Eve stood in her office, staring out at the city skyline as twilight painted the buildings in shades of gold and purple. The day had been long, exhausting even, but it wasn't the meetings or the endless stream of emails that weighed on her mind. It was the anonymous letter lying on her desk—a letter that had arrived earlier that evening, carried by one of the lower-level assistants, who had been none the wiser about the bombshell they were delivering.
She had skimmed it at first, thinking it was just another disgruntled employee complaining about the latest round of restructuring. But the further she read, the tighter the knot in her stomach became. The letter wasn't a complaint; it was a warning. Someone within Blackwood Industries, someone she trusted, was feeding information to William. Worse yet, they knew about her and Violet.
Eve's hand trembled slightly as she reached for her glass of scotch, taking a long, slow sip to steady herself. She had known the risks when she chose to stand by Violet, but this—this was different. This was betrayal.
She could hear Violet moving around in the adjacent room, preparing for their private dinner together, a small comfort after the tense board meeting. The sound of her voice, soft and melodic, calling out to Eve to ask if she wanted wine, was a reminder of what was at stake. But Eve couldn't bring herself to answer.
Instead, she turned back to the letter, reading it again, word by word, trying to discern who could be behind it. The handwriting was neat, precise, almost clinical, giving away nothing. The words were chosen carefully, deliberately vague, but the message was clear: someone close to her was a traitor.
Eve's mind raced, going through the list of people she had trusted with the most intimate details of her life, of her plans for the company. There was Hannah, her executive assistant for years, loyal and discreet—hadn't she been? Or perhaps it was Mark, the head of PR, who always seemed too eager to know the latest developments in her personal life. Even the possibility that it could be Violet crossed her mind, but she quickly dismissed it. Violet had risked just as much as Eve had, if not more.
As Eve pondered the possibilities, the office door creaked open, and Violet entered, her face lit with a gentle smile that faded as she noticed the tension in Eve's posture.
"What's wrong?" Violet asked, setting down the bottle of wine she had been holding.
Eve hesitated, the words caught in her throat. She had always been honest with Violet, but now, with this new threat looming over them, she wasn't sure how to protect her without pushing her away. She handed Violet the letter, watching as her eyes scanned the page, her expression shifting from confusion to shock.
"Who could have done this?" Violet whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Who could be betraying us?"
"I don't know," Eve replied, her voice flat, betraying none of the turmoil she felt inside. "But I'm going to find out."
As they sat down for dinner, the conversation was sparse, each woman lost in her thoughts. Eve couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach. She had always been in control, always the one pulling the strings, but now it felt as if the ground was slipping out from under her feet.
After dinner, as they were cleaning up, Violet suddenly stopped, her eyes widening as a thought seemed to strike her. "Eve, what if the letter itself is a trap? What if William sent it to make you paranoid, to make you doubt everyone around you?"
Eve froze, the possibility cutting through her like a knife. Could it really be a setup? Was she being played once again by the man who had been her nemesis for so long?
But then she shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "There are details in the letter that only someone close to us would know. This isn't just William trying to mess with my head. Someone on the inside is feeding him information."
Violet nodded slowly, though her unease was clear. "Then what do we do? We can't trust anyone."
Eve was silent for a moment, then made a decision. "We start small," she said. "We keep this between us, and we test the waters. I'll feed different pieces of false information to the people around me and see what gets back to William. It's the only way to find out who's betraying us."
The plan was simple but effective. Over the next few days, Eve carefully crafted different stories, each designed to be leaked by a specific individual. To Hannah, she mentioned a fictitious deal with a competitor. To Mark, she hinted at personal plans to step down from her position. And to a few others, she shared varying tales, all completely fabricated.
Days passed, and Eve waited, watching closely for any signs of betrayal. But nothing happened. The information she had planted didn't seem to be getting back to William—or at least, not in any way she could detect.
Frustration began to gnaw at her. Had she misjudged? Was the traitor more cunning than she'd anticipated? Or worse, was Violet right? Had William set this whole thing up just to sow discord?
Then, just when she was beginning to doubt herself, she received an email. It was from an untraceable address, with a single sentence: "Your plan won't work, but nice try."