Jonathan Pierce watched Claire storm out of Blackwood Tower, her face flushed with anger. A slow smile spread across his lips.
"She's perfect for my plan," he whispered, tapping his fingers against the tinted window of his luxury car.
His driver glanced back at him in the rearview mirror. "Sir?"
"Follow her. Not too close."
The sleek black car pulled away from the curb, following Claire as she marched down the busy path. Jonathan studied her through his window. Her determined walk, the fire in her eyes when she'd faced Damian in the lobby—she was exactly what he needed. Someone with personal reasons to hate the Blackwoods.
"Claire Hart," he whispered, scrolling through the file on his tablet. "Your father lost everything because of Damian Blackwood. And now you've walked right into my path."
Claire's phone buzzed for the third time. Olivia again. She ignored it, too angry to talk to anyone. The meeting with Damian had gone worse than she'd expected. Not only had he ignored her claims about her father, but he'd looked at her like she was nothing—just an annoying bug to be killed.
"Arrogant jerk," she grumbled, pushing through the door of a small coffee shop. The warm smell of coffee wrapped around her like a blanket. She ordered the strongest drink they had and fell into a corner seat.
Her hands shook as she pulled out the paper she'd found—proof that Blackwood Enterprises had knowingly targeted Hart Industries. Her father hadn't failed because of bad business choices. He'd been destroyed.
"Excuse me."
Claire looked up. A tall, silverhaired guy stood beside her table, an expensive coat thrown over his arm.
"Miss Hart? I'm Jonathan Pierce."
Claire froze. Everyone in the business world knew Jonathan Pierce—Damian Blackwood's biggest foe and the owner of Pierce Global.
"May I?" He pointed to the empty seat across from her.
Claire nodded, suddenly alert. "How do you know who I am?"
Jonathan's smile was friendly but calculating. "I make it my business to know who enters Blackwood Tower looking ready for battle." He sat down, putting his coat beside him. "Especially when that person is holding evidence against Damian."
Claire quickly covered the paper with her hand. "You saw this?"
"I have means everywhere, Miss Hart. Including inside Blackwood's kingdom." He leaned forward. "I know what happened to your father. And I know you want justice."
Claire's heart beat. "What do you want from me?"
"An union. Damian Blackwood has hurt us both. Together, we could bring him down."
Across town, Damian paced his office, the meeting with Claire Hart replaying in his thoughts.
"Who does she think she is?" he growled, loosening his tie. "Storming in here with accusations about her father's company?"
Marcus King, his righthand man, stood quietly by the door. "We've looked into her past, sir. Claire Hart is persistent. She's been looking for answers about her father's downfall for years."
"Her father made bad decisions. The market crashed. End of story."
Marcus paused. "Sir, there's something else. She was seen leaving with Jonathan Pierce."
Damian stopped walking. "Pierce? What game is he playing now?"
"Unknown. But if he's involving Claire Hart, it can't be good."
Damian walked to the window, looking out at the city skyline. "Find out everything about her. What she wants, who she talks to, where she lives. I want to know her better than she knows herself."
"Yes, sir."
When Marcus left, Damian pulled out his phone, scrolling to a secret folder. Inside was a single document—the real story behind Hart Industries' downfall. A story no one could ever find.
"Here's what I'm proposing," Jonathan said, pushing a business card across the table to Claire. "I can give you resources, information, and access to bring down Damian Blackwood."
Claire studied the card. "And what do you get in return?"
Jonathan's eyes glinted. "Satisfaction. And ownership of certain Blackwood assets once he falls."
"I don't want to be a pawn in your corporate war."
"You're not a pawn, Miss Hart. You're the queen." Jonathan leaned back. "Blackwood won't see you coming. He rejected you today because he underestimates you. That's his weakness."
Claire's phone buzzed again. This time she glanced at it. A text from Olivia: Where are you? I'm worried. Call me!
"Think about it," Jonathan said, standing up. "You have my number. Oh, and one more thing—trust no one with this. Not even your best friends. Blackwood has eyes everywhere."
After he left, Claire sat unmoving, turning the card over in her hands. Was she really thinking this? Aligning herself with one strong man to destroy another?
Her phone rang again. This time it was Vincent, her old friend. Claire paused, then answered.
"Claire? Thank god. Olivia said you went to face Blackwood. Are you okay?"
His concern warmed her chest. "I'm fine, Vince. Just needed some space."
"Where are you? I'll come get you."
"No, I—"
"Please, Claire. Let me help."
Twenty minutes later, Vincent's beatup car pulled up outside the coffee shop. Claire slid into the passenger seat, breathing in the familiar smell of his cologne.
"You're crazy, you know that?" Vincent said, shooting her a sideways glance. "Taking on Damian Blackwood alone?"
"Someone has to stand up to him."
Vincent sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Just be careful. Men like Blackwood don't play fair."
What Vincent didn't say—what he couldn't say—was that he was already caught in this dangerous game. The phone in his pocket held texts from people who wanted information about Claire. People who paid well for lies.
Back at Blackwood Tower, Elias Blackwood slipped into his cousin's office.
"Heard you had an interesting visitor today," Elias said, helping himself to Damian's expensive whiskey. "A vengeful daughter looking for justice."
Damian's jaw tightened. "What do you want, Elias?"
"Just curious why Claire Hart has you so rattled." Elias stirred the dark liquid in his glass. "Unless there's truth to her accusations?"
"Get out."
Elias smirked. "Careful, cousin. Your kingdom isn't as strong as you think." He drained his glass and set it down with a click. "And now Jonathan Pierce is circling. I wonder what he sees in Claire Hart that you missed?"
After Elias left, Damian picked up his phone. "Change of plans. I want to meet Claire Hart. Set it up."
Claire sat on her small apartment balcony, Jonathan's card in one hand and her father's photo in the other. The city lights blinked below like stars.
Her phone lit up with a text from an unknown number: Miss Hart, I've revised our conversation. Dinner tomorrow. 8 PM. Car will pick you up. —Damian Blackwood
Claire's heart jumped. Why the sudden change? Was it a trap?
Another text appeared before she could decide: I know you've met with Pierce. Choose your friends carefully.
Claire's blood ran cold. How did he know? She looked out at the city, suddenly feeling exposed.
In the building across from hers, a figure dropped a camera. Leo Donovan, former cop now private investigator, spoke into his phone.
"She got the message, Mr. Blackwood. And yes, she definitely met with Pierce. I have photos."
"Good," Damian's voice replied. "Keep watching her. I want to know every move she makes."
"There's something else," Leo added. "The Hart girl isn't alone in this. There's someone else helping her. Someone close to you."
"Find out who."
As Leo finished the call, he didn't notice the shape moving behind him. Didn't see the gloves hand reaching for his notes.
Across the street, Claire made her choice. She typed a reply to Damian: I'll be ready at 8.
She then picked up Jonathan's card and saved his number in her phone under a fake name.
The game was changing. If Damian Blackwood wanted to meet, she would go prepared. What he didn't know was that Claire had her own secret weapon—a recording of her father's last words, naming the person who had truly killed him.
And it wasn't Damian Blackwood.