~LAYLA~
"aning we stop waiting for them to make the next move. We go on the offensive."
"That’s dangerous," Tye said. "The Sinaloa aren’t people you attack directly."
"Then we don’t attack them directly. We attack the problem at its source... Charles. He’s the one who stole their money and frad us. He’s the one who started all of this. If we can prove to the Sinaloa that Charles took their money, then we let them deal with him."
Tye leaned forward, interest sparking in his eyes. "You want to turn the Sinaloa against Charles?"
"That’s actually brilliant," Axel said slowly. "If we can prove Charles took the money..."
"Then the Sinaloa’s target shifts from us to him," Tye finished.
"Exactly."
Silence fell again as they processed the plan.
"There’s just one problem," Axel said. "We don’t know where Charles is hiding his stolen money. We’ve been looking for weeks and found nothing."
"Then we look harder. We dig deeper. We use every resource we have." I took Axel’s hand. "Because the alternative is living the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders, waiting for the Sinaloa to decide we’ve run out of ti."
Tye nodded slowly. "She’s right. We can’t keep playing defence."
"So we go on offence," Axel agreed. "We find the proof, clear our nas, and end this."
"Together," I added.
"Together," they echoed.
I leaned back against the couch, my mind already racing with possibilities. We had a plan now. A direction. It was dangerous, maybe even reckless, but it was better than sitting around waiting to be killed.
"So," Tye said, breaking into my thoughts. "Where do we start?"
—
Monday morning hit like a tidal wave.
The mont I stepped through the office’s glass doors, the lobby erupted into organised chaos. Balloons in every colour bobbed against the ceiling, and banners stretched across the walls reading "WELCO BACK!" and "WE MISSED YOU!"
Staff mbers burst into applause, surrounding with hugs and excited chatter.
"Mrs. O’Brien!"
"You’re back!"
"We’re so glad you’re safe!"
"Thank you all," I said, my voice catching slightly. "Really. Thank you."
Helena appeared at my elbow, her professional mask firmly in place but her eyes warm. "Good morning, ma’am. Ready for the circus?"
"Define circus."
She gestured toward the elevator. "Your office might be... slightly overwhelming."
That was an understatent.
When I opened my office door, I stopped short. Every surface was covered with flowers. Roses in every shade imaginable, lilies, orchids, sunflowers, and arrangents ranging from elegant to extravagant.
Gift baskets filled with chocolates and wine bottles lined the floor. Handwritten cards were stacked on my desk in precarious towers.
"Helena," I said slowly, "this is insane."
"I tried to warn you." She followed in, setting down her tablet. "Every major beauty retailer sent sothing. Your investors. Business partners. Even so competitors sent congratulations on surviving."
"Surviving?" I laughed despite myself. "Is that what we’re calling it?"
"It’s all over the news: ’Eclipse Beauty CEO Survives Kidnapping.’ Orders have gone up forty per cent since the story broke."
I sank into my chair, overwheld. "People bought more makeup because I was kidnapped?"
"People buy into stories. You’re not just a CEO anymore; you’re a survivor. A fighter. That resonates."
"Then, I should probably allow myself to get kidnapped more often."
We both erupted into laughter. Helena started organising the flowers into groups. "Want to help sort through all this?"
"Please. I can’t even see my desk."
We worked together for the next thirty minutes. Helena arranged the more personal bouquets on my credenza while moving the larger corporate arrangents to the conference room.
She read cards aloud, sorting them into categories: clients, vendors, staff, and personal.
"This one’s sweet," Helena said, holding up a card with hand-drawn flowers. "From the warehouse team. Says, ’You’re unstoppable, boss lady. Don’t ever change.’"
"Save that one."
"And this..." She paused, eyebrows rising. "This is from a Victoria. She said you both t in a retreat?"
"Oh... Victoria. Yeah, I know her. What does it say?"
"’Glad you’re safe. You were right about everything. –V’" Helena looked at questioningly.
"Long story. Save that one too."
My phone rang. Axel’s na flashed on the screen.
"Hey," I answered. "Miss already?"
"Always. But I’m actually calling because the board wants an ergency eting this afternoon. Three PM."
"About?"
"Having international factories for Eclipse Beauty products. They believe it would help with fulfilling orders in ti overseas."
I glanced at Helena, who was making notes on her tablet. "I can make that work. Send the details?"
"Already did. Love you."
"Love you too."
I hung up to find Helena grinning. "You two are awfully cute now."
"We have our monts." I stood, stretching. "Okay, what else is on today’s agenda?"
"Production reports at ten. Viral demand forecast at eleven-thirty. HR wants to discuss new hires at one. Then your board eting at three."
"So basically a normal Monday."
"Except for the kidnapping recovery part."
"Minor detail."
The afternoon blurred into a succession of etings. Production reports showed we were ahead of schedule despite my absence... Helena and Henry had kept everything running smoothly.
The viral demand forecast predicted we’d hit 200,000 orders daily by month’s end. HR presented a slate of impressive candidates for the expansion.
By the ti 5:47 PM rolled around, I was exhausted but satisfied. We were not just surviving; we were thriving.
Helena poked her head into my office. "Last delivery of the day."
"More flowers?" I groaned. "Where am I supposed to put them?"
"Not flowers this ti." She set a sleek black box on my desk. "This ca by special courier. No card attached to the outside."
The box was elegant, wrapped in matte black paper and tied with a shiny silver ribbon. There were no company logos or return addresses, just my na neatly written on a small tag.
"That’s... different," Helena said, frowning. "Want to open it?"
"No, I’ve got it. You can head ho. It’s been a long day."
"You sure?"
"Positive. Thank you for everything today. I couldn’t have managed without you."
She smiled. "That’s what I’m here for. See you tomorrow, boss lady."
After she left, I sat staring at the box for a long mont. Sothing about it felt off. The expensive presentation, the anonymous delivery, the timing.
I pulled the ribbon loose and lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled in black velvet, was a diamond tennis bracelet. The stones sparkled beautifully, casting rainbow colours all over my desk. It was absolutely gorgeous and over-the-top, but it definitely wasn’t from anyone I’d expect gifts from.
Or was it from Axel?
A small card lay beneath the bracelet, so I picked it up to see if it gave any clue to who had sent this.
The ssage was written in the sa calligraphy text as my na: "Wear this to our next dance. – M"
M.
If it were an A, I’d have known it was Axel, but M?
M.
Marco?
My heart raced, and my mouth felt dry. How did he know where to send this? How did he get past security? And what on earth did he an by "our next dance"?
I set the card down like it might burn , staring at the bracelet. It had to be worth thousands... tens of thousands, maybe. This wasn’t a casual gift; it was a statent... a claim.
My phone buzzed on the desk, making jump. Unknown number.
I knew who it was before I even answered. "Hello?"
"Miss , Mrs O’Brien?" Marco’s voice dripped playfully from the other end of the phone.
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