The silence in Gregory's penthouse was thick as he stood by the window, looking out over the city. His empire was slipping-Alina had turned the scandal on its head, rallied the board, and taken control of the narrative.
But Gregory wasn't done.
"She's not invincible," he said aloud.
Across the room, his lawyer looked up from a folder. "You've exhausted every legal angle, Greg. The more you push, the more it looks like vengeance."
Gregory smiled, slow and cruel. "Then let's stop pretending this is still about boardrooms and bylaws."
He turned, eyes glinting with something colder than ambition-something personal.
"She built her whole image on integrity. Control. Untouchability. You want to bring someone like that down?" He walked toward his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a sleek black envelope.
"Find the cracks in the armor."
His lawyer hesitated. "Is that what I think it is?"
Gregory tapped the envelope against the desk once. "Alina's past. A version of her no one's seen. Something she thought she buried before she ever stepped into a corporate office."
The lawyer remained silent, his gaze wary.
"I've been sitting on this for years," Gregory said. "Didn't think I'd need it. But if she wants to play queen, let's remind the world where she came from."
---
The Next Morning: The Leak
Naomi slammed the door to Alina's office without knocking, her phone in hand.
"It's all over the net. Every gossip outlet, every clickbait site. It's not about the company-it's about you. Personally."
Alina looked up from her screen, her expression unreadable. "What is it?"
Naomi turned the phone toward her.
Headline: "Before She Was CEO: The Alina Caldwell You Don't Know"
Photos. Grainy, but real. A much younger Alina, late teens maybe-flanked by people she hadn't seen in years. An underground party. A minor arrest record from when she was seventeen, long expunged. A confidential juvenile court document-leaked. Illegally.
She scanned the article. Words like reckless youth, double life, rags to riches with secrets jumped out at her.
Alina sat back slowly. "He went personal."
Naomi's voice was low. "This isn't just character assassination. This is psychological warfare."
For the first time in days, Alina said nothing. The silence was deafening.
Then she stood, went to the window, and stared out at the skyline that she had once dreamed of reaching. She had spent years crafting her rise, turning every mistake into momentum-but this wasn't about leadership or profit anymore. This was about identity. About narrative.
About legacy.
"He wants to humiliate me," she said quietly. "Make me look like a fraud before I ever walked into the boardroom."
Naomi approached. "What do we do?"
Alina turned, fire rekindled behind her eyes.
"We own it."
---
Later That Day: Alina's Statement
She stood at a podium-no media spin, no handlers-just her and the camera.
"When I was seventeen, I made mistakes. I didn't grow up with privilege or safety nets. What I had was grit, and a refusal to be defined by the worst moment of my life."
She didn't flinch as she continued.
"I've never pretended to be perfect. What I have done is fight-every day-to be better. To lead with honesty. And I won't let a man clinging to the last threads of power weaponize my past to undermine my present."
The statement went viral. Not just for its honesty, but for its strength.
---
Gregory's Camp: Crumbling
"Backfired," his lawyer said flatly. "Your stunt turned her into a symbol."
Gregory's hand clenched around the glass of scotch.
"They should fear me," he muttered.
"They pity you," the lawyer replied, standing. "This war's over. You're finished."
The door clicked shut behind him.
---
Alina's Office: The Calm Before the Final Move
Jesse sat across from her, the silence between them steady.
"He used everything," Jesse said.
Alina nodded. "And still lost."
"You going to take him out now? For good?"
She looked down at her hands-steady, calm, clean.
"No. I'm going to let him fade. Let the world watch as he becomes irrelevant."
She stood, back straight. "But we will close every door he ever opened. No more shadows. No more silence."
Her voice was quiet, but absolute.
"Time to finish what he started. On my terms."