Chapter 216 - 215 We Have A Contract
EMILY
The silence inside the luxury sedan weighs a thousand pounds. The rain pounds against the windshield in a relentless rhythm, mocking the absolute stillness between us. Alistair keeps his hand firmly wrapped around mine. His skin radiates a steady, solid heat. We are parked on a quiet side street now. He pulled the car over right after his confession, completely abandoning the route back to the Wolfe estate.
I look down at our intertwined fingers. My pulse beats a rapid, heavy tempo in my wrists. I slowly pull my hand away. The loss of his warmth immediately sends a chill over my skin. I fold my hands securely in my lap and turn my head to face him.
"You are forgetting a few crucial details, Alistair." I keep my voice measured. "We have a contract. A very thick, highly specific legal document defining the exact boundaries of this marriage."
Alistair turns fully toward me in the driver seat. The glow from a nearby streetlamp cuts through the rainy window, highlighting the sharp, aristocratic lines of his jaw and the straight bridge of his nose. He wears a bespoke charcoal suit that fits perfectly across his broad shoulders. He looks like a man accustomed to giving orders and having the world bend to his will. Right now, he just looks desperate.
"Contracts can be voided," he replies. He watches my face with intense, unblinking focus.
"You are also forgetting the ghost." I lift my chin. "You have Kiki."
He flinches. The mention of her name strips away a layer of his icy CEO armor. He runs a hand through his dark hair, ruining the meticulous styling.
"I do not have her," he says. The words are ragged. "I have a memory of her. A shadow in the freezing rain."
"You love her," I remind him. "You told me you were searching for her. You told me you would never stop."
Alistair lets out a heavy breath. He leans back against the leather headrest and stares at the ceiling of the car for a long moment. The engine idles quietly beneath us. He finally turns his gaze back to me. His dark eyes carry a raw, unguarded weight.
"She saved my life in the Blackwood Gorge," he explains. "I was blind, paralyzed, and bleeding out. She stayed with me. She kept me warm. She gave me hope when I had absolutely nothing left. My feelings for her are tangled up in an enormous debt of gratitude. She is a symbol of salvation."
He shifts closer. The crisp scent of his cologne mixes with the smell of the damp night air.
𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦
"But you are here, Emily." He points a long finger at the space between us. "You are real. You stand up to my aunt. You fight for your friends. You look at me with absolute defiance every single time I try to dictate your life. You saved my grandmother, and you saved my niece. You are completely terrifying, and I cannot stop thinking about you."
I press my lips tightly together. A massive thrill shoots straight down my spine. The great Alistair Wolfe is sitting in a parked car, pouring his heart out like a regular man. I want to smile. I want to lean across the center console and close the distance. I force myself to remain perfectly still. Survival in the Sang family taught me to guard my heart at all costs. I cannot afford to dive blindly into a romance with the most powerful man in Asuir City.
"You want to pursue me," I state the facts plainly.
"I want a real chance," Alistair says. He reaches out again, stopping just inches from my hand. He asks for permission with his eyes. "No contractual obligations. No pressure. Let me show you that I am serious."
I look at his outstretched hand. I think about the cold, lonely years I spent fighting for every scrap of respect. I think about Song Jinnian and the bitter sting of betrayal. Then I look at Alistair. He is offering transparency.
I reach out and place my hand over his. He exhales sharply, his shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch.
"We take this slowly," I tell him. I squeeze his fingers. "We let things develop naturally. I have a business to launch, and I have medical studies to begin. You have a global tech empire to run. We do not rush this."
Alistair turns his hand over, linking his fingers with mine once more. A genuine smile breaks across his face. It transforms him completely, erasing the intimidating billionaire and leaving behind a stunningly handsome man.
"Slowly," he agrees. "I can do slowly."
He shifts the car into drive and pulls smoothly back onto the main road. The rain continues to pour, but the heavy tension inside the cabin has completely evaporated. I lean my head against the cool glass of the passenger window. A genuine smile finally escapes my lips, hidden in the shadows of the night.
NAYA
The air inside the Sapphire Lounge smells of expensive cigars and desperation. I sit in a private booth at the very back of the room. The velvet upholstery is a deep, garish purple. I tap my perfectly manicured fingernails against the surface of the mahogany table. The rhythmic clicking sound is the only thing keeping my absolute fury in check.
