The champagne tastes like victory, but it goes down like poison. I stand at the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Mandarin Oriental, watching the Seattle skyline glitter beneath me like scattered diamonds. Somewhere out there, in one of those steel and glass towers, Ethan Drake is probably celebrating too. He thinks he's won. He thinks acquiring Meridian Tech means he's finally beaten me. He has no idea what's coming. "Ms. Chen, the investors are asking for you." My assistant Priya appears at my elbow, her tablet glowing with notifications. "They want to discuss the counter-offer." I take another sip of champagne, letting it fizz on my tongue. "Tell them I'll be there in five minutes. And Priya? Make sure the contracts are ready for tomorrow's board meeting. Every signature, every clause—it needs to be perfect." She nods and disappears into the crowd of tech moguls and venture capitalists. This launch party for my new AI platform should be my moment of triumph. Two years of development, hundreds of millions in funding, and I'm about to revolutionize how corporations handle data security. But all I can think about is him. Ethan Drake. The man who destroyed everything I'd built five years ago. The man I'm about to destroy right back. My phone buzzes. Unknown number. I almost ignore it, but something makes me answer. "Cassandra Chen." His voice slides through the phone like aged whiskey—smooth, expensive, and guaranteed to leave you with regrets. "Enjoying your party?" My fingers tighten on the champagne flute. "How did you get this number?" "Please. I'm a billionaire, not an amateur." I can hear the smirk in Ethan Drake's voice. "I'm calling to make you an offer." "I don't take offers from thieves." "Thieves?" He laughs, and the sound makes something hot and unwelcome coil in my stomach. "That's rich coming from you. Or should I remind you what happened to Drake Industries five years ago?" My jaw clenches. "I had nothing to do with that." "Of course you didn't. You just happened to be the CFO when my family's company went bankrupt. When the SEC investigation revealed insider trading and fraud. When my father had a heart attack from the stress and died three months later." His voice has gone cold now, sharp as a blade. "Pure coincidence, I'm sure." The injustice of it burns in my throat. He doesn't know. He'll never believe the truth. "Why are you calling, Drake?" "Because I'm about to make your life very interesting, Cassandra. You see, I just bought a controlling share in your company's biggest supplier. And your second-biggest supplier. And the firm that handles your legal compliance." He pauses, letting that sink in. "By my calculations, you have about six weeks before your entire supply chain collapses and your AI launch becomes the most expensive failure in tech history." The champagne glass nearly slips from my hand. "You're bluffing." "Am I? Check your email. I sent the acquisition notices five minutes ago." I pull up my inbox with shaking fingers. Three emails wait, each one confirming my worst nightmare. He's not bluffing. He's been planning this for months, maybe years, moving pieces on a chess board I didn't even know we were playing on. "What do you want?" I force the words out. "Meet me tomorrow. Noon. The Fairmont Olympic. Come alone, or I start making calls to your investors about some very interesting financial irregularities I've discovered in your company's books." "There are no irregularities—" "Doesn't matter if they're real or not. Matters if people believe them." His voice drops lower, intimate and threatening all at once. "See you tomorrow, Cassandra. Wear something nice. I do enjoy watching you squirm in expensive clothing." He hangs up. I stand there, phone pressed to my ear, listening to dead air as my world tilts on its axis. Around me, the party continues. People laugh, glasses clink, deals are made and broken with handshakes and smiles. They have no idea that everything I've built is about to come crashing down. Unless I can stop him. I down the rest of my champagne and grab another glass from a passing waiter. Priya reappears, concern etched on her face. "Are you alright? You look—" "Fine. I'm fine." I smooth down my dress, a black Versace number that cost more than my first car. Armor for the battlefield. "Clear my schedule for tomorrow at noon. And Priya? Pull everything we have on Ethan Drake. Business dealings, personal life, parking tickets—I want to know what he eats for breakfast and who he's sleeping with." "On it." She makes notes on her tablet. "Should I be worried?" I think about the sound of his voice, the calculated cruelty in every word. The way he said my name like a curse and a prayer all at once. "Yes," I tell her. "Be very worried." The party blurs after that. I smile, I network, I deflect questions about Meridian Tech with practiced ease. But my mind is elsewhere, running through scenarios and strategies. Ethan Drake wants revenge for something I didn't do. He's spent five years building an empire with the sole purpose of crushing me. What he doesn't know is that I've spent those same five years preparing for this moment. Tomorrow, we meet. Tomorrow, the real game begins. And this time, I'm playing to win. ---