Chapter 8 - THE RIVAL'S STRIKE
The return flight to New York two days later was filled with a high-voltage, quiet tension that had nothing to do with finance.
While they maintained a professional distance whenever Victoria or the flight crew were present, the moment they were alone in the cabin, the unspoken connection between them burned like a quiet flame. A touch of hands over a folder, a lingering look across the table, a low whisper in the executive corridor—everything had shifted.
However, peace in the corporate world never lasted long.
At 8:00 a.m. on Monday morning, Nora arrived at her glass-walled executive office on the twenty-third floor, wearing an elegant dark green dress.
Before she could even turn on her computer, Victoria Vance walked into her office, her face unusually pale, holding a printed copy of the morning’s Wall Street Journal.
"Nora," Victoria said, her voice tight. "We have a massive problem."
Nora took the newspaper.
Prominently featured on the front page of the business section was a headline that made her blood run cold:
BLACKWELL MERIDIAN PROMOTES UNQUALIFIED ANALYST FOLLOWING ALLEGED PRIVATE FAVORITISM: INTERNAL LEAK EXPOSES CONFLICT OF INTEREST IN VANCE-VANGUARD DEAL.
Below the headline was a blurry, zoomed-in security camera photo taken on the balcony of the Savoy Hotel in London—a photo showing Adrian with his arms wrapped around Nora, kissing her in the rain.
Nora’s hands began to shake.
"Who leaked this?" Nora whispered, her voice trembling with shock.
"Arthur Reynolds," Victoria spat coldly. "He was furious about being bypassed for the European acquisition team. He pulled security logs from the nineteenth floor, collaborated with a rival hedge fund manager named Julian Croft, and sold the balcony photograph to the press."
Before Nora could process the nightmare unfolding before her, the oak doors of Adrian’s office opened.
Adrian stood in the doorway. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket. His collar was unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up, his face set into a terrifying mask of absolute, lethal fury.
"Victoria," Adrian commanded, his voice cold as liquid nitrogen. "Get legal on the line. I want Reynolds served with a non-disclosure violation lawsuit within fifteen minutes, and I want Julian Croft’s short positions frozen."
"Yes, Mr. Blackwell," Victoria said, rushing off down the hall.
Adrian looked at Nora. His dark eyes softened instantly as he saw the pale, horrified look on her face.
He walked into her office, closing the glass door behind him.
"Nora," Adrian said softly, reaching out to take her shaking hands in his. "Look at me."
"Adrian," Nora choked out, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. "They’re calling me unqualified. They’re saying I only got the promotion because... because of us. It destroys the Vance-Vanguard deal. It destroys my reputation."
"Listen to me very carefully, Nora Bennett," Adrian said, his voice hard as iron, his fingers tightening gently around hers. "No tabloid, no disgraced middle manager, and no rival hedge fund is going to destroy what you built. You saved this company six hundred million dollars on merit alone."
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He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a firm, protective kiss against her knuckles.
"They want a fight?" Adrian whispered, a dangerous, dark glint flashing in his eyes. "I’m going to show them what happens when someone attacks the woman I love."
