Chapter 7: The Counterattack Begins
1073words
"Emily, you look absolutely stunning tonight," Richard breathed, his eyes gleaming with what I'd once naively mistaken for love.
"Thank you," I smiled demurely, already plotting how to use the evening to expose his true nature.
The dinner drew the city's business elite. Dad was surrounded by several old colleagues, engaged in animated conversation. I noticed Sophie repeatedly attempting to edge closer to him, which immediately set off my internal alarms.
"Emily," Sophie sidled up to me, "your father's so busy he hasn't even checked his phone. It's been ringing non-stop."
In my previous life, this exact ploy had given Sophie the opportunity to access Dad's phone and harvest his passwords.
"Is that so? I'll check on it," I said with feigned concern, while keeping a close eye on her movements.
Dad's coat hung on a rack in the lounge area, his phone tucked in the pocket. Sophie casually walked over. "Let me grab it for your dad."
"I've got it," I said, swiftly snatching the coat before she could reach it. "No trouble at all."
A flicker of annoyance crossed Sophie's face. "Emily, you're acting weird tonight. What's going on?"
"Am I?" I feigned innocence. "I just thought I'd bring Dad his coat myself."
I returned to Dad's side with his coat and whispered a warning: "Dad, keep your phone and laptop secure tonight."
Dad gave me a puzzled look but nodded nonetheless.
Midway through dinner, Richard suggested everyone move to the terrace to enjoy the city lights. In the ensuing shuffle, I caught Sophie making another attempt at Dad's briefcase, which he'd left on the table.
"Sophie," I said, materializing behind her, "looking for something?"
She jumped visibly. "Oh! Emily! I was just... making sure your dad's things were safe."
"How considerate," I said with thinly veiled sarcasm. "But I'll take care of my father's belongings."
Sophie flashed an uncomfortable smile and retreated. I promptly secured Dad's briefcase, keeping it within my sight.
On the terrace, Richard was holding court with several executives. Seeing me approach, he smoothly slipped his arm around my waist. "Come meet some colleagues, darling."
Swallowing my revulsion, I played along. During a lull in conversation, I casually remarked: "Richard, didn't you say William Montgomery rarely involves himself in company matters? Yet today he personally attended the signing and overruled those supplementary clauses. Curious, isn't it?"
Richard's expression froze momentarily before he recovered. "William has indeed taken a sudden interest in operations lately. But that's beneficial for our partnership, wouldn't you say?"
"Of course," I smiled sweetly. "I just couldn't help noticing that you and William seem to have some... tension between you."
The executives around us perked up visibly. Internal Montgomery family politics was clearly juicy gossip.
Richard forced a diplomatic smile. "Some healthy competition is natural in business. But ultimately, we all serve the company's best interests."
"Really?" I asked with wide-eyed innocence. "Then why were you so insistent on those supplementary clauses that William deemed completely unnecessary?"
The atmosphere chilled instantly. A flash of fury crossed Richard's face before he mastered himself. "Just different professional judgments. Business decisions always involve varying perspectives."
I let the matter drop, satisfied that I'd publicly exposed the rift between them and put Richard in an uncomfortable position.
After the dinner, Richard insisted on driving me home. In the car, he finally confronted me. "Emily, what was that about tonight? Why ask those questions in front of everyone?"
"Just curious," I said with feigned innocence. "Did I say something inappropriate?"
"No, it's just..." he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Some internal company dynamics are better not aired in front of business associates."
"I understand," I nodded contritely. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."
His expression softened as he took my hand. "It's fine. I know you meant no harm."
At my doorstep, he leaned in for a kiss, but I deftly turned my head so his lips only grazed my cheek.
"Something wrong?" he asked, clearly puzzled.
"Just tired," I lied smoothly. "Rain check for tomorrow?"
He nodded, visibly disappointed but unwilling to press the issue.
Once safely inside, I immediately texted Dad: "Dad, please change ALL your passwords—phone, laptop, company systems, everything."
Dad's reply came quickly: "Already done. Emily, what exactly has you so concerned?"
"I'll explain when I see you," I replied.
Setting down my phone, I exhaled deeply. Tonight had been a success—I'd thwarted Sophie's attempts at information theft and publicly embarrassed Richard. But this was merely the opening salvo; my counterattack had only just begun.
The next morning brought a text from William: "Well played last night. Richard is absolutely livid today."
I smiled despite myself. "How did you hear about last night?"
"I have my sources," he replied cryptically. "Watch out for Sophie Wilson. She's far more dangerous than she appears."
Just as I was composing a reply, Dad knocked on my door. "Emily, got a minute?"
I invited him in, and he got straight to the point: "Why the urgent password changes? What do you know that I don't?"
Taking a deep breath, I decided to share a partial truth: "Dad, I think Richard and Sophie are trying to access company information. Last night I caught Sophie making two separate attempts to get at your phone and briefcase."
Dad stared at me, stunned. "Are you certain? That's an extremely serious allegation."
"I can't prove it conclusively, but my gut is screaming danger." I took his hand earnestly. "Dad, please promise you'll be extra cautious for a while. Don't trust anyone easily, especially anyone connected to the Montgomerys."
Dad considered this, then nodded slowly. "I'll be vigilant. But, Emily, about you and Richard..."
"I'll handle it," I cut in firmly. "Trust me on this."
After Dad left, I began strategizing my next move. I'd successfully blocked Richard and Sophie's initial attempts, but they would undoubtedly regroup. I needed to seize the initiative and maintain momentum.
I picked up my phone and texted Richard: "Free tonight? We should talk."
His reply came instantly: "Always free for you, beautiful."
"Blue Ocean at seven?" I suggested, my plan already taking shape.
After sending that message, I texted William: "Meeting Richard at Blue Ocean tonight at 7. I could use your assistance with something."
