The Contract Ex-Husband of Wealthy Widow

Chapter 19: The Reclusive CEO

"This is crazy, Elena! How am I supposed to get close to someone guarded as tightly as a medieval fortress?" Raka was frustrated, his voice barely a whisper, but his anger was real.

His burner phone felt hot in his hand. He had spent the last few days researching Julianna Vance, and the results only made his stomach churn further. The CEO of VanceTech, for all her brilliance, was a ghost in the real world.

"That’s why you’re the one doing it, Raka. Her guards won’t recognize a financial analyst like you as a threat," Elena replied, her voice as usual, cold and measured. "She isn't crazy, Raka. She’s just cautious. The Architects have made her paranoid; she just doesn't realize it yet."

Raka snorted. "Paranoid or not, she almost never appears in public! And when she does, she’s surrounded by a security detail thicker than an annual financial report." He swiped across his tablet screen, displaying images of Julianna Vance under heavy escort, her beautiful but cold face surrounded by silhouettes in black suits. Her golden hair was always perfectly styled, but her sharp eyes hinted at exhaustion. She’s just like me, trapped in her own golden cage, Raka thought.

"That is your challenge," Elena said, a faint hint of amusement in her tone that irritated Raka even more. "The Architects built up her fear, Raka. We have to give her a reason to fight back. Something to ignite her spirit."

"Ignite her spirit? What, should I throw a grenade into her office?" Raka tried to joke, but his voice sounded hollow. He felt stuck. How could he penetrate an invisible wall of defense? Darma was surely around Julianna too, monitoring his prey. Ms. Thorne at Chronos Holdings was still a threat as well, with the "sensitive report" she had promised. What exactly was in that report? A trap or a golden lead?

"Don't be ridiculous," Elena countered, as if she could sense Raka's desperation. "You have to plant doubt, Raka. Something that makes her feel that all her company's bad decisions aren't her fault, but a conspiracy."

Raka stared at the photo of Julianna smiling faintly, a smile that had once made him feel a bit relaxed at an art gallery. This woman didn't deserve this. A protective wave swept over Raka, pushing his fear to the back of his mind. He knew the risks; he knew Darma could appear at any moment. However, the image of a desperate Bianca and the steadfast Mrs. Anya were always the triggers in his heart. I will not just stand by.

Raka spent the next few days gathering every scrap of information about Julianna Vance and VanceTech. Lena, the Ghost, gave him access to public databases and the dark web that were shocking. Raka studied Julianna's habits: travel routes that almost never changed from home to the office and to a few select charity events. She was a perfectionist, fiercely protective of her privacy, and had a highly efficient personal security team.

"She has an unhealthy habit," Lena messaged, her voice appearing on Raka's secure communication app, "which is... reading all her fan mail and critiques personally. Crazy, right? I think she wants to see what others think of her innovations. Or maybe she’s just a loner."

"Fan mail?" Raka typed, slightly shocked. A tech CEO reading fan mail? It sounded ridiculous and sweet at the same time. A thin smile played on his lips. That’s the opening, Elena. That’s the opening.

"It’s a channel. Not a gap," Lena corrected, with a playful tone she rarely showed. "Security sorts through everything. But if you can slip in something invisible, something that doesn't smell like a threat, it might reach her. However, you have to be very clever. They will scan every single letter."

Raka spent the entire night thinking of a way. A letter. Anonymous. No digital footprint. No name. Just a message that would prick Julianna's mind, a seed of doubt about the coming destruction of her company. He rewrote several drafts; each felt too dramatic or too naive. I have to make it feel personal, yet professional. Enough to make her think, but not enough to scare her.

He finally found the right words: "Ms. Vance, the decisions destroying VanceTech are no coincidence. Someone has been manipulating your destiny from the shadows. Look for anomalies in your latest financial reports, especially those related to the Cerberus Initiative. The future of your innovation is in danger, just like your life. Trust your instincts." He included several transaction codes and dates that Lena had provided—evidence specific enough to make Julianna investigate, but not enough to reveal the source.

Raka printed the letter on plain paper, then singed the edges slightly, making it look like a remnant of an old file accidentally burned, or something kept for a long time. He wanted to give the impression of total anonymity. A touch of drama that, he hoped, would be effective.

