Lena sat across from Damian in his private study, the scent of leather and aged bourbon filling the air. A single lamp illuminated the space, casting long shadows over the mahogany desk. Between them lay a file one that held the first real opportunity to strike back.
Damian's expression was sharp, focused, as he studied the latest report Monroe had sent over. Vaughn wasn't acting alone. He had allies, and their first target was Blackwood Holdings' most valuable asset the Westbridge expansion project.
"He's coming at us from the financial side first," Damian said, fingers tapping against the folder. "Cut off the funding, pressure the investors, and force our hand."
Lena leaned forward. "Can we stop him?"
A slow, calculated smirk tugged at Damian's lips. "We can do better than that." He turned the file toward her, pointing at a name near the top. "Julian Hale. One of Vaughn's new financial backers. If we flip him, we turn the pressure back on Vaughn."
Lena's brows furrowed. "Do we have leverage?"
Damian's expression darkened. "Everyone has a weakness."
She exhaled, studying the details before her. Julian Hale had built an empire on high-risk investments, balancing between legal and dangerously unethical dealings. If Vaughn had convinced him to join forces, it meant one thing Hale believed Vaughn could win.
Lena lifted her gaze. "Then we need to convince him otherwise."
Damian's smirk returned, though it was laced with something colder. "I was hoping you'd say that."
The Hale Gala – That Evening
The ballroom of the Hale estate gleamed under crystal chandeliers, the air thick with the scent of expensive champagne and silent negotiations. Power wasn't just discussed here—it was traded, gambled, wielded with precision.
Lena stood beside Damian, her gown a deep sapphire, the silk cool against her skin. She felt the weight of their presence the moment they entered. Whispers followed them, speculation hanging in the air like perfume.
Julian Hale was at the center of it all, laughing smoothly among a group of executives, a glass of whiskey in hand. When he spotted Damian, his smile didn't falter—but Lena noticed the slight shift in his stance.
"Blackwood," Hale greeted, his voice warm but measured. "Wasn't sure you'd show."
Damian's smirk was effortless. "And miss the opportunity to discuss our mutual interests?"
Hale chuckled, glancing at Lena. "And you've brought your wife. Quite the power couple, aren't you?"
Lena smiled, her expression polite but unwavering. "We do make a formidable team."
Hale's gaze flickered between them before he gestured toward a quieter corner. "Let's talk."
The Offer
Seated in a private lounge overlooking the city, Hale swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "I assume you're here to convince me I've made the wrong choice."
Damian leaned back in his chair, unbothered. "No. I'm here to offer you a better one."
Hale raised a brow. "And what makes you think you have something more valuable than what Vaughn is offering?"
Lena answered before Damian could. "Because Vaughn isn't as strong as he wants you to believe." She slid a thin folder across the table. "We have evidence that some of his overseas assets aren't as secure as he claims. His backing isn't as deep as it seems."
Hale's expression didn't change, but Lena saw the way his fingers twitched against the glass.
Damian pressed further. "Stay with Vaughn, and you'll be left picking up the pieces when he falls. Work with me, and you come out ahead."
Hale considered them for a long moment before setting his drink down. "You always were a difficult man to bet against, Blackwood."
A slow, knowing smile spread across Damian's face. "Then don't start now."