Morning sunlight spilled over the skyline, catching on the edge of Petrina’s desk, turning the paperwork into gold.
From here, she could see the whole city, her city, moving beneath her success. But lately, even that view couldn’t settle her anymore. Emails stacked up in her inbox. Board reports, investor messages, another reminder from her father about the upcoming gala. Everything she touched felt heavier these days. She rubbed her temples and leaned back in her chair, exhaling. A knock came at the door. “Come in.” Brian Stone stepped inside, casual but polished, gray suit, open collar, that same confident air he carried back in college when he’d first made her laugh. He smiled like they were old friends. “Madam CEO,” he teased lightly, holding up two coffees. “Still taking yours without sugar?” She allowed a small smile. “You remember.” “I make a habit of remembering the important things.” He crossed the room, placing the cup in front of her. She noticed he still wore that same watch she once gave him, years ago, before he’d left. She ignored the twinge that stirred in her chest. “Let’s get to it,” she said, gesturing at the documents on her desk. “I read your proposal for the new logistics partnership. It’s strong, but the figures on page six don’t match the export data.” “Ah, that,” he said, sliding into the seat across from her. “Those numbers were placeholders. I’ll fix them before we send them to Rothwell Industries.” Petrina nodded, flipping through the pages. “You’ve still got that charm for making things sound easy.” He chuckled. “And you’ve still got that intensity that scares half your team.” She gave him a look that almost broke into a laugh, almost. “I prefer to call it focus.” “Well…..I call it magnetic,” he said quietly. Their eyes met for a moment too long before she cleared her throat and looked away. “Let’s stay on task, Brian.” He nodded, leaning back. “Of course. Though…..I didn’t just come to talk business.” That made her glance up again. “No?” He hesitated, as if debating whether to say what he came for. “You didn’t get my text last night?” He asked. “Oh, I haven’t checked my phone yet. What’s this about?” She reached for her phone on her desk. He stopped her mid reach, then he reached into his briefcase and set down a manila folder. “What’s that?” “I think you should see it.” Something in his tone made her stomach tighten. She opened the folder and froze. Inside were photographs, Derick sitting in a café with a woman she didn’t recognize. Another of them entered a hotel lobby. A bank statement showing transfers between unfamiliar accounts. Petrina’s throat went dry. “What is this?” “Evidence,” Brian said quietly. “Of what your loving husband’s been doing.” He spat. She looked up, confused and defensive all at once. “Derick? No. He—he’s not like that.” Brian sighed, tone soft but heavy with fake regret. “I wish it weren’t true. But this woman, Lily, I think her name is, works closely with him. I did some digging when I heard rumors. The transactions trace back to accounts linked with your company.” She shook her head, flipping through the pages. Her hands trembled slightly. The dates matched nights when Derick had come home late. “He told me he was working overtime,” she whispered. Brian leaned forward. “He’s been using Reed Innovations’ money, Petrina. You’ve built something incredible, and he’s stealing from you. I didn’t want to believe it either.” She pushed the folder away like it burned. “Why would he do this? After everything—” “Because he resents you,” Brian said simply. “He’s never matched your success. You’re the CEO of a multimillion-dollar company, and he’s still a mid-level worker. That kind of man doesn’t handle that well.” Her jaw tightened. “You think he’s jealous of me?” “I think he’s tired of being reminded he doesn’t measure up, and he never will.” The words sank in deeper than she wanted to admit. She’d felt it sometimes, that quiet distance in Derick’s eyes when people called her the breadwinner, the real achiever. She looked down again at the photos. “She’s…..pretty.” Brian watched her closely. “I’m sorry, Petrina. You don’t deserve this.” Silence stretched between them. The clock ticked softly. Finally, she said, “Maybe I should’ve seen it coming. My father warned me years ago. He said marrying below my class would end like this.” Brian leaned forward gently, voice smooth. “He wasn’t wrong. Men like Derick don’t understand women like you. You build, they take. You lead, they resent. You shine, and it blinds them.” Her chest tightened. Anger, hurt, humiliation, all twisting together. “I’ve spent years defending him, Brian. Years! And this is how he thanks me? By cheating on me?!” “Trusting someone shouldn’t be a punishment for you Petrina.” Brian said, voice dropping in lies and deceit. She exhales, head already a mess from the endless workload she had to handle. “What am I going to do now?