"Are you serious about burning the edges?" Lena asked, her tone sounding like she was holding back a laugh. "You know, Darma might think this is a love letter from your biggest fan."

Raka snorted with amusement. "Better that than him thinking it’s a direct threat from an arch-enemy. It’s for the drama, Lena. To pique her curiosity."

"I like your drama," Lena replied. "But remember, drama can also be dangerous. Make sure there are no fingerprints. No DNA. No traceable fragments. Julianna's security team is no joke. They are on the same level as the Architect's guards."

Raka nodded, feeling the adrenaline surge. He knew this was a big gamble. Today, Julianna Vance would be visiting a private art exhibition in the heart of the city. It was one of the few public events she attended. A rare opportunity.

He arrived at the location an hour early, disguised as a freelance art curator with a fake badge Elena had provided. The exhibition was a labyrinth of contemporary art, with abstract sculptures and complex installations. Surveillance cameras were everywhere, and Raka could feel the sharp gazes of the security guards scattered among the guests. Where are you, Darma?

He saw the path Julianna usually took, leading to a hidden VIP room. The room had round tables for coffee or tea, and a quiet reading corner. There had to be a wastebasket there.

Bingo.

Raka waited patiently, blending into the crowd, holding a cup of coffee that had already gone cold. His heart pounded; every breath felt heavy. Panic began to creep in. What if someone sees me? What if Darma is already here, waiting for me to make a mistake?

Suddenly, he felt a chill. A premonition. He glanced toward the entrance of the VIP room. A tall man in a dark suit stood there, scanning the room. His face wasn't clearly visible, but his posture, his cold composure, was very familiar. Not Darma. But one of his men. Raka's muscles tensed. He was locked in.

"Stay calm," Lena's voice appeared in his ear through the mini earpiece Elena had given him. "He’s there to watch you. He doesn't know you're going to do this yet. Just keep blending in, Raka."

Lena? Raka didn't know the Ghost would operate directly like this. It was a bit surprising, but also comforting. She really is watching over me.

Julianna Vance finally arrived, surrounded by her personal bodyguards. Her hair was golden, her eyes radiated the same intelligence, but her expression looked tired, even a bit desperate. She went straight to the VIP room, followed by her guards.

Raka saw an opportunity. One of Julianna's guards, carrying the woman's slim briefcase, walked near him. That bag, Raka was certain, contained all the important documents and notes Julianna wanted to review there. This was the moment.

With a practiced motion, Raka 'accidentally' bumped into the guard's arm, causing a thin folder to fall from his hand. Its contents were several memo papers, meeting plans, and a small notebook.

"I'm so sorry!" Raka said, with a perfect tone of regret. He bowed quickly, helping the guard pick up the fallen items. While pretending to help, his nimble fingers slipped the note he had prepared into Julianna's small notebook. That book had to be very personal, something her security team wouldn't check randomly.

The guard only glanced at him for a moment, his eyes alert but not suspicious. "It's fine, sir. Thank you."

Raka retreated with his heart racing. He glanced toward Darma's man. The man was still there, observing, but hadn't seen the small incident. Lena was right. They didn't know what was happening.

Julianna sat at one of the round tables, opened her bag, and began reading the documents. Raka caught a glimpse of her from a distance. Will she find it? Will she believe it? Anxiety gripped him.

He saw Julianna pick up her small notebook. Her fingers flipped through the pages. Raka held his breath. He couldn't see her expression. Darma's guard stepped a bit closer toward Julianna.

Raka knew he had to leave immediately. He had planted the seed. Now he just had to wait and see if that seed would grow or be crushed by the lurking shadows of the Architects.

Raka turned and walked toward the exit, every step feeling heavy. He didn't dare look back again. Julianna Vance now held a glimmer of hope, or perhaps, the seed of an even greater destruction.

Would she see it? Was it enough? Raka kept walking, leaving the art exhibition that now felt increasingly suffocating. He knew Darma wasn't far, and now, the hunt could involve Julianna. He had to contact Elena immediately and prepare for the coming storm. But in his heart, a new question arose, beyond the mission. Will she be okay?