Chapter 1 - Step Away From Her
Matthew struck Clare with the antique cane because she found the file he told everyone did not exist.
The blow landed across her upper shoulder.
Not her head.
Not her face.
But hard enough to send her sideways into the glass table.
The crystal vase shattered beside her.
White orchids scattered across the marble floor like pieces of a wedding that had finally stopped pretending.
Clare gasped, one hand clutching the torn edge of her champagne silk robe, long brown hair falling across her face. Her shoulder burned. Her forearm was already bruised from where he had grabbed her earlier.
Matthew stood over her in his charcoal suit, tie loosened, dark hair still perfectly styled, fury twisting the handsome CEO mask he wore so well in public.
“You should’ve stayed quiet,” he said.
Then he threw the cane down.
It hit the marble and rolled once, stopping near the broken vase.
Across the room, his laptop sat open on the side table.
A stock chart glowed red.
NexusCore shares were already falling.
Not crashing yet.
But falling.
Enough to make Matthew glance at it.
Enough to make him turn away.
That was his mistake.
Clare dragged herself across the cold marble toward the sofa.
Every movement hurt.
Her torn robe slipped from one shoulder.
She pulled it closed with shaking fingers, breathing through the pain, eyes locked on the glowing phone lying between two cream cushions.
Matthew had taken her phone earlier.
He had thrown it there after reading the message she never meant him to see.
Dad, if I don’t call by midnight, activate the board freeze.
Now the screen was still lit.
Still unlocked.
Still close enough.
Clare reached.
Her fingers slipped once against the marble.
She pulled herself farther.
“Please,” she whispered. “Answer.”
Matthew heard her.
He turned.
His face changed.
Not anger now.
Unease.
“Clare.”
She grabbed the phone and tapped the first emergency contact.
Dad.
The call connected on speaker.
A man’s voice came through immediately.
“Clare?”
She closed her eyes.
For half a second, she was a child again, hiding in her father’s study during thunderstorms, waiting for his voice to make the house feel steady.
“Clare,” her father said again, sharper now. “Who did this?”
Matthew stepped toward her.
Clare looked up at him from the floor.
Then she answered.
“Matthew.”
Silence.
Then her father’s voice turned colder than anything in the penthouse.
“Stay down. Do not argue with him. Security is already on the way.”
Matthew froze.
“What did you do?”
The laptop behind him chimed.
The red line dropped harder.
Another alert appeared.
NEXUSCORE EXECUTIVE ACCOUNTS RESTRICTED.
Matthew turned toward the screen.
“No.”
The elevator at the far end of the penthouse pinged.
Clare clutched the phone to her chest.
The camera of the room seemed to pull toward the elevator before the doors opened.
A security chief in a black suit stepped out with two guards behind him.
His face carried controlled authority, not panic.
He looked at Clare on the floor.
Then the cane.
Then Matthew.
“NexusCore’s accounts are frozen,” he said. “Step away from her.”
Matthew did not move.
For the first time since Clare had known him, he looked genuinely afraid.
Not of hurting her.
Not of losing her.
May you like
Of losing the company.
That told her everything.
