Chapter Seven:

The slap echoed before anyone could breathe. Viole’s palm was still in the air. Veronica’s face had barely moved. The entire conference room froze. Vordon stood up slowly. His chair scraped against the marble floor, sharp and controlled. “Have you lost your mind?” His voice was quiet, which made it worse. Viole’s fingers trembled. Pride forced her chin up. “She deserved it.” Veronica touched her cheek. It stung, but not as much as the humiliation from her past life. That pain had burned deeper. This? This was noise. She looked at Viole calmly. “For what? Outbidding you? Or existing?”

The words landed clean. Viole’s breath hitched. “You humiliated me in front of everyone. You think money makes you powerful?” “No,” Veronica replied softly. “Information does.” Silence. Vordon’s eyes shifted to Veronica. He was studying her again. Not with annoyance this time. Something darker. Something unsettled. “You crossed a line,” he said to Viole. Viole swallowed. Fear flickered in her eyes. She had never heard him speak to her like that. “I did it for you.”

That made the room colder. Veronica’s chest tightened unexpectedly. She had heard those words before. In another lifetime. Spoken with tears. With desperation.

I did it for you.

She hated how familiar that sounded.

Vordon’s jaw hardened. “Don’t ever say that again.” Viole’s face went pale. “You’re defending her?” Veronica stepped back. She didn’t want this to turn into a public display of possession. That would change the balance.

“Enough,” she said. “This isn’t worth the drama.” Viole laughed, brittle and wounded. “Easy for you to say. You’re the wife.”

Wife.

The word pressed into Veronica’s chest like a reminder of a cage.

Vordon’s gaze snapped to her. Waiting. Measuring.

She met his eyes. Calm. Detached. “That title expires soon.” The air shifted.

Viole blinked. “What?”

Vordon’s expression didn’t move, but something cracked beneath it. “Explain.” “It’s simple,” Veronica said. “I’m filing for divorce.”

There it was. No one breathed. Viole’s jealousy turned into disbelief. “You’re joking.” “I don’t joke about contracts,” Veronica replied.

Vordon stepped closer. Not aggressively. Just enough to dominate the space. “You think you can walk away because you won one project?” His tone was low, controlled. Dangerous. Veronica’s heartbeat was faster than she liked. Not from fear. From anticipation. This was the moment she never had in her first life, “I can walk away because I want to,” she said. “The project is just timing.” Vordon stared at her as if trying to peel away layers. “You’re overestimating yourself.” “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe you’ve been underestimating me.”

The subtext was clear.

You never saw me.

Viole felt invisible between them. Her nails dug into her palm. “You’re divorcing him? After everything he’s given you?” Veronica looked at her. Really looked.

She saw insecurity, not hatred. Desperation, not strength.

“You mistake access for affection,” Veronica said gently.

That hurt more than the slap.

Viole’s eyes filled, but pride swallowed the tears. “You think he’ll let you go?” Vordon’s silence was the real answer. Veronica’s stomach twisted. He wouldn’t let her go easily. Not because he loved her. Because he didn’t lose.

She knew that version of him too well.

“I don’t need permission,” she said evenly.

Vordon’s lips curved faintly. Not a smile. A warning. “You signed an agreement.” “And I read the termination clause.” That caught him. For the first time, uncertainty flashed across his face. He hadn’t expected her to read it. He hadn’t expected her to care. “I’ll buy myself out,” she added. “With what?” His eyes darkened. “Your sudden fortune?”

There it was.

Suspicion.

Veronica held his gaze. “Is that what’s bothering you?” He didn’t answer. But it was. The money. The bid. The confidence. It didn’t match the woman he thought he married.

And that threatened him. A knock interrupted them. Tyrus walked in without waiting for permission. He glanced at the tension, then at Veronica’s red cheek. His eyes sharpened instantly. “Am I interrupting something interesting?”

Viole stiffened. Vordon’s expression went cold. “Private meeting.”

Tyrus ignored him. He walked straight to Veronica. Close. Too close. “Who touched you?”

Veronica almost laughed. The contrast was absurd. One man claiming authority. Another claiming concern.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Tyrus didn’t look convinced. He turned to Viole. “You?” Viole felt small under his gaze. “It was a misunderstanding.” Tyrus smiled faintly. “I don’t like misunderstandings that leave marks.” Vordon stepped forward. “Careful.” The warning was clear. Tyrus glanced at him lazily. “Relax. I’m only protecting my investment.”

Investment.

The word sliced through the room. Vordon’s eyes snapped to Veronica. “What investment?” Unpredictable turn. Veronica hadn’t planned to reveal this yet. But something in her snapped. Maybe it was the slap. Maybe it was the jealousy in the air. Maybe it was seeing two powerful men circling her like territory.

