Chapter Six:

Lucien’s POV

“On what grounds?” My voice is steady, inside, everything fractures. The officer doesn’t blink. “Financial fraud, concealment of offshore assets, and obstruction tied to an ongoing federal inquiry.”

The room is no longer a boardroom. It’s a spectacle.

Directors back away as if guilt spreads by proximity. Lino stands perfectly still. Elara doesn’t move at all. “And her?” I ask, nodding toward Elara. The officer glances at the file. “Co-conspirator. Asset transfers authorized under joint structure.”

A ripple of whispers. Phones are already lifting. This will leak in minutes. Elara’s eyes meet mine. There’s no panic. Only calculation. I step forward. “My counsel will contact you.” “You’re free for now,” the officer says. “But your travel is restricted, both of you."

He makes that clear.

The officers exited as quickly as they entered. The silence they leave behind is worse. The chairman exhales shakily. “This meeting is adjourned.”

Cowards scatter fast; within seconds, it’s just us, me, Elara, and Lino. And the debris of power, Lino, is the first to speak. “Well,” he says lightly, “that escalated.” I turn to him slowly. “You tipped them.”

His brow lifts. “Careful.”

“You knew about the timing.” He shrugs. “Investigations don’t start overnight.”

Elara finally moves. She steps toward the table, placing both hands on it. Not weak. Grounded. “You didn’t look surprised,” she says to Lino. He smiles faintly. “I adapt quickly.”

“That’s not what I said.”

The tension shifts.

I watch her carefully. She’s not shaken. She’s thinking. “Did you contact regulators?” she asks him directly. “No.” “Did you feed them information?” “No." She studies his face like she’s dissecting it. He holds her gaze without flinching.

I cut in. “Enough.”

She doesn’t look at me. “No. Not enough.” There’s steel in her tone now. The old boardroom fear is gone. This is personal. “You both knew the accounts could be flagged,” she says. “I told you to be cautious,” I reply.

“And I told you not to hide things from me.”

There it is, not fear, not anger. Betrayal, I feel it land.

“I didn’t expose you,” I say carefully. “But you exposed us,” she shoots back. Lino watches like this is a theater. “You’re enjoying this,” I say to him. He tilts his head. “I’m observing consequences.” Elara straightens. “This isn’t random.”

“No,” I agree.

She looks at me. “Then who benefits?” The answer is obvious, but saying it changes everything.

“Lino,” I say. He laughs quietly. “You give me too much credit.” “You wanted leadership.” “And you think federal investigation is the cleanest path?” “Desperate men make bold moves.”

His eyes harden slightly. Be careful; Elara steps between us. “Stop,” she says firmly. “This isn’t a testosterone contest.” That unexpected comment almost breaks the tension.

Almost.

She turns to me. “When did you know they were building a case?”

“I suspected,” I admit. How long? “Months.” Her jaw tightens. And you didn’t tell me. You didn’t remember enough. That’s not your decision. The pattern repeats. Protection versus autonomy, but something shifts inside me; I’m tired of managing outcomes alone.

There’s more, I say quietly.

Both of them look at me. “The journalist you were meeting,” I continue to Elara, “was already cooperating with investigators.” Her eyes widen slightly. “He wasn’t just chasing a story,” I add. “He was building a case file.”

Against us, or against my father. Did you know? She asks.

“Yes.”

And you still let me go meet him? "I followed you." Lino’s expression flickers. Elara stares at me. You followed me? “Yes.” Why? Because I didn’t trust the situation.

Including me?

“No.”

She searches my face, and the crash? I wasn’t close enough. The memory is sharp: headlights, screeching metal, smoke. "I saw the impact," I say quietly. The room feels colder.

Lino’s voice cuts in. “Tragic.”

I turn to him sharply. You were supposed to be out of the country; I changed my flight. Elara’s gaze snaps to him. "You were there too," she says slowly. “Yes.” Why? To talk sense into you or to stop me?

His silence lingers just a second too long. I step forward. “Did you interfere with the investigation?”

“No.”

Did you warn anyone? I protected the company. "That's not an answer," Elara exhales slowly. You both keep talking about protection, she says. But I’m the one named in a federal file. Her voice isn’t trembling; it's controlled anger. “And now,” she continues, if I cooperate with them, I could reduce my liability.

As the words hang like a blade, Lino’s smile fades. I feel something cold enter my chest. “You’d testify?” I ask, I’d survive. It’s not cruel. It’s honest. Jealousy hits unexpectedly. Not romantic jealousy. Strategic jealousy. She’s willing to align with power if necessary.

She’s not choosing me blindly.

Good.

And terrifying.

Lino folds his arms. If you speak recklessly, you bury yourself too. She looks at him evenly. Maybe I don’t mind digging, I step closer to her. “If you go to them without understanding the full structure, they’ll use you.”

“Then tell me, "She says sharply. “All of it. The demand lands heavily. Full truth means exposing the family. Legacy. Crimes.

It means destroying what’s left of Hale.

Lino watches carefully.

“You won’t,” he says softly. “Because once you confess everything, there’s no empire to protect.” Elara turns to me. Is that what this is? she asks. “Still about the empire?”

I hesitate. That hesitation answers her; she laughs once, not amused. "I nearly died," she says quietly. And you’re still weighing optics. That’s not fair, it's accurate. The boardroom feels like a battlefield again.

But something changes in her expression. A thought forming.

“Unless,” she says slowly, both of us look at her. Unless this investigation wasn’t triggered by internal whistleblowing. What are you suggesting? Lino asks. She looks between us. What if the journalist didn’t act alone? Silence, I feel it, then a missing piece. He was cooperating, I say. “But he needed documentation.”

“And I was bringing it,” she replies.

“Yes.”

“And if someone intercepted that, they'd know exactly what regulators needed.” Lino’s eyes narrow slightly. “You think I fed them a partial trail,” he says.

I think someone did. I replay timelines in my head, regulatory timing, account freezes, board pressure. It’s too coordinated. “Elara,” I say slowly, “where are the original files?” She holds my gaze. “Safe.” Where? She shakes her head slightly.

“Not here.”

Lino steps closer. You’re bluffing. She smiles faintly. “Try me.” There it is again, that sharp edge. I realize something unsettling. She doesn’t fully trust either of us.

Good.

Because maybe she shouldn’t. My phone vibrates suddenly, an unknown number, I answer without thinking.

“Yes.”

The voice on the other end is calm. We have something that belongs to Miss Quinn.

My blood runs cold. Who is this? A concerned intermediary, Elara’s eyes lock onto mine. What do you want? I ask. A meeting for what? To exchange information, what information? A memory, the word hits differently.

I glance at Elara. Her face pales slightly. “What kind of memory?” I demand. “A recording,” the voice says. “From the night of the crash.” Everything inside me goes still.

“That’s impossible,” I say.

“Nothing is impossible, Mr. Hale.” My grip tightens around the phone. What do you want in return? “Immunity.” For whom? For the one who ordered it. The line goes silent for a beat.

Then the voice adds softly, and you already know his name.