…..” Brian opened his briefcase again and slid another set of papers toward her. “You don’t have to keep defending him.” She stared at the documents, legal pages, her name and Derick’s printed across the top. Divorce papers. “You already had these prepared?” she asked softly. He faked hesitation, just enough to seem sincere. “Only because I hoped you wouldn’t need them. But…..I thought, if this day ever came, you should be ready.” Her hands hovered above the papers. “Divorce…” The word felt heavy. Brian’s tone was almost kind. “You deserve a partner who’s on your level, Petrina. Someone who adds to your life….not drains it. You’ve built too much to have it ruined by a man who doesn’t even appreciate you.” She looked up, eyes glassy but cold. “He made me believe he did.” “He fooled you,” Brian said. “He fooled everyone. But you can still take control.” She sat back, staring out at the skyline. Her reflection in the glass looked composed, but her eyes told another story. She thought of Derick’s quiet smile that morning, his calm voice when she rushed out. He’d said nothing wrong, and yet every image in that folder made him look guilty. “I should have known,” she whispered. “I should’ve known he’d do this. Maybe he was never proud of me. Maybe he hated that I succeeded without him.” Brian stood slowly and walked around the desk. He stopped beside her, lowering his voice. “You don’t owe him loyalty, Petrina. Not after this. The longer you wait, the harder it gets to protect what’s yours.” She looked at the divorce papers again. “You really think I should do it?” “I think you already know you should,” he said. The silence stretched again. Then, she picked up a pen, spinning it between her fingers without signing anything yet. Her voice came out quiet but firm. “I gave him everything, Brian. Seven years. Trust. Support. And he made me look like a fool.” Brian nodded, hiding his rising satisfaction. “Then don’t give him another chance to do it again.” By the time Brian left her office, the folder lay open across her desk. The photos, the forged receipts, the papers, all of it staring back like proof carved in ink. Petrina sat in that silence for a long time. Outside her window, the city moved as if nothing had changed. But inside, something in her had cracked. She reached for her phone, scrolling through her messages until she found Derick’s name. Her thumb hovered over it. Then she locked the screen and set the phone aside. “Not tonight,” she whispered to herself. “He doesn’t deserve that.” The pen still lay beside the divorce papers. She picked it up, pressing her thumb along its edge. Her hand didn’t shake anymore. Somewhere in a beat up Toyota parked a few blocks away from Reed innovations, a very satisfied and excited Brian Stone, sat in his car, plotting his next phase to steal Reed innovations from Petrina.Latest Chapter
Victor Ashford
The Foundation black site sat buried deep within a mountain thirty kilometers from Davos. From the gravel road, it passed for a neglected ski lodge with boarded windows and rotting wood. Behind that shell lay a fortress of interrogation rooms.Julian Cross was slumped in a metal chair in the center of a windowless room, his wrists locked to a heavy table. A sling held his left arm tight against his chest while purple bruises darkened his jaw and cheek. A Foundation doctor had patched him up enough to talk, but the man was clearly holding back a scream with every breath he took.Derick walked in alone. He pulled out a chair and sat across from the prisoner.Cross looked up, his eyes like chips of ice. "Have you come here to gloat?""I came for information," Derick said. He kept his voice level and steady. "You are going to tell me what I need to know.""I am Ghost Protocol," Cross said with a dry, raspy voice. "We do not talk to people lik
The Davos Ambush
