While White Cosmetics began its slow, painful journey toward an uneasy peace, Alex Charm watched from the sidelines, a furious, isolated figure. His father's clampdown on his power, coupled with the public sympathy now firmly on Snow's side, left him fuming. He had tried to stir up new dirt, to find a vulnerability in Snow's past that could shatter her relationship with Andreas, but every lead seemed to fizzle, every attempt to manipulate the narrative thwarted by Andreas's proactive defense and Snow's newfound strength.
He received regular reports from Kane, his security chief, who continued to discreetly monitor Snow and the Charm brothers. Kane, loyal only to Alex, found himself in a strange position. He had witnessed the unholy truth of Ravenna's desperation, and the quiet, almost miraculous, attempts at reconciliation. It was a messier, more human drama than the clean-cut corporate battles he was used to.
One evening, Alex summoned Kane. "Anything new?" he demanded, his voice clipped, impatience etched on his face. "Anything I can use? Something to prove Andreas is playing a long game? To prove Snow is still hiding something?"
Kane hesitated. He knew what Alex wanted. He had the information, the raw, unfiltered details of Snow's accidental role in her father's death, details even the recent media storm hadn't fully grasped. He also had footage of Ravenna's raw anguish, her twisted sense of protective loyalty. This was the ultimate weapon, the one that could decimate Snow, expose her vulnerability, and shatter Andreas's carefully constructed world.
But looking at Alex, consumed by bitterness, driven by pure malice, Kane felt a flicker of something he rarely experienced: unease. He had followed Alex for years, executed every ruthless order. But this felt different. This felt like destroying a fragile peace, hurting people who were genuinely trying to rebuild, for nothing more than spite.
"Sir," Kane said, his voice flat, "my reports indicate that Ms. White and her stepmother are… making progress. Slowly. And the company, White Cosmetics, is showing signs of stabilizing under their combined leadership, alongside Jeffrey."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "I didn't ask for your commentary on their 'progress,' Kane. I asked for leverage. The kind that destroys."
Kane met his gaze, his face impassive. "Sir, I have information. Details about Ms. White's father's death that could, indeed, cause immense damage. To Ms. White. To her stepmother. To the family, to everyone. It would be… devastating." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "But it would also paint Ms. White as the direct, albeit accidental, cause of her father's demise. It would destroy her, perhaps irrevocably. And it would destroy any chance of peace within that family, as per the late Mr. White's wishes."
Alex's eyes lit up with a dangerous gleam. "Perfect," he breathed, a cruel smile forming. "Give me everything. I want it leaked to every major outlet. I want her to finally pay the price."
But Kane didn't move. "Sir," he said, his voice softer than Alex had ever heard it. "Before I do, consider this. You wanted to win, to prove yourself. You have. You've cornered Ravenna, discredited Andreas in many eyes, and you've made Snow's life a living hell for months. Is destroying her utterly… truly what you want? Or is there a different kind of victory you seek?"
Alex stared at him, surprised by the unprecedented insubordination. He saw the cold logic in Kane's words, intertwined with a hint of a moral appeal. Destroying Snow completely might be satisfying, but it would also leave him with a desolate wasteland, a hollow victory over a broken woman. And it might reveal his own hand too clearly, further alienating him from his family, especially his father. The game was no longer about winning; it was about burning it all down. For the first time, Alex hesitated. The sheer, unadulterated evil of his next move suddenly felt… less appealing.