Dylan’s head snapped up. “Since when do you care what he thinks?”
The sharpness in his tone made me flinch.
“I just—he sounded confident.”
“Of course he did. That’s his tactic. Intimidation.” Dylan stepped closer, cupping my face. “Don’t let him get in your head.”
I searched his eyes.
For reassurance.
For honesty.
“All companies carry debt,” he continued. “It’s normal.”
“Are we safe?” I whispered.
His jaw tightened for half a second.
“Yes.”
Too quick.
Too rehearsed.
He kissed me then—hard, possessive, almost punishing.
As if he needed to prove something.
I melted into it anyway.
Because loving someone means trusting them.
Right?
But that night, long after he fell asleep, I stared at the ceiling.
And wondered why Adrian Vale’s words wouldn’t stop echoing in my head.
You’re leverage.
Three days later, everything exploded.
I was at a café downtown when my phone buzzed.
Mia: Turn on the news. Now.
My stomach dropped.
I pulled up a live stream.
Breaking headline:
Vale Industries Initiates Hostile Takeover Bid for Ford Enterprises.
My coffee went cold in my hand.
The reporter’s voice droned on about stock plunges, board meetings, emergency negotiations.
And then they showed him.
Adrian.
Standing outside Vale headquarters, expression calm as chaos unfolded around him.
“This acquisition,” he told reporters smoothly, “is a strategic move. Nothing personal.”
Nothing personal.
My phone rang.
Dylan.
“Have you seen it?” he demanded the second I answered.
“Yes.”
“It’s just a play. A scare tactic.”
“Dylan…” My voice trembled despite my effort to stay calm. “Are we okay?”
Silence.
For one long, suffocating second.
“Of course we are,” he said finally. “I won’t let him win.”
Win.
Like this was a game.
“Come home,” he ordered. “Now.”
By the time I reached the penthouse, tension crackled in the air.
Dylan was pacing, tie gone, sleeves rolled up.
“They’re vultures,” he muttered. “He’s manipulating the board.”
“What does that mean for us?”
He stopped pacing.
Looked at me.
And for the first time since I’d known him, I saw fear.
“It means,” he said slowly, “I need you to trust me.”
“I do.”
“Then don’t talk to Adrian Vale again.”
The request was too specific.
My pulse skipped. “Why would I?”
“He’ll try to use you.”
Use me.
Leverage.
The word echoed again.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked quietly.
His eyes darkened. “This isn’t your burden.”
“I’m your fiancée. It is my burden.”
He stepped closer, gripping my shoulders. “Serena, listen to me. Whatever he says, whatever he implies—it’s manipulation.”
“And what if he’s right?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Dylan went still.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
The air felt heavy.
Thick.
I hesitated.
Just for a fraction of a second.
And he noticed.
His grip tightened.
“That’s what I thought,” he said softly.
Something shifted between us.
Cracked.
That night, as I lay awake again, my phone buzzed with an unknown number.
My heart pounded as I opened the message.
Unknown: You look stressed on TV today.
A photo followed.
Me.
Outside the café.
Taken earlier.
Cold dread flooded my veins.
Unknown: I warned you.
My fingers trembled.
Serena: What do you want?
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
Unknown: A conversation.
Serena: About?
Unknown: Your future.
My chest tightened.
Serena: Stop contacting me.
Unknown: You’ll come to me.
Serena: Why would I?
Three dots.
Then:
Unknown: Because when Ford falls, you’ll need somewhere safe to land.
My breath caught.
Serena: Is that a threat?
Unknown: It’s inevitability.
Another message followed.
Unknown: Tomorrow. 8 PM. The Crescent Hotel rooftop.
Serena: And if I don’t come?
A pause.
Long enough to make my pulse roar in my ears.
Unknown: Then you’ll never know what Dylan’s hiding from you.
The phone slipped from my fingers onto the bed.
Dylan’s hiding.
The words clawed at my mind.
I turned to look at him sleeping beside me.
Peaceful.
Familiar.
The man I planned to marry.
But suddenly—
I didn’t know which man was more dangerous.
The one trying to destroy us.
Or the one lying next to me.