The main auditorium of the Davos Congress Centre was a sea of expensive suits and powerful faces. Three thousand people filled the rows. CEOs of Fortune 500 companies sat shoulder to shoulder with top government ministers and the heads of central banks. All around the place, journalists from every major news network adjusted their lenses and checked their feeds.Derick stood in the dim light behind the heavy stage curtains, waiting for his cue. He could hear his own breathing, steady and slow, while Jackson spoke directly into his ear through a tiny, hidden speaker."The facial recognition system is currently scanning every face in the building," Jackson said from the high-tech security room. "Our software is tracking how people move and how they shift in their seats. If anyone looks out of place or shows signs of a threat, we will see it before they even take a step.""How many people have we flagged?" Derick asked, his voice barely a whisper."W
Preparing the Trap
The following fourteen days vanished into a relentless cycle of logistics and tactical preparation. Jackson had transformed a secure hotel suite in Davos into a high-functioning command center. Digital displays lined the walls, casting a steady glow over personnel who had been working twenty-hour shifts to ensure every variable was controlled."Swiss intelligence has finalized their positions," Jackson said, his finger tracing the arteries of a digital map. "We have twenty-four officers stationed at every major entry and exit point of the town. No vehicle enters this valley without us knowing about it."Derick leaned over the map, his eyes scanning the terrain. "And what about our eyes inside the venue? Did Interpol come through?""Sixteen agents are already on the ground. They are fully integrated into the event staff. Some are carrying trays, others are checking press badges, and a few are working the security gates. If a single Ghost Protocol operative
Julian Cross
Later that night, back at the Foundation safe house, the air was thick with the smell of coffee. Jackson had spent twenty minutes on a secure phone with his old contacts in London. When he finally hung up, he looked at the group with a grim expression."Julian Cross is a real person," Jackson said. "My contacts found his file. He was one of the most decorated soldiers in British history. He has fifteen confirmed kills and did dozens of secret missions in Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan."Jackson opened his laptop and turned the screen around. A photo appeared of a man in his early forties. He had short hair, and a sharp jawline"In 2009, Cross led a team into Syria to find a weapons factory," Jackson explained. "He killed eleven people during that raid. Three of them were children. He tried to claim they were armed, but the evidence showed he had murdered civilians."Charlotte stared at the photo. Her voice was full of anger. "He killed children?"
The Leak
The Foundation safe house stood as a lonely stone sentinel amidst the Scottish highlands. No neighbors lived within a twenty-mile radius, and the horizon remained unbroken by cell towers or the intrusion of internet signals.Derick arrived first, steering a rental car he had secured under a digital ghost of an identity. He had taken every possible precaution, leaving his primary phone in a drawer in New York, navigating three separate international flights with three different passports, and swapping vehicles twice during the final leg of the journey.Jackson followed shortly after, then Charlotte, Lily, and finally Marcus. Each member arrived via a distinct route. They eventually gathered in the main room, where the scent of burning peat filled the air and the fire crackled with a steady, rhythmic heat."Everyone sweep yourselves right now," Jackson said. He began distributing handheld detection devices to the group.They spent the next twenty minutes checking every seam of their clo
Compromised
Derick stared at the secure video screen showing Victoria Laurent's face. The Foundation technology specialist waited patiently for his decision."I need you to go deeper," Derick said. "Every corporation that benefited from Ghost Protocol assassinations. I want ownership structures, financial connections,and everything."Victoria hesitated. "Mr. Sekwiga, with respect, I work for Sebastian Dubois. He assigned me to help with pattern analysis, but expanding the investigation would require his authorization.""Then I'll get it from someone with equal authority," Derick replied. He switched to another line and called the one person he trusted least but needed most right now.The call connected. Victoria Laurent's face appeared on screen, but this was a different Victoria Laurent.Derick had to remind himself this wasn't Victoria. The Foundation had too many Laurents. This was someone else entirely. He'd been told her name but couldn't recall
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