~LAYLA~
I slid into the booth across from Charles, my heart hamring so hard I was sure he could hear it through the wire. Every instinct scread at to run, but I forced myself to et his eyes.
"You look tired, Layla," Charles said, studying my face.
"Let’s skip the pleasantries," I said. "You said you wanted to discuss Eclipse’s survival. So let’s talk."
Charles smiled, leaning back in his seat like a king holding court. "Always so direct. I taught you that, you know. I taught you everything that made you successful."
"You taught a lot of things," I agreed, keeping my voice neutral. "What are your terms?"
He pulled out a leather folder, sliding it across the table. "Simple, really. You sign over fifty-one percent of Eclipse Beauty to a trust controlled by . You continue as CEO, as the public face; that’s important for brand continuity. But all major decisions go through . Strategic direction, product developnt, and financial allocations. I control the company."
I stared at the papers inside the folder. Legal docunts, already prepared. He’d been so confident I’d co.
"And in exchange?" I asked.
"In exchange, I provide the exact locations of all planted evidence in your manufacturing facilities," Charles said smoothly. "Three facilities, three contamination sites. I also provide a full, docunted confession that the contamination alerts were fabricated. Your products are clean. Your company survives. Everyone wins."
"Everyone except ," I said.
"On the contrary," Charles said, his voice taking on that paternal tone I rembered from childhood. "Think of it as a partnership, Layla. I made you. I raised you, educated you at the finest schools, gave you the Watson na that opened every door in high society. Eclipse Beauty exists because of the foundation I built for you. The connections, the credibility, the opportunities, all of that ca from . Is it really so unreasonable that I benefit from your success?"
I realized with a chill that he genuinely believed this. He actually thought he was entitled to control my life because he’d "created" .
"Let think about it," I said, pretending to consider. "This is a big decision."
"Of course," Charles said magnanimously. "Take your ti. You have..." He checked his watch. "Approximately six hours before the stock market opens in Asia. After that, Eclipse’s value will have fallen so far that bankruptcy becos inevitable."
I swallowed hard. "And what about my personal life? What about Axel?"
Charles’s expression shifted, sothing darker crossing his face. "Ah yes. Your marriage. Let’s talk about that."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to sothing that almost sounded like pity. "Layla, sweetheart, do you really think a man like Axel O’Brien married you for love?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Axel O’Brien," Charles said slowly, as if explaining sothing to a child. "A ruthless corporate shark. A man known for hostile takeovers and calculated business moves. A billionaire who built an empire on strategic acquisitions and cold-blooded negotiations. Does that sound like a man who falls helplessly in love and marries on impulse?"
"You don’t know him," I said, but my voice wavered slightly.
"I know n like him," Charles continued, pressing his advantage. "They don’t make moves without strategy, without multiple layers of calculation. He had his reasons for marrying you, Layla. Twisted, calculated reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with romance or love."
"That’s not true."
"Isn’t it?" Charles tilted his head. "Think about it. What did Axel gain from marrying you? Access to Watson family connections? Social positioning? Or maybe sothing dark... maybe he saw you as damaged goods, easy to control, grateful for attention from a powerful man."
My hand tightened on the coffee cup until my knuckles went white, but I forced myself to stay calm. I reached for my bracelet, pressing the clasp once to activate full recording mode.
"So you’re saying," I spoke clearly and deliberately, "that you planted contamination evidence in Eclipse facilities to blackmail into giving you control of my company?"
Charles, caught up in his own narrative, didn’t notice the shift in my tone or the precision of my words. "Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as incentivised negotiation. I’ve been planning this for months, Layla.
"Every detail is carefully orchestrated. The contamination evidence, the timing of the crisis, all of it designed to separate you from his protection and bring you back to ."
"Back to you," I repeated. "Like I’m your property."
"Like you’re my daughter," Charles corrected, but there was steel beneath the warmth. "Everything I’ve done has been for you, to teach you that you can’t simply walk away from your family and expect no consequences."
"And Cassandra?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. "You involved your own daughter in this sche? Your biological daughter?"
Charles’s expression went cold. "Cassandra made her own choices. She’ll understand eventually that sotis we must sacrifice for the greater good. For family legacy."
He was unravelling now, his arrogance making him careless. I just needed to keep him talking.
"Walk through it," I said. "How did you pull this off? The contamination, the evidence... it’s impressive, I have to admit. Plus, if we are going to be partners, that’s the least you can do."
Charles’s ego took the bait, and went on narrate how he hired contractors to infiltrate during night shifts to plant traces of banned substances in strategic parts of each factory.
"Smart," I said, though the word tasted like poison. "All to force here," I said.
"All to bring you ho," Charles corrected. "Where you belong. Under proper guidance instead of running wild with a man who sees you as a business acquisition."
I felt Axel’s presence through the wire, imagined him listening to every word in the surveillance van. Charles had no idea how wrong he was.
He reached across the table, taking my hand in his before I could pull away. His grip was firm, almost fatherly. "So, Layla. Do we have a deal? Will you co ho where you belong?"
I looked him in the eye, seeing clearly for the first ti what he truly was. Not a father, not even a human being with normal emotions. Just a predator who’d once had control over and couldn’t accept that I’d escaped.
"No," I said quietly. "But thank you for the confession. Every word was recorded."
Charles’s smile froze on his face. For three seconds, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Then his eyes began darting around the coffee shop with sudden, frantic awareness.
He saw the "barista" at the espresso machine speaking into a concealed microphone. He saw the "custor" by the door standing at attention, hand moving toward his jacket. He saw the "couple" on their date, both turning to watch him.
"You brought them," Charles whispered, and there was genuine hurt in his voice. But the hurt lasted only a mont before hardening into pure rage. "You betrayed ."
"You can’t betray soone who was never on your side," I said coldly.
Charles moved with shocking speed for a man in his sixties. He kicked the table hard, sending it crashing into my chest and knocking the breath from my lungs.
Before I could recover, he was lunging toward the back exit, the one Tye said most people didn’t know about.
But we knew about it.
And we were ready.
Reviews
All reviews (0)