you calling about her?" she snapped, her accent thickening with emotion.
I gripped the phone tighter. "I need to tell you sothing. And I think you’ve suspected it for so ti."
A pause stretched between us. "Go on," she finally said, caution lacing every syllable.
"I know what Lea did to Pierre. She fabricated the abuse claims. Pierre never hurt her. She forced the divorce with lies because she wanted out and wanted to be with Hudson. Pierre was just an inconvenient obstacle."
I heard Françoise’s breath catch in sothing between a gasp and a muffled sob before anger hardened her voice.
"We always thought sothing was wrong with that story. Pierre never raised a hand to her. He worshipped that woman, that was the real tragedy. And she destroyed him."
The phone rustled and a deeper voice cut in. Antoine Marchand’s tone rumbled like thunder. "Do you have proof of this?"
"Not the kind that would stand up in court," I admitted, slouching back in my chair. "But I know people who can verify everything. Forr allies of Lea’s who witnessed her manipulation firsthand. And she’s using identical tactics here in Highrise City by threatening city officials and trying to dismantle Laurent Global Holdings piece by piece." And hunting Hudson like he’s so trophy to be claid, I added silently.
The silence on the line felt heavy, loaded. Then Antoine spoke, his voice dangerously low. "What exactly do you want from us?"
"I’m not after money or favors," I said quickly. "I want Lea out of Highrise City. You still have substantial influence in Europe. If you apply pressure to her businesses there, create so noise, she’ll have to return. She can’t fight battles on multiple fronts."
Françoise’s voice returned, stronger now, almost gleeful. "Oh, we can do much more than make noise. She has many enemies. She believes she buried them, but they’ll erge once they sll vulnerability. If she thinks she can continue bleeding us with her lies, she’s gravely mistaken."
"Consider it done," Antoine added. "Truth be told, we’d already begun taking action before your call."
When I hung up, I was trembling not from fear, but from pure relief. This was my first real counterstrike.
"You did well," Akira purred. "That woman destroyed lives. It’s ti she faced consequences."
Four days later, the ripple effects reached Highrise City. What started as whispers quickly amplified into shouts echoing through business circles. Titanova’s European division suddenly faced multiple lawsuits in Paris. A major supplier in Milan terminated their partnership. Banks began "reassessing" credit lines.
Within a week, Lea’s reputation was in tatters across every financial publication worth reading.
Then ca the real bombshell: Lea Lopez spotted at Highrise International Airport, boarding a flight to Eindhoven.
I nearly dropped my coffee when I saw the photos on my news feed. She actually left.
"Holy shit, it worked," I whispered to myself.
I imdiately dialed Haldane. He answered on the second ring, his voice clipped and wary. "Miss Vance. This isn’t a convenient ti."
"Actually, it’s the perfect ti," I replied, unable to keep the satisfaction from my voice. "Lea’s gone. She’s flying back to Europe as we speak. You don’t need to do her dirty work anymore."
The silence that followed was thick enough to cut with a knife. Then ca a tired sigh.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," he muttered unconvincingly.
"Yes, you do," I countered. "She blackmailed you. She had dirt on you. I’m not here to judge your choices, but I am telling you that her grip on you is broken. You don’t owe her anything now. She won’t be returning to Highrise City anyti soon. Withdraw the moratorium before it completely tanks the city’s economy."
I heard a scraping sound, like he’d pushed his chair back. His voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "You don’t understand the ss I’m caught in."
"Actually, I do," I said firmly. "Rember? I know about the shady land deals. The shell companies. Even that affair you thought nobody noticed. You think Lea’s the only one with power to expose you? She’s not. But unlike her, I’m not trying to destroy you. I’m offering you an exit strategy."
Another heavy silence followed. "She promised she’d bury ," he finally said, his voice hoarse.
"She can’t bury you from Eindhoven if you move quickly," I pointed out. "This is your chance to walk away relatively unscathed. Withdraw the moratorium. Retire early. Disappear with your pension and whatever dignity you can salvage. That’s your best option right now. Take it."
He exhaled so heavily I could almost feel his resignation through the phone.
"I’ll do it," he finally conceded. "I’ll schedule a press briefing for tomorrow. And then I’m done with all this. I’ll be gone before the week ends."
I hung up and collapsed back into my chair, pressing both hands to my face. The tension I’d been carrying for weeks finally started to dissolve.
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