Chapter Six:

The message burned in Veronica’s hand.

The land you bought? It’s contaminated. Check the soil reports. Her pulse slammed against her ribs. Contaminated? That was impossible. In her previous life, New Moon Estates had become the crown jewel of the southeast district. Luxury towers. A marina. Foreign capital is flooding in.

Unless.

Unless something had changed because she changed it. “Veronica.” Vordon’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “What is it?” She locked her phone and forced her face still. “Nothing urgent.”

He didn’t believe her. His eyes narrowed slightly, searching. He had always been good at reading negotiations, market shifts, and political traps. Now he was studying her the same way.

“I told you we needed to talk,” he said.

Tyrus was still watching from across the hall, unreadable. Viole stood near the wall, pale but victorious in a fragile way, clinging to the fact that Vordon had chosen her side publicly.

Everything felt unstable. “Fine,” Veronica said. “Talk.” Vordon led her into a private lounge. The door shut. The noise outside faded. He didn’t sit.

“You knew,” he said, knew what?

“That the footage wouldn’t destroy her. You stepped in before it got worse.” Her expression didn’t change. “I prevented a scandal.” You protected my company, I protected my name.

Silence stretched.

His jaw tightened. “Why?

There it was again. That confusion. That need to understand her motives. Veronica met his gaze. “Because until we divorce, your reputation affects my future.” The word divorce landed heavily between them. He exhaled slowly. “You’re still serious about that.”

“Yes.”

“Even after tonight?”

She almost laughed. “What about tonight's changes?”

His pride flickered. “I stood up for Viole. That could cost me millions.” And you want applause? The air shifted. His eyes darkened. You think I did that for her? He asked quietly.

“Didn’t you?”

He stepped closer. Not aggressive. Intent.

“I did it because I don’t tolerate disrespect under my watch.” Subtext filled the room. He wasn’t only talking about Viole. Veronica felt it. That subtle redirection. They need to appear principled instead of emotional.

“You care about her,” she said evenly.

“She’s talented.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

His silence answered enough; her phone vibrated again, another message. Soil toxins exceed safe construction levels. Government audit is coming.

Her throat tightened. If this was real, she hadn’t just overpaid. She had bought a disaster. Vordon noticed the flicker in her expression this time. “Who are you texting?”

“No one.”

He held out his hand. “Show me.”

She stared at him.

The old Veronica would have handed it over instantly. The obedient wife. The one desperate to be trusted. She slipped the phone back into her clutch.

“No.”

The refusal hit him harder than shouting would have.

“You’re hiding something.”

“Yes.”

The honesty stunned him.

Before he could press further, the lounge door opened abruptly. Tyrus walked in without waiting for permission. You two look intense, he said lightly. Should I come back? Vordon’s irritation was immediate. “This is private.”

Tyrus shrugged. “It won’t stay that way.” He looked at Veronica. “Check your email.”

Her stomach dropped.

She didn’t move.

Tyrus tilted his head slightly. “Go on.” Slowly, she pulled out her phone. An email notification had already arrived.

Anonymous sender.

Subject: Environmental Assessment – New Moon Site. Her fingers felt cold as she opened it. A detailed soil report filled the screen. Chemical contamination. Industrial waste traces. Regulatory red flags, Impossible.

This hadn’t existed before.

Her mind raced.

Had the land always been contaminated? Had she misremembered? Or had someone altered records to trap her? Vordon stepped closer despite himself. “What is it?” She hesitated only a second before turning the screen toward him. He read quickly. His expression shifted from irritation to sharp calculation.

Where did you get this? He asked.

“I didn’t.” Tyrus leaned casually against the wall. “It’s real.” You sent it? Veronica asked.

“No.”

Then how do you know?

“Because I was planning to buy that land six months ago,” Tyrus said calmly. My team found early indicators. The room felt smaller. “You knew it was contaminated,” Vordon said, his voice turning cold.

“Yes.”

“And you still pushed the bidding?”

Tyrus’s smile was faint. I wanted to see how far she’d go. Veronica’s chest tightened. So she had been tested. Provoked deliberately. You played with ten billion for amusement? Vordon’s tone was dangerous.

Tyrus’s eyes flicked to Veronica. “Not amusement. Curiosity.” Unpredictable heat rose in Veronica’s chest, not shame, not fear.

Anger.

“You could have told me,” she said.

“You didn’t ask.” The subtext was clear.

You walked into this confidently. I wanted to see if you would fall. Vordon’s gaze shifted between them, something ugly forming beneath the surface. Jealousy. Not romantic. Strategic.

