(Seraphine’s POV)

The city never sleeps. Neither do I.

From my office on the 40th floor, the skyline stretches endlessly, neon lights flickering like distant stars. I watch them, fingers tapping rhythmically against my desk, the only sound in the cavernous room aside from the faint hum of my computer.

The world outside is alive—rushing, burning, thriving. I should feel something. Excitement. Accomplishment. Maybe even satisfaction. Instead, there’s just the familiar weight pressing against my chest. A quiet, suffocating sort of emptiness.

I glance at the time. 11:47 PM.

I should go home. But what’s the point? My penthouse is nothing but a colder, quieter version of this office. The same pristine white walls, the same floor-to-ceiling windows, the same suffocating silence.

So I stay.

The email I’ve been dreading sits open on my screen. Vale Industries – Proposal for Acquisition Review.

Elias Vale.

I exhale slowly, my grip tightening around the edge of my desk. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him. Every deal, every negotiation, every high-stakes meeting—he’s always on the other side, waiting with that infuriating smirk, ready to tear me apart piece by piece.

For years, our rivalry has been a game of precision. Calculated strikes. Public clashes. Every boardroom meeting a battlefield, every press conference a war of carefully measured words. It’s exhausting, but I refuse to lose.

A sharp knock at my office door pulls me from my thoughts.

“Come in.” My voice is steady, impassive. A mask I’ve perfected.

My assistant, Claire, steps inside, looking hesitant. “Ms. Ashford… Mr. Vale is here to see you.”

I blink. Now?

Claire shifts uncomfortably. “He said it’s urgent.”

Of course, he did.

I take a slow breath, forcing down the irritation curling in my chest. This is what Elias does—pushes boundaries, steps into my space, makes sure I know he’s always one step ahead.

“Send him in,” I say, straightening in my chair. If he wants a fight, I’ll give him one.

Seconds later, Elias strides into my office like he owns the place.

Tall. Sharp suit. The air of someone who never doubts he belongs. He’s the kind of man who walks into a room and shifts the gravity. Effortless. Overpowering. Infuriating.

His gaze sweeps over me, assessing, before he smirks. “Working late again, Ashford?”

I don’t bother with a response. Instead, I lean back in my chair, leveling him with a cold stare. “What do you want, Vale?”

He places a file on my desk. “We need to talk. Now.”

I don’t reach for it. Instead, I watch him, searching for the angle, the trap he’s setting. Elias doesn’t do unplanned visits. He moves with intent.

I don’t know what he’s after this time, but I do know one thing—I won’t make it easy for him.

End of Chapter 1

Next chapter title - 'The games begin'

stay tuned

(Elias’ POV)

Seraphine doesn’t take the file. She just stares at me, her expression unreadable, eyes sharp but distant—like she’s here but not really. It’s a look I’ve seen before.

I know that look.

But I push the thought away as quickly as it comes.

Instead, I smirk, sliding the file an inch closer across her desk. “Come on, Ashford. Don’t look so suspicious. It’s just business.”

Her jaw tightens. “You don’t do ‘just business,’ Vale.”

Fair enough.

I lower myself into the chair across from her, crossing one leg over the other, making myself comfortable—mostly because I know it irritates her. “Alright, you got me. This is business, but it’s also personal. Because let’s face it—everything between us is personal.”

She exhales sharply, tilting her head just slightly, a gesture so small most people wouldn’t even notice. But I do. It’s the only crack in her perfectly composed mask.

I wonder if she knows that, for all her cold indifference, I can read her just as well as she reads me.

“Get to the point,” she says.

I smile. “Fine. Our companies are being targeted.”

That makes her pause. Her fingers tighten around the armrest of her chair, but her voice remains level. “Elaborate.”

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “There’s been a pattern—subtle, but deliberate. A series of leaks, market fluctuations, and internal sabotage. At first, I thought it was just directed at Vale Industries, but after doing some digging…” I tap the file. “It’s happening to Ashford Global too.”

She finally looks down at the folder, hesitating for only a second before flipping it open. Her eyes scan the pages quickly, taking in the reports, financial irregularities, and correspondence I compiled.

For a moment, neither of us speak.

Then she looks up. “Who’s behind it?”

