The game begins

(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.