Chapter 3
1450words
Though Samuel and Lina were momentarily on the defensive, their influence ran deep. They wouldn't simply watch as Karen and I consolidated power.
I needed to move fast—strengthen my position and build our own network of informants.
Playing the "victim" of the engagement night scandal and leveraging Grandfather's unspoken guilt, I maneuvered my way back into the family's inner business circle. My excuse? "Needing distraction and business education." Grandfather installed me as vice president at our prestigious luxury goods division—officially to learn the ropes, but really to keep me visible and protected.
This glamorous position was a minefield—I knew that better than anyone.
Despite her house arrest, Lina's years of networking meant she had eyes and ears throughout the organization. And Samuel? His influence had already infected every department.
Rather than making splashy moves, I began laying my groundwork quietly.
Using my birthright access and new VP credentials, I discreetly pulled personnel files and project histories.
Merging hazy memories from my past life with fresh observations, I identified potential allies: talented employees sidelined for refusing to play Samuel's games, and middle managers who'd been frozen out for knowing too much.
Recruiting them would require delicate handling.
I couldn't be obvious about it—just one or two carefully arranged meetings through back channels.
Coffee shops near the office. Private lunches ostensibly about business matters. Nothing that would raise eyebrows.
One key target was Marcus Lee, a senior finance director who, in my previous life, had been forced into "early retirement" for refusing to sign off on Samuel's cooked books. He'd only testified after Samuel's fall.
When I approached him, he was a man simmering with frustration and resentment.
"Director Lee," I said casually, stirring my coffee, "I know your loyalty to the company is absolute. I also know you have… concerns… about certain financial irregularities."
Marcus studied me warily, with the practiced caution of a man who'd learned the hard way. "Miss Ella, I'm not sure what you're implying. I'm just an accountant who follows protocol."
"Protocol?" I smiled slightly and slid a partial document across the table—just enough to show suspicious fund transfers to Samuel's shell company. "When the rulebook gets rewritten at someone's convenience, principled people like yourself are usually the first casualties. But occasionally… those who stand firm get a second chance."
Marcus stared at the paper, color draining from his face. After a long pause: "…Miss Ella, what exactly are you planning?"
"I'm not planning anything," I said, tucking the paper away. "I just want to ensure that when the time comes for truth to be spoken, voices like yours won't be silenced."
I had similar conversations with others throughout the company.
I never made explicit promises—just planted seeds, hinted at coming changes, and suggested I could offer protection when the time came.
Gradually, a network of informants formed around me—informal but highly effective.
Information began flowing my way—unusual staff transfers within Samuel's circle, questionable project expenses, subtle moves by Lina's loyalists.
Meanwhile, my collaboration with Karen deepened.
I fed him market intelligence and potential partnership opportunities through my channels, helping him refine his drone system for the upcoming military contract bid. He kept me updated on technical breakthroughs and any Samuel-related discoveries from his side. Our partnership evolved cautiously but steadily.
The calm didn't last. Lina's house arrest was lifted, and on her first day back, she made her move against me.
I was reviewing contracts for our next season's signature handbag line—a project originally Lina's that Grandfather had reassigned to both of us after her return, either to balance power or test us. I immediately spotted a red flag: a newly added supplier with suspiciously low pricing, well below market rates.
If something seems too good to be true, it usually is. I quietly asked Marcus to investigate this supplier.
His findings confirmed my suspicions—a shell company barely three months old with zero production capacity or industry credentials, linked through several layers to one of Samuel's investment vehicles.
Lina's game was obvious: use substandard materials, create a quality disaster, then hang me out to dry as the responsible executive.
After all, on paper, I was now the project's senior authority.
I didn't confront her immediately. Instead, I had my assistant archive every email and meeting record showing Lina pushing for this supplier change and rushing the contract signing. Simultaneously, I quietly lined up a reputable backup supplier.
When the first samples arrived, the problems were glaringly obvious: rough leather, tarnishing hardware, uneven stitching—completely unacceptable for Vanden's luxury standards.
Lina pounced immediately.
During a progress meeting attended by several family elders, she held up the shoddy samples with tears in her eyes: "Grandfather, uncles, I know Ella resents me because of the engagement situation, but I never imagined she would sabotage our flagship product line for revenge! She deliberately selected this terrible supplier, risking our brand's reputation! She's damaging the Vanden family legacy!"
She sobbed convincingly, playing the victim perfectly. Several uncles frowned, their suspicious gazes turning toward me.
Grandfather remained silent, watching me with unreadable eyes.
I suppressed a smile—I'd been waiting for exactly this. Calmly, I turned on the projector and displayed the complete email trail showing Lina's insistence on using this supplier, alongside Marcus's detailed investigation of the shell company.
"Lina," I spoke quietly but clearly, my voice carrying throughout the room, "you pushed for this supplier from day one. I have every email and meeting transcript right here. Should I play the recordings for everyone? As for this company's background…" I gestured to the report on screen, "I think the connection to certain interests is quite obvious to everyone."
I paused, watching Lina's face drain of color, then continued: "And regarding those rumors you've been spreading about my 'jealousy' and 'vendetta'…" I nodded to my assistant, who played a recording of Lina in the break room telling colleagues I was "bitter and vindictive" and "morally corrupt." "I think it's now crystal clear who's actually undermining this company and our family, isn't it?"
The evidence was damning. Lina stood speechless, desperately looking around for support, only to find even her usual allies avoiding eye contact.
Grandfather's face darkened as he slammed his fist on the table. "Disgraceful! Lina Vanden, you have disappointed me profoundly! You are suspended, effective immediately. You are not to involve yourself in any company business without my explicit permission!"
Security escorted Lina out, but not before she shot me a look of pure venom that could have killed on contact.
I maintained my composure, but I knew this was merely our opening skirmish. Someone like Lina wouldn't take this humiliation lying down.
As expected, several evenings later, after working late, I left the office and drove home alone.
On a quiet stretch of road, I noticed a black sedan in my mirror—it had been maintaining the same distance behind me since the company garage.
Samuel's people? Or Lina's revenge?
My pulse quickened as I accelerated, trying to lose them. The sedan matched my speed effortlessly—definitely not an ordinary vehicle.
Just as I was weighing my options—call security or head for the police station—a sleek, powerful SUV cut in from my right, expertly positioning itself between me and my pursuer.
The SUV's window lowered, revealing Karen's sharp profile.
He caught my eye in his mirror, his expression calm, and gestured for me to follow his lead.
His driving was masterful—a series of precise maneuvers and sudden accelerations that merged us into heavy traffic, losing the sedan completely.
Only when he was certain we were clear did he pull alongside me at a red light.
"You alright?" he called through the window, his tone neutral but with an undercurrent of concern.
"I'm fine," I replied, trying to steady my nerves. "Thank you, Karen. How did you know—"
"You've been making waves. Samuel was bound to notice." His explanation was characteristically brief. "I was testing a new anti-tracking system nearby and picked up unusual signals targeting your vehicle."
Anti-tracking system? I was momentarily surprised, then realized it must be a spin-off from his military tech.
Something warm stirred in my chest. This seemingly aloof ally was proving more thoughtful and dependable than I'd anticipated.
"Seems our partnership is even more vital than we realized," I said, meeting his eyes with genuine gratitude.
Karen nodded, his gaze shifting to the distant towers that symbolized our family's empire. "The storm's approaching, Ella. We need to accelerate our timeline."
Our two cars moved through the night in tandem, heading toward an uncertain but shared future.
I knew these corporate maneuvers were merely the opening gambit. The real battle was just beginning.
