Chapter 5 – Ashes of the Past
Sleep was a luxury I couldn't afford anymore.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw fire—the kind that devoured not just flesh, but dignity, dreams, and trust.
Tonight was no different.
I jolted awake long before dawn, the echo of a scream fading into silence. For a moment I didn't know where I was—the silk sheets, the dim light, the faint scent of lavender. Then memory returned, wrapping around me like cold iron. Sophie Alade. The girl with everything. The mask that fit too well.
I pressed a trembling hand against my chest. My heart still beat, but the rhythm didn't feel like mine.
---
By eight a.m., I was dressed in gray—sharp blazer, pencil skirt, no jewelry. A uniform for war.
When I stepped into the office, Jason was already waiting, leaning against my desk as if he belonged there. His hair was still damp from rain, his tie loosened just enough to look effortlessly charming.
"Morning," he said, handing me a folder. "The figures from yesterday. Ethan's been fuming all night."
I took the folder, pretending not to notice the glint of admiration in his eyes. "Good. Maybe he'll lose sleep for once."
Jason chuckled. "You're enjoying this."
"Shouldn't I?" I replied. "Some people only learn when they're uncomfortable."
He studied me for a long moment, then sat down across from me. "You're playing with fire, Sophie."
"I've burned before," I said quietly. "It doesn't scare me anymore."
---
Later that afternoon, we were scheduled to review the merger contracts. Ethan insisted on being present. Of course he did.
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut. Jason sat beside me, his posture relaxed, while Ethan stood across the table, eyes sharp, calculating.
"Sophie," he said smoothly, "I'd like your input on Section 14. The confidentiality clause."
"Which part?" I asked without looking up.
"The part where Alade Holdings promises not to disclose internal data." His tone was casual, but the meaning wasn't. "I'd hate for another… misunderstanding to occur."
I looked up slowly, meeting his gaze. "Don't worry, Mr. Cole. I don't make mistakes. I expose them."
Jason glanced between us, sensing the undercurrent. Ethan's jaw tightened, but he smiled—a predator baring teeth behind civility. "Let's hope that confidence doesn't turn into arrogance."
"Confidence built on truth never does."
For a heartbeat, no one breathed. Then Ethan turned away, pretending to review the documents. But I saw it—the faint twitch of his fingers, the silent fury.
I'd drawn blood again.
---
When the meeting ended, Jason caught up with me at the elevator.
"You enjoy provoking him, don't you?" he asked, half-amused, half-concerned.
"He deserves worse."
Jason frowned. "He's my brother."
"And I'm your colleague," I said. "We both wear masks, Jason. Yours just looks friendlier."
He laughed softly. "You talk like someone who's seen too much."
"Maybe I have."
---
That evening, as rain pattered against my windows, I poured myself a glass of wine and opened my laptop. The folder named Rebirth Project blinked at me like an invitation.
Inside were files, photos, numbers—everything that could destroy Ethan Cole. But beneath those documents, hidden deeper, was another file labeled simply: Amara.mp4.
My fingers hovered over it. For days I'd avoided watching it, terrified of what I might remember. But tonight, something in me wanted to bleed.
I clicked.
---
Flashback – Two Years Ago
The video flickered, grainy, shaky. My face filled the screen—Amara Cole, smiling under bright lights. The charity gala, the glittering chandeliers, the man beside me with the devil's smile. Ethan's arm around my waist looked protective. I remembered thinking I was safe.
The video jumped forward—dark hallway, muffled voices.
"You think I don't know what you did?" a voice hissed—mine.
Ethan's reply was cold steel. "You were supposed to stay quiet."
Then the shove, the flash of fear, the fall.
A scream.
Then darkness.
The screen froze on my own lifeless eyes.
I slammed the laptop shut, breath shuddering. The room spun. I pressed my palms against the desk, forcing myself to steady.
"He killed me," I whispered. Saying it out loud made it real again.
---
A knock at the door broke the silence. Jason's voice came through softly. "Sophie? You okay?"
I wiped my tears quickly and opened the door a crack. "It's late."
"I know. I saw your office light from the street." He held up a small paper bag. "Thought you might need food."
I hesitated, then let him in.
He set the bag on the table, opening it to reveal pastries and two coffees. "You looked… shaken earlier."
"I'm fine."
He gave a small smile. "You don't have to be."
The warmth in his tone made my chest ache in a way I hadn't expected. For the first time, I saw the softness behind his easy grin—the quiet empathy his brother never had.
"Why are you being nice to me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He shrugged. "Because you remind me of someone who deserved better."
That broke something inside me. I turned away, afraid he'd see too much. "Don't get involved, Jason. You'll regret it."
"Maybe," he said. "But I think you're worth the risk."
I froze. His words were gentle, but they cut deep—because they didn't belong to him. Ethan had said the same thing once, right before he betrayed me.
I forced a smile. "Go home, Jason. Before you start mistaking ghosts for people."
He hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Goodnight, Sophie."
When the door closed behind him, I exhaled shakily. My walls were cracking, and I couldn't let that happen. Not now.
Not when revenge was so close I could taste it.
---
I walked to the balcony, letting the cold rain wash over my skin. Somewhere down below, the city pulsed with life, indifferent to my pain.
Lightning split the sky, white and violent.
"I died once," I whispered into the wind. "And I swore I'd never die again—not for love, not for mercy, not for him."
The storm swallowed my words, carrying them away like a vow renewed.
Inside, my phone buzzed—a single message lighting up the screen.
Unknown: You can't hide forever, Amara.
My blood ran cold.
The game wasn't as secret as I thought