I watch her closely. Her expression hasn’t changed, but I can see the gears turning in her head, the way she’s already piecing things together.

“That’s the problem,” I say. “Whoever it is, they’re careful. They’re covering their tracks too well.” I pause. “Which means they’re close.”

Her brows furrow slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face before she shuts the folder. “Why come to me with this?”

I give her a look. “Because whether we like it or not, Ashford Global and Vale Industries are too intertwined. If one of us falls, the other won’t be far behind.”

She exhales slowly, leaning back in her chair, her gaze shifting toward the window. The city lights reflect in her eyes, turning them into something unreadable, distant.

“You’re asking for a partnership,” she says finally.

“I’m suggesting an alliance,” I correct. “A temporary one. Until we figure out who’s pulling the strings.”

She lets out a quiet laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You want me to trust you.”

I shrug. “Not trust, Ashford. Just strategy.”

She’s silent for a long moment. Then, finally, she nods once, sharp and decisive.

“Fine. But let’s get one thing straight—if I find out you’re behind any of this, I’ll bury you.”

I grin, standing up. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

I turn to leave, but before I reach the door, I glance back at her.

She’s still staring out the window, shoulders stiff, fingers drumming lightly against the desk—a small, restless habit.

She looks exhausted.

Not just tired, but drained.

It’s something I’ve noticed before, but I’ve never let myself dwell on it. I don’t dwell on anything when it comes to her.

But for some reason, as I walk out of her office, the image sticks in my mind longer than it should.

And for the first time in a long time, I wonder—what exactly is she fighting when no one is watching?

 ---------------------------

End of Chapter 2

(Seraphine’s POV)

The moment Elias leaves, the tension in the room lingers like a bad aftertaste.

I stay still, staring at the closed door, waiting for something—maybe irritation, maybe relief. But there’s nothing. Just the same dull weight pressing against my ribs, the same quiet exhaustion that never quite fades.

With a slow breath, I push the file away and rub my temples.

This isn’t good.

Not just the sabotage, not just the fact that I have to work with him—but the fact that I didn’t see it coming. Someone has been attacking my company from the inside, and I was too preoccupied to notice. That alone should terrify me.

But it doesn’t.

Fear takes energy, and these days, I barely have enough left to function.

I glance at my phone. 12:26 AM.

Too late to be here. Too early to sleep. Not that it matters—I’ll end up staring at the ceiling either way.

With a sigh, I gather my things and leave the office, ignoring the way my body protests. The air outside is crisp, the city humming with late-night traffic and distant sirens. I walk toward my car, heels clicking against the pavement, the only sound accompanying me in the vast emptiness of the underground parking lot.

Then I hear it—footsteps.

I don’t stop, don’t turn my head, but my grip on my keys tightens. The footsteps are steady, unhurried, just far enough behind me to make my pulse spike.

Not tonight.

I reach my car, unlock it smoothly, and slide into the driver’s seat, locking the doors in one motion. My breath is even, controlled. I check the mirrors.

No one.

Still, I don’t move right away.

My fingers hover over my phone, debating whether to call someone—but who? My assistant? My head of security? My father?

No.

I inhale, exhale, and finally turn the key. The engine hums to life, filling the silence, pushing away the unease.

Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I didn’t.

Either way, I’m too tired to care.

---

The penthouse is as empty as I left it.

I toss my bag onto the couch and head straight for the liquor cabinet, pouring a glass of whiskey without bothering with ice. The burn is sharp, but it doesn’t do what I need it to.

I stare at my own reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows.

From the outside, everything looks perfect. The luxury, the power, the untouchable image. Seraphine Ashford, CEO, public figure, the woman who never falters.

But the truth is simpler.

I don’t feel anything.

I don’t even know when that started—when the anger stopped burning, when the victories stopped feeling like victories, when everything just… became hollow.

Maybe it’s always been like this. Maybe I just got too good at pretending.

I drain the glass and set it down, pressing my fingers against my temples.

Tomorrow, I’ll meet with Elias again. We’ll act like this is just another battle in our endless war. And I’ll play my part, like I always do.

Because at the end of the day, that’s all I am—a role to be played.

And I don’t know if there’s anything left of me underneath it.

---

End of Chapter 3