The glass doors of the Lewis Group tower swung open as Deborah Lewis stormed out, her heels clapping hard against the marble. She didn’t wait for her assistant, didn’t look back at the boardroom that had just humiliated her.Her father’s voice still echoed in her mind “Maybe you’re not ready to lead yet.”Her phone buzzed. She jabbed at the screen, ordering a car through the app, then folded her arms and scanned the line of black sedans outside. It was raining lightly, the kind of drizzle that blurred reflections and made the city glow with silver haze.A black car pulled up. No logo. No driver’s name flashing on her phone. She didn’t care.She yanked open the door, slid into the back seat, and exhaled. “Drive. You’re late.”From the driver’s seat, Chris Alphonso glanced back, startled. He was dressed plainly, dark jacket, no tie, no company emblem on the dashboard. The woman who’d just entered spoke like someone who’d never been told no.“Uh… I think” he began.She waved a manicured

The storm had passed, but the city still smelled like rain, wet asphalt and something metallic.Deborah stirred awake in her penthouse, silk sheets tangled around her.The night replayed in flashes. Chris’s voice, the calm defiance. That smile at the end, she sat up, rubbing her temples. “What the hell did I just drag myself into…”Her phone buzzed, three missed calls from her father, one from her assistant, and a single unread text.Chris: Breakfast? 9AM. I’ll drive.Her brows shot up. “Drive?” she muttered. “He thinks he’s my chauffeur now?”Still… curiosity edged her irritation. Who was this man who could sit in a room full of billionaires, take insults like a professional, and leave everyone speechless?She slid out of bed, wrapping a robe around her. “He said he invests in people… right. Probably sells fake stock tips on YouTube.” but the more she tried to convince herself, the less she believed it.[9:03 AM – Outside her building]Chris leaned against a dark sedan, casual, compo

Deborah’s phone buzzed the moment Chris stepped out of sight, Her hands were still trembling when she answered.“Ms. Lewis,” said her father’s assistant, voice tight. “There’s something you need to know.”“About what?”“About the account irregularities you mentioned last week. We ran an internal audit, one of the shell companies your uncle used traces back to an entity named Alphonso Holdings.”Deborah’s blood ran cold. “That can’t be right.”“It’s listed in multiple government registries, but here’s the strange part, no director, no shareholders, no public data. Just the name.”She swallowed. “Send me everything.”“Already did. But, Ms. Lewis… your father said to stay out of it. He sounded serious.”The call ended, She opened her laptop on the café table, ignoring the waiter clearing nearby dishes. The email was there, attachments, encrypted PDFs, layers of corporate paperwork. She scrolled through fast.Then she stopped, A photo buried in the files, security footage from a closed-do

Rain slicked the road, turning the city into a blur of neon and reflection. Deborah’s hands clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles whitened.Her phone still glowed on the seat beside her, Chris’s last message: Games end, This doesn’t.She hit delete, It didn’t help, she checked the mirror, nothing but wet asphalt and a trail of headlights behind her.“Breathe,” she whispered to herself. “You’re not paranoid. You’re just careful.” but then, one car stayed exactly three lengths behind, Every turn. Every light. Every lane change.Her pulse kicked up. “No,” she murmured. “Coincidence.”She accelerated, cutting across traffic. The car behind her did the same. Her phone buzzed again.Unknown: You’re driving too fast. Slow down.Deborah’s blood went cold. She dropped the phone. “What”The message pinged again.Unknown: Left lane. Now.A black SUV appeared suddenly beside her, sleek, tinted, same as Chris’s, but not his plate. Her mind raced. Is this him? Or someone else entirely?T

The car rolled forward through the rain, the city lights stretching ahead like a line of ghosts. In the mirror, nothing followed, but Deborah couldn’t shake the feeling that the game hadn’t stopped. It had only changed shape.Rain streaked across the windshield in long, liquid ribbons. Deborah’s breath fogged the glass as the world outside bled into motionless gray. Chris’s unfinished sentence hung in the air, His voice was quiet but ti…, then swallowed by the hum of idling engines.She blinked, trying to focus, but the adrenaline still thundered in her veins. Two black SUVs sat at crooked angles on the wet road behind them, their high beams slicing through the mist. Shadows shifted inside, three, maybe four figures stepping out.Chris’s hand was already on the door handle. “Stay here,” he said, voice low, almost mechanical.“Like hell I will,” she snapped, fumbling with her own belt. Her pulse tripped over itself. She barely registered the slam of his door before she was outside, ra