Chapter 12: Betrayal
1370words
"She's making her move," Alexander said grimly as we rode from the airport directly to Blackwood Tower. "Richard must believe he has enough support to challenge me openly."
The tension between us since the kiss in London had been palpable—a careful distance maintained, conversations limited to business matters. Now, facing a corporate crisis, that distance felt both a relief and a regret.
"What do they have?" I asked, focusing on the immediate threat.
"I don't know. But Victoria wouldn't risk this unless she believed she could win." His jaw tightened. "Whatever happens in there, remember that appearances matter. We need to present a united front."
The boardroom fell silent as we entered, all eyes turning to assess us. Victoria sat at Richard's right hand, her smile coldly triumphant. Alexander's grandmother Vivian, recently released from the hospital, occupied her usual place at the head of the table, her expression unreadable.
"Alexander," Richard greeted with false warmth. "How kind of you to join us. We were just discussing some... concerning developments."
"I'm sure you were," Alexander replied coolly, guiding me to seats opposite Victoria. "Perhaps you'd care to share these concerns with me directly, rather than behind my back."
Richard's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Gladly. Victoria, if you would."
Victoria rose, distributing folders to each board member. "These documents came to my attention yesterday. Given their sensitive nature, I felt the board should be informed immediately."
I opened the folder and felt my blood run cold. Inside were security logs showing late-night access to restricted areas of Blackwood's systems—access linked to my credentials. Photos of me meeting with Michael. Financial records suggesting irregular transfers coinciding with those meetings.
"As you can see," Victoria continued, her voice dripping with false concern, "Elena Winters has been accessing confidential information and meeting regularly with Michael Bennett—who, as it happens, works for our primary competitor, Archer Global."
Murmurs rippled around the table as board members examined the evidence. I stared at the documents in shock, my mind racing to understand how this could have happened.
"This is absurd," Alexander said, his voice dangerously calm. "Elena has no access to restricted systems."
"The logs indicate otherwise," Richard interjected smoothly. "Someone using her credentials accessed sensitive acquisition plans multiple times over the past month."
All eyes turned to me. I forced myself to meet their gazes steadily despite the panic rising in my throat.
"These records have been falsified," I stated firmly. "I've never accessed these systems, nor would I have any reason to share Blackwood information with competitors."
Victoria's smile was predatory. "And yet here you are, engaged to the CEO with full access to his home, his office, his life—while secretly meeting with a competitor's employee."
"Michael is an old friend," I countered. "Our meetings were purely personal."
"How convenient," Victoria murmured. "Perhaps you'd care to explain these financial transfers as well? Fifty thousand dollars deposited into an offshore account the day after each of your... friendly meetings."
The implication was clear: I was being painted as a corporate spy, using my relationship with Alexander to steal company secrets.
I looked to Alexander, expecting support, but his expression had turned to stone—the cold, calculating businessman I'd first met replacing the man who had kissed me with such passion in London.
"The board will need to consider this evidence carefully," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "In the meantime, I suggest we adjourn to allow for a thorough investigation."
"Alexander—" I began, stunned by his neutral response.
"Not now, Elena," he cut me off, not meeting my eyes.
Vivian Blackwood tapped her cane sharply against the floor. "I've heard enough for today. This meeting is adjourned until we have verified these serious allegations."
As the board members filed out, whispering among themselves, Alexander gripped my elbow and steered me toward his private office. Once inside, he closed the door and turned to face me, his expression unreadable.
"Explain," he demanded.
"Explain what?" I shot back, anger replacing shock. "How Victoria fabricated evidence against me? How she's using my friendship with Michael to frame me? I have nothing to explain, Alexander. This is a setup."
"The security logs—"
"Are fake! I've never accessed those systems. You know that."
"And the meetings with Bennett?"
"I told you about Michael. We're friends. Nothing more."
Alexander's jaw tightened. "Friends who meet secretly while I'm at the office?"
"Not secretly! I told Sophie where I was going every time. I have nothing to hide."
He paced the length of his office, tension radiating from every line of his body. "The timing is too perfect. Right when Richard makes his move, evidence appears linking you to our competitors."
"Exactly! Don't you see? Victoria is behind this. She's trying to drive a wedge between us because she knows our united front is the only thing standing between Richard and control of Blackwood."
Alexander stopped pacing, studying me with cold calculation. "Or perhaps this was your plan all along."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?"
"Perhaps that's why you agreed to our arrangement so readily. Access to Blackwood through me."
I stared at him, disbelief giving way to a pain so acute it stole my breath. After everything we'd shared—the confidences, the growing trust, the kiss that had shattered boundaries between us—he still believed I could betray him.
"After London," I said quietly, "after everything, you still don't trust me."
Something flickered in his eyes—doubt, regret, I couldn't tell—but his expression remained hard. "Trust is a luxury I can't afford, Elena. Not with my company at stake."
I laughed bitterly. "Your company. Of course. That's all that's ever mattered to you, isn't it?"
"You knew what this arrangement was from the beginning."
"Did I? Because I thought something had changed between us. I thought—" I broke off, unwilling to admit how much I'd begun to care for him.
Alexander turned away, moving to his desk where he pulled up security footage on his computer. "I need to review these logs myself. Determine if they could have been falsified."
"So you're investigating me now?" The hurt was morphing into anger, hot and clarifying. "After everything I've done to help you keep your precious company?"
"I'm investigating everyone," he replied coldly. "That's my job."
As we faced each other across the expanse of his office, I felt something breaking between us—the fragile trust we'd built, the connection that had begun to transcend our business arrangement.
A notification pinged on my phone. An email from an anonymous sender, containing a newspaper clipping from twenty years ago. The headline read: "Hamilton Enterprises Founder Edward Hamilton Dies at 65."
The accompanying photo showed a man who looked startlingly like my father, with the same eyes I saw in the mirror every day.
The pieces suddenly clicked into place—Alexander's research into Hamilton Enterprises, the connection he'd suspected between our families, the reason Victoria had targeted me specifically.
"Perhaps that was your way of gaining access," Alexander had said moments ago, echoing his earlier suspicion that I'd orchestrated our meeting for revenge.
But I hadn't known. I still didn't understand the full picture, but one thing was becoming painfully clear: Alexander would always choose his company over trust, over connection—over me.
With trembling fingers, I removed the emerald ring from my finger and placed it on his desk.
"Contract or not, you should have trusted me," I said quietly.
Alexander stared at the ring, something shifting in his expression—the first crack in his cold facade. "Elena—"
"I'll have my things out of the penthouse by morning."
As I turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass wall—standing alone, the emerald ring in his palm, an expression of regret finally breaking through his mask of control.
But it was too late. The damage was done.
I walked out of Blackwood Tower with my head held high, tears burning behind my eyes but refusing to fall. Our contract had been broken—not by the kiss we'd shared in London, but by the trust that had shattered in its aftermath.
