The air inside KingTech felt heavy — like the calm right before lightning strikes.
Every corridor buzzed with whispers, every passing glance carried an unspoken question: Who leaked it?
Security cameras were under review, emails were being traced, and the company's servers were locked tighter than a vault. But beneath all the noise, one name sat at the center of it all — Amelia Jones.
---
Christopher walked through the glass hallway, his reflection fractured against the panels. His tailored suit couldn't hide the exhaustion on his face. He hadn't slept — not really.
Mark trailed behind, tablet in hand.
"Sir, IT's already traced the first upload to an anonymous domain routed through three foreign proxies. But—"
"But?" Christopher's tone was sharp enough to cut glass.
Mark swallowed. "The timestamp matches an employee login. Internal."
Christopher stopped walking. His jaw clenched.
"Someone inside," he muttered. "Find out who. Quietly."
"Yes, sir."
As Mark left, Christopher's gaze drifted toward the design wing — where Amelia used to work. His chest tightened. For the first time in years, his heart and his company were under attack at once. And the enemy was invisible.
---
Across town, Amelia stood in front of her mirror, tying her hair into a neat low bun. Her fingers trembled slightly.
Lydia leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. "You sure you wanna go back today? You could stay out until things calm down."
Amelia shook her head. "If I hide, they win. And I'm tired of running."
Her reflection stared back at her — not the timid woman from months ago, but someone hardened by storms.
She picked up her bag. "It's time to face him. To face all of them."
---
When Amelia walked into KingTech, the world slowed.
Every pair of eyes seemed to follow her — some curious, some sympathetic, some cold.
She kept her head high.
Each step echoed like a drumbeat against marble floors.
At the reception, she paused, inhaled deeply, and looked up toward the glass elevator that led to the executive floor.
The floor where he was.
---
Inside his office, Christopher's phone buzzed again.
> "Sir," the intercom crackled, "Miss Jones is here."
His pen froze mid-stroke. He hadn't prepared for this moment — not after the press storm, not after defending her before the entire nation.
For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then, quietly, "Send her in."
---
The doors opened.
Amelia stepped in, her presence quiet yet commanding. Her pale pink blouse, simple but elegant, contrasted against the dark mahogany of the office. For a moment, neither spoke — the silence thick enough to drown in.
Christopher rose slowly, his eyes unreadable.
"You shouldn't have come in," he said finally.
"I had to," Amelia replied, her tone calm but firm. "This is my name too, Mr. King. My life. I won't let anyone twist it again."
He stared at her — the same fire he'd seen that night at the gala flickered in her eyes.
"You're not safe," he said, stepping closer. "They're still watching. Whoever did this isn't done."
Amelia's lips tightened. "I got the message."
His eyes darkened. "What message?"
She pulled out her phone and showed him the text:
> You think he saved you? This is just the beginning — E.
Christopher's expression turned lethal.
"Elena," he muttered under his breath. "She's escalating."
"Then stop her," Amelia said. "You're the CEO. You have power. Use it."
He met her gaze — and something in his chest twisted. She wasn't afraid of him anymore.
"I am," he said softly. "But she's not just after you anymore, Amelia. She's after everything connected to you. Including your children."
Amelia froze. "My kids?"
"Yes," Christopher said. "That's what she hinted at before. I didn't take it seriously then. I do now."
Her breathing quickened. Her hand gripped the table edge.
"She wouldn't—"
"Elena would," he cut in, voice hard. "And worse."
For a long moment, they just stared at each other — fear, rage, and something unspoken swirling between them.
Then Christopher turned toward the window. "From today, I'll have security assigned to you. Discreet but close."
"I don't need—"
"It's not a discussion."
The steel in his tone made her stop. But beneath it, she heard something else — worry.
Real worry.
---
Meanwhile, in a penthouse suite overlooking Nova Heights, Elena swirled a glass of wine, eyes glinting like daggers.
"Ah, Amelia Jones returns to KingTech," she murmured, watching the live office feed on her laptop. "Predictable."
Beside her, Clara paced nervously. "Are you sure this next step isn't too far? Christopher's already suspicious—"
Elena turned slowly, smile cold and dangerous.
"Too far? My dear Clara, too far is when they stop fearing you. And I'm not there yet."
She tapped the keyboard. On the screen, a folder opened — labeled PROJECT REQUIEM.
Inside were dozens of photos, internal documents, and one heavily encrypted video file.
Clara's eyes widened. "What… is that?"
Elena's smirk deepened. "Proof that Amelia's not as innocent as she looks — or at least, that's what the world will believe when I'm done with it."
---
Back at KingTech, Christopher's team gathered in the glass conference room. Mark projected data onto the wall.
"The leak originated from someone with executive clearance," he explained. "Only a handful of people have this level of access — yourself, Miss Bennett, a few others from PR…"
Christopher's gaze flicked to the list — and lingered.
His voice dropped an octave. "Keep this between us. Not even Clara knows. I want to see how long it takes before the next leak — and who it leads back to."
Mark nodded. "Understood, sir."
As the room cleared, Christopher looked down at his phone — at the picture of Amelia's text message.
He whispered, "You want a war, Elena? Fine. You'll get one."
---
That night, Amelia stood by her balcony again, looking out at the city lights.
Her phone buzzed — this time, a message from an unknown contact but with a different tone.
> Be careful. Someone at KingTech isn't who they seem.
Her brows furrowed. "Who is this?" she typed.
No reply.
Just the blinking cursor — and the growing sense that the storm was no longer coming.
It was already here.
---