The next two hours were a whirlwind of paperwork, system logins, meeting my new team, and trying to absorb five years of company culture in a crash course.
Marcus turned out to be a godsend a sharp, efficient man in his late twenties who anticipated my needs before I voiced them and had already compiled briefing documents on all my direct reports.
"You're amazing," I told him after he delivered my third perfectly timed coffee. "How did you know I take it black with one sugar?"
"Mr. Cross mentioned it," Marcus said simply. "He's very thorough about details."
Of course he was. Damien Cross probably knew my coffee order, my shoe size, and my favorite food all within the first hour of deciding to recruit me.
At 9:58, Marcus knocked on my door. "Miss Chen? Mr. Cross is ready for you."
I grabbed my tablet, steadied my nerves, and headed to the top floor.
Damien's office made mine look like a broom closet. It occupied the entire southeast corner of the building, with views spanning from the East River to the Hudson.
The décor was minimalist but luxurious dark leather, chrome accents, and a desk that looked like it could double as a spacecraft command center.
And behind that desk sat Damien Cross, looking devastating in a charcoal suit, his attention fixed on his computer screen.
"Close the door," he said without looking up.
I did, and the space suddenly felt smaller. More intimate.
"Sit." He gestured to the chair across from his desk, still not meeting my eyes.
Professional. We were being professional.
I sat, crossing my legs and placing my tablet on my lap. "You wanted to discuss strategy?"
"Among other things." Finally, he looked at me, and those grey eyes were all business. "First: how was your morning?"
"Efficient. Your team is excellent. Marcus is a treasure."
"Good. I wanted you to have the best support possible." He stood, moving to the windows with his hands in his pockets.
"You'll report directly to me for the first six months. After that, assuming things go according to plan, you'll take over the entire innovation division. Twelve direct reports, three hundred million dollar budget, full autonomy."
My breath caught. That was… significant power. More than I'd ever had at Chen Technologies.
"What's the catch?" I asked.
"No catch. You're qualified. Your work speaks for itself, even if Nathan took credit for it." He turned to face me. "But I need something from you first."
Here it comes, I thought. The real reason he hired me.
"Chen Technologies is launching a new AI platform next quarter. Nathan's been keeping details under wraps, but I know it exists. I need you to get me information about it capabilities, launch timeline, target markets, everything."
"You want me to spy on my former company."
"I want you to leverage your connections. You still have friends there, people who worked under you, who know Nathan stole your work. They'll talk to you." His gaze was level, unapologetic. "I need that information to plan the hostile takeover. We can't move against Cross Enterprises without knowing all their assets."
It made sense strategically. But it also felt like crossing a line.
"If I do this," I said carefully, "some of those people could lose their jobs when the takeover happens. People who were good to me."
"Then we make sure they don't. Part of the takeover plan includes retention packages for key talent. Anyone you flag as valuable will be protected." He moved closer, perching on the edge of his desk. "I'm not Nathan, Aria. I don't destroy people for fun. But I do destroy people who deserve it."
"And everyone else is collateral damage?"
"Everyone else is strategic planning." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "This is war. You said you were ready for that."
I was. I'd walked into this knowing exactly what Damien Cross was a ruthless billionaire who played to win at any cost. I'd agreed to be his weapon against Nathan.
But hearing it laid out so clearly still made my stomach twist.
"I'll get you the information," I said finally. "But I need your word that the people I flag as innocent the ones who had nothing to do with Nathan's schemes they're protected."
"You have it." He extended his hand. "Deal?"
I shook it, his grip firm and warm.
Professional.
Except he didn't let go.
"Second item on the agenda," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "This weekend. Any… complications?"
My period wasn't due for two more weeks, so I couldn't know yet. But the probability of pregnancy from one night, even without protection, was relatively low.
"Not that I'm aware of," I said. "If anything changes, you'll be the first to know."
"Good." He released my hand, moving back behind his desk. Creating distance. "Third item: Nathan's been trying to contact you."
I blinked. "How do you know that?"
"Because I have someone monitoring his communications. He's called you sixty-three times since Friday. Sent forty-seven texts. When you didn't respond, he started calling your friends."
"Did Jennifer"
"Your friend told him to fuck off and die, I believe her exact words were." Damien's lips quirked slightly. "She's loyal. I like that."
Relief flooded through me. Jen always had my back.
"What does Nathan want?" I asked, though I could guess.
"To control the narrative. To make sure you stay quiet about what really happened. He's worried you'll talk to the press, reveal that he systematically stole your work and your mother's company through manipulation." Damien pulled up something on his computer, then turned the screen to face me. "He sent this email this morning."
I leaned forward to read:
Aria,
I understand you're upset. You have every right to be. What happened Friday wasn't how I wanted you to find out about Elena and the baby. I was trying to find the right time to tell you, but things spiraled out of control.
I care about you. I always will. You were important to me, to my life, to my family. I hope we can remain friends once the dust settles.
Regarding Chen Technologies your mother built something remarkable, and I promise to honor her legacy. The company is in good hands. I'll make sure you're always taken care of financially. You'll never want for anything.
Please call me. Let's talk this through like adults.
Nathan
I stared at the email, anger building in my chest like a physical pressure.
"He thinks I'm going to stay quiet," I said flatly. "He thinks he can buy my silence with vague promises about being 'taken care of.' Like I'm a problem to be managed."
"That's exactly what he thinks. Because that's what you've always been to him manageable." Damien closed the laptop.
"The question is: what are you going to do about it?"
I thought about it. About Nathan's smug face when he announced his betrayal. About Elena's fake sympathy. About my father's silence and my stepmother's cruelty.