“Get lost.”
Her eyes lifted back to mine, cool and assessing. “You made the wrong move tonight.” She leaned in just enough that anyone watching would think it intimate. “Self-correct.”
My jaw tensed. “Try me.”
Her gaze flicked once more to the envelope. A deliberate tell. A reminder. Then she stepped back as if she’d already won and melted into the crowd.
I didn’t watch Elise retreat. I focused on Mila. Her skin was pale under the chandeliers, the silver of her dress suddenly looking like armor instead of liquid light. Adriana stood beside her, rigid and furious, her composure stretched thin.
I didn’t ask permission. I took Mila’s hand and pulled her toward the balcony doors. Adriana followed.
The cool evening air stripped the perfume and politics from my lungs. The balcony overlooked the town, where lights scattered below like fallen constellations. Adriana closed the doors behind us, dulling the gala noise to a distant hum.
Mila turned to me the second we were alone.
“If Mom and I stay in town”—her voice was steady in a way that scared me more than panic would have—“you’ll get hurt.”
Every instinct in me heightened. “Define hurt.”
“They’ll come after you.” Her voice broke just slightly. “Mom too.”
Adriana’s fingers squeezed the railing.
I looked at the envelope still crushed in Mila’s hand. “Tell me everything.”
She hesitated. That hesitation split something open in my chest. “Now, Mila.” My voice stayed low, unyielding. “Not because someone thinks they can scare you into running.”
Her eyes searched mine like she was looking for weakness. For doubt. For the first crack. Slowly, she smoothed the envelope and handed me the contents.
The documents were stark white on corporate letterhead, internal audit formatting marked with clean signatures and transaction logs.
Adriana Callahan. Dunn Industries. They were confidential transfers highlighting information leaks tied to King Enterprises contracts.
Industrial espionage.
It was meticulous. Lethal. And I’d bet my life it was fake.
“It’s fabricated.” Adriana voice was razor-thin with fury. “But it won’t matter.”
I scanned the pages again, slower this time. The timestamps. The digital markers. Whoever built this understood corporate investigations and optics. This wasn’t sloppy intimidation. This was strategic.
“They’ll leak it,” Mila said. “Or hand it to your father. Or the board. Or the press. And it won’t matter if it’s false. The damage will be done.”
“And you think walking away fixes that?” I asked.
Her throat worked. “If I’m not with you, there’s no leverage.”
The word sliced like a blade. Leverage. They weren’t wrong. Publicly claiming her tonight had rearranged the pieces on the game board. Elevated the stakes. They were ready for my next move, should I make it—and I had.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my pulse under control. “They were going to move eventually. All we did was stop pretending.”
Adriana’s gaze fixed on me. “You don’t understand the scale of this.”
“Then help me.”
The wind tugged at Mila’s hair. She didn’t look away from me. “Elise said if we don’t leave, they escalate.”
“Escalate how?”