I despise waiting. I am the daughter of Congressman Marcus Zone. My family name opens doors before I even reach for the handle. People wait for me. I do not wait for them.
A shadow falls across the table. I look up and scowl. Quinn slides into the booth opposite me. He looks entirely out of place in a club this exclusive. He wears a cheap beige trench coat that smells distinctly of wet wool and stale coffee. His thinning brown hair is slicked back with too much gel. He looks like a rat caught in a trap.
"You are exactly fourteen minutes late," I say. I pick up my crystal glass of sparkling water and take a slow sip.
Quinn nervously wipes his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "The rain is terrible out there, Ms. Zone. Traffic on the ring road was completely stalled."
"I am paying you a small fortune for results, Quinn. I am not paying you for weather reports." I set my glass down with a sharp clink. "Do you have the documents?"
Quinn nods quickly. He reaches inside his damp coat and pulls out a thick manila folder. He slides it across the polished mahogany table. He keeps his hand resting flat on top of the cardboard cover.
"This took a considerable amount of risk," he whispers. His shifty eyes dart around the dimly lit lounge, scanning the nearby booths for eavesdroppers. "Forging bank statements is one thing. Creating a digital paper trail of corporate espionage is a federal crime."
"Just give me the file." I snatch the folder out from under his hand.
I flip open the cover. The crisp white pages are beautifully organized. Quinn has done excellent work. The first page contains a fabricated email chain. The emails appear to be sent directly from Jessica Hayes. They discuss the sale of proprietary graphic design templates to a rival beverage company. The timestamps are perfectly aligned with her recent late nights at the studio.
I turn the page. The next document is a printed bank ledger. It shows a series of large, anonymous wire transfers routing directly into an offshore account registered under Zoe’s name.
"Brilliant," I murmur. I trace the fake account numbers with my index finger.
"The evidence is completely solid," Quinn explains. He leans forward, lowering his voice even further. "I planted a burner phone in Fiona’s locker at her high school. The phone contains text messages coordinating the theft of trade secrets. It implicates all three of them. Zoe, Jessica, and Fiona will look like a highly organized ring of corporate spies."
I smile. It is a genuine, bright expression of pure joy. Emily Vance thinks she can humiliate me in public. She thinks she can parade around Asuir City with Alistair Wolfe on her arm, treating me like some discarded piece of trash. She thinks her little bubble tea shop is going to be her grand debut into the business world.
She is incredibly naive.
"When does the shop open?" I ask.
"The grand opening is scheduled for this coming Saturday," Quinn replies. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small digital recorder. "The press will be there. Several local food critics have already RSVP’d."
"Perfect." I close the manila folder and slip it into my designer handbag. "I will anonymously forward these documents to the Etland City Police Department on Friday night. I will also leak copies to the major business publications. By the time they cut the ribbon on Saturday morning, the police will be waiting to arrest her precious business partners."
Quinn rubs his hands together. "The scandal will completely destroy their brand before they even sell a single cup of tea."
"It will destroy her," I correct him.
I imagine the look on Emily’s face when the authorities march into her pristine new shop. I imagine the handcuffs clicking around Zoe’s wrists. Emily will be powerless. The Wolfe family detests public scandals. Alistair’s grandmother will never tolerate a woman associated with a criminal enterprise. Once her friends are indicted for corporate espionage, the entire Wolfe Empire will treat Emily like a contagious disease. She will be cast out of high society permanently.
I reach into my purse and extract a thick white envelope. It is stuffed with crisp, unmarked bills. I toss the envelope onto the table. It lands with a heavy, satisfying thud.
"Your final payment," I state. "Disappear for a few weeks. I do not want anyone connecting you to this."
Quinn snatches the envelope eagerly. He shoves it deep into the pocket of his damp coat. "You will not see me again, Ms. Zone. It has been a pleasure doing business with you."
He slides out of the booth and scurries toward the exit, blending in with the shadows of the lounge. I sit alone at the table. I pick up my glass of water and take another sip. The liquid tastes incredibly sweet.
Emily Vance made a terrible mistake crossing me. I am a Zone. We do not just defeat our enemies. We annihilate them. I check my reflection in the dark glass of the window beside me. My hair is flawless. My makeup is perfectly intact. I am completely ready for Saturday.