She was done being positioned.

“I sold him twenty percent,” she said.

Silence fell heavily.

Vordon’s voice dropped an octave. “Of what?” “New Moon Estates.” The impact was immediate.

Viole gasped.

Tyrus didn’t smile this time. He just watched Vordon absorb it. “You didn’t have twenty percent to sell,” Vordon said slowly.

“I do now.”

“How?”

She held his stare. “Because I secured external funding before the auction.” He understood instantly that she had planned everything; she hadn’t acted on impulse, she had moved strategically behind his back.

Jealousy flared in his chest. Not romantic jealousy. Power jealousy. Control slipping through his fingers. “You used him,” Vordon said. Tyrus tilted his head. “Used? I prefer partnered.” Veronica’s heart pounded. She hadn’t expected the rush of adrenaline. This felt reckless. Dangerous. Alive.

“I chose him,” she corrected.

That was the real blow.

Vordon’s composure fractured for a second. “You chose him over your husband?” The question wasn’t about business anymore. Veronica saw it, and something twisted inside her, for one brief, foolish second, she remembered loving this man. Waiting for him. Hoping.

Then she remembered dying alone.

“I chose myself,” she said quietly.

The room went still.

Tyrus studied her with new intensity. There was no calculation in her voice. Just truth. Viole felt something collapse inside her. She had spent years chasing Vordon’s approval. And this woman was throwing it away.

“You’ll regret this,” Vordon said.

“Maybe,” Veronica replied. “But regret is lighter than resentment.”

That hit deeper than she intended.

Vordon’s eyes darkened dangerously. “You think this is freedom? You just declared war.” “Then consider this my first move.” Tyrus let out a low chuckle. “Now this is interesting.” Viole stepped back, overwhelmed. The room felt too small for the storm forming inside it.

“Are you really divorcing him?” she asked again, softer now.

Veronica nodded once.

Something shifted in Viole’s expression. Not anger. Not jealousy. Hope.

And that was the most dangerous emotion of all. “If you leave,” Viole whispered, “then I.” “Don’t,” Vordon cut in sharply. The possessiveness in his tone surprised even him.

Veronica noticed.

So did Tyrus.

Tyrus leaned slightly toward her. “You should come with me. This place feels hostile.” The invitation was deliberate. Vordon’s hand slammed against the table. The sound echoed. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Veronica felt the heat of that command. Old instincts tried to surface. Obey. Calm him. Fix it.

She crushed them.

“I’m not property,” she said.

Vordon looked at her like he didn’t recognize her anymore, maybe he didn’t. Tyrus extended his hand casually. “Your choice.”

The room held its breath.

Veronica hesitated for half a second.

Not because she doubted herself, but because she knew this decision would change everything. If she walked out with Tyrus, the lines would be drawn permanently.

If she stayed, she risked falling back into a cage.

Her heart thudded.

She placed her hand in Tyrus’s. Vordon moved instantly, grabbing her wrist.

The contact sent a jolt through her. Familiar. Intense. “Don’t test me,” he warned. She looked up at him. Close enough to see the fracture in his control. “I’m not testing you,” she said softly. I’m leaving you. His grip tightened, for a split second, something raw flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Not pride.

Fear.

And that was new.

Before anyone could react, Vordon’s phone rang. He ignored it. It rang again. Annoyed, he released her wrist and answered. “What?” Silence on the other end.

Then his expression changed.

Completely.

“Say that again.”

The room felt colder.

He listened, jaw tightening with every word, when he finally lowered the phone, his gaze locked onto Veronica. “What did you do?” he asked. She frowned. “What happened?” His voice was controlled, but barely. “Joel Group just lost three major investors.” Tyrus’s smile disappeared. Viole stared at Veronica. Veronica’s stomach dropped; she hadn’t touched Joel Group. That wasn’t part of her plan. Vordon took one step toward her. “And all of them just redirected their funds to a company under your name.

The world tilted.

Veronica’s mind raced; she hadn’t set that up, she didn’t even have her phone vibrating. A message notification, unknown number, she opened it, one sentence.

Welcome to the real game.

Her blood ran cold.

Tyrus leaned closer, reading her expression. “You didn’t do this.” It wasn’t a question. Vordon saw the shift in her face, and for the first time, doubt entered his anger. “Who’s behind you?” he demanded. Veronica looked up slowly.

“I don’t know.”

And that was the truth.

Outside the glass walls, employees were already whispering. Joel Group stock was dropping by the second. Vordon’s empire was bleeding.

And somehow, her name was at the center of it.

Her phone vibrated again.

Another message: move now, or you fall with him. She lifted her eyes to Vordon. Then to Tyrus, then to the door, the game had just escalated beyond her control.

And someone far more powerful had entered the board.