You two are closer than I realized, he said. Veronica snapped her head toward him. “We are not.” Then why is he involved in your investments? The question was sharp. Accusing. She remembered the loan. The eight billion. The contract is still unsigned.

“You don’t get to interrogate me about business partners,” she said. “I’m your husband.”

“For now.”

That landed.

Vordon’s pride flared. “You borrowed money from him, didn’t you?” Silence, that was answer enough. Tyrus didn’t deny it. He simply watched. “How much?” Vordon demanded. It doesn’t concern you. How much? His voice rose slightly.

“Eight billion.”

The number hung heavy. Vordon laughed once. Not amused. Disbelieving. “You tied yourself to him for eight billion?”

“I tied myself to independence.”

“You call that independence? You’re indebted to my competitor.” The word competitor sounded almost personal.

Tyrus pushed off the wall. “Careful, Mr. Joel. I’m not your enemy. Yet.” “Stay out of this,” Vordon snapped. This involves me, Tyrus replied calmly. “If the contamination report becomes public, your wife faces investigation. So do you.” Fear crept in then. Real fear. Government audits. Environmental violations. Media scandal. Veronica felt the weight of her gamble pressing down. In her past life, she had followed Vordon’s lead. Played safe. Stayed quiet. Now she had moved first, and the board had changed. What do you want? She asked Tyrus directly. Vordon shot her a look. Are you negotiating?

“Yes.” Tyrus’s eyes sharpened. “Smart.” “I don’t have time for games,” she continued. If this is real, I need leverage.

You have it.

“How?”

“You’re not the only one who bid tonight,” he said softly. “There are others connected to that land. Old industrial owners. Political donors.” A cold realization formed, so this wasn’t random.

“No,” Tyrus said. “It never is.” Vordon processed quickly. “Someone wants that land development stalled.” “Or someone wants her destroyed,” Tyrus added.

Silence.

The possibility settled in. Veronica thought of the message sender. Unknown number. Anonymous email, someone knew she would buy it, someone expected her to. Her mind flashed to one person.

Viole.

But no. Viole didn’t have that kind of reach.

Unless.

Her phone buzzed again; this time, it wasn’t anonymous, it was from her family’s legal advisor. Veronica, urgent. The board has received a complaint regarding your New Moon purchase. Regulatory team requesting immediate review.

Her heart stopped. It was already spreading. Vordon saw her expression change. “What now?” She looked up slowly.

They’ve filed a complaint.

“Who?”

Regulators.

Tyrus’s gaze sharpened. “That was fast.” Too fast, this had been prepared in advance. Vordon’s voice turned ice-cold. “Who else knows about the contamination?” Tyrus didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked at Veronica. Did you tell anyone about your plans for that land?

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He studied her face. Searching for doubt.

And then.

The lounge door burst open again. Larry stood there, face drained of color. “Mr. Joel,” he said hoarsely. “There are reporters outside.”

Vordon frowned. “About what?”

Larry swallowed.

“They’re saying Mrs. Joel knowingly purchased toxic land to manipulate stock prices.” The accusation hit like a bomb. Veronica’s ears rang. Stock manipulation? That wasn’t just regulatory trouble; that was criminal.

Vordon turned slowly toward her.

“Tell me that isn’t true.” Her voice came out steady despite the chaos in her chest. “It isn’t.” Tyrus watched them both carefully. Outside, the murmur of voices grew louder, cameras, shouting. This was no coincidence.

This was a setup.

And it was bigger than jealousy.

Vordon’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID.

His expression changed instantly. “It’s the Chairman,” he said quietly. The head of the Joel Group. He answered, silent as he listened, then his jaw tightened. “Yes,” he said. I understand.

He hung up.

The room felt frozen. “What did he say?” Veronica asked. Vordon looked at her, not as a husband. Not as an ally.

As a liability.

“The board is convening tonight,” he said. They’re considering suspending you from any association with the Joel Group; the words hit harder than the accusation, suspend her, publicly distance her.

For the first time since her rebirth, a crack formed in her calm. Not fear of losing him, fear of losing control, Tyrus stepped closer, voice low. “You wanted independence,” he said. “This is the cost.” Veronica lifted her chin.

“No,” she replied quietly. “This is war.” Outside, the reporters’ voices grew louder. Inside, Vordon’s phone rang again; this time, it was an unknown number.

He hesitated, then answered.

A distorted voice spoke through the line.

“If you want this to stop,” it said, “divorce her. Publicly. Within forty-eight hours.” The call ended, Vordon lowered the phone slowly, Veronica’s blood ran cold. He looked at her, and for the first time, there was no confusion in his eyes.

Only calculation. Forty-eight hours.

Or everything burns.