Rain tapped against the windows like impatient fingers. I dropped my suitcase just inside the door, exhaustion heavy in my bones—until I saw them. My chair occupied. My desk rifled through. And him—Damien—standing beside a woman in a tailored suit that screamed 'hostile takeover.'\n\nHe turned, calm, like this was planned. 'Tia. You’re early.'\n\nThe air thickened. That woman—Vanessa Cole from Orion—smiled like she’d already won. Files labeled 'Project Phoenix' lay open. Our project. Mine.\n\n'I gave you everything,' I said, voice steady despite the storm inside.\n\n'You were slowing us down,' Damien replied. 'Orion sees vision. Scale. Not sentimentality.'\n\nSentimentality. The word burned. I glanced at the security panel—disabled. They thought I’d beg. Cry. Collapse.\n\nInstead, I reached into my coat pocket and pressed the button on my phone.\n\nThree seconds later, every screen in the office flashed red: 'DATA LOCK INITIATED. ACCESS DENIED.'\n\nVanessa lunged for the terminal. Too late.\n\nDamien’s face twisted. 'You think this changes anything?'\n\nI stepped forward, dropping my coat. 'No. This is just the first move.'\n\nNow they’re scrambling. But I’ve already activated the kill switch on our joint accounts. Sent the backup logs to five offshore servers. And called the one person Damien fears more than me.\n\nBut I have three choices: go public and risk everything, vanish and rebuild from shadows, or play their game—and win it so hard they’ll never speak my name without fear.