The rain tapped rhythmically against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Cole penthouse, echoing like distant war drums. Zara stood by the glass, her reflection layered against the moody skyline of Manhattan. Inside her, a storm brewed—one that no umbrella could shield her from.
She clutched a warm cup of tea between trembling fingers, but it did little to calm the cold that gripped her chest. Emeka. The name alone had reawakened every trauma she buried beneath confidence and couture. And now Abdul was coming. Her brother. Her last real tie to the life she left behind. And possibly a key to the man who'd made that life a nightmare.
Behind her, Damien walked in, freshly dressed in dark slacks and a black turtleneck, looking as calm and contained as ever.
"You haven't moved," he said softly.
"I couldn't," she replied, her voice brittle. "Somehow… knowing he's coming back into my life makes it real again. The fear. The helplessness. The girl I was."
Damien stepped beside her, gently taking the cup from her hands. "You're not that girl anymore."
She looked up at him. "What if I still feel like her?"
"Then let me remind you of who you are now."
His tone was steady, but in his eyes-those cold, calculating eyes—burned a fury he rarely let surface. Not toward her. But for her.
When the doorbell rang, Zara's pulse spiked. Damien had insisted they meet Abdul at the penthouse rather than any public place, preferring the security of controlled surroundings. Morgan and a few silent guards stood by out of sight, armed and alert.
Zara opened the door herself.
Abdul looked older. Tired. Haunted.
But the moment his eyes met hers, they softened with something she hadn't seen since their childhood—pure, untainted love.
"Zee…" he whispered.
She threw herself into his arms.
It was awkward at first—years of guilt and pain wedged between them—but she didn't care. Her body shook as she sobbed into his chest. For a few precious seconds, she let herself be the younger sister who had once looked up to him as her whole world.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry, Zara."
Damien watched from the doorway. Quiet. Observant. Arms folded across his chest.
When Zara pulled away, she turned to him. "Abdul, this is my… husband. Damien."
Abdul's jaw tightened. "The billionaire," he muttered. "Figures."
Damien stepped forward and extended a hand. "Nice to finally meet you."
Abdul ignored the hand. "I'll shake it when I believe you're good for her."
A tense silence settled. But Damien merely gave a slow nod. "Fair enough."
Zara sighed. "Let's sit down."
The three of them sat around the marble coffee table. Zara perched beside Damien, while Abdul remained upright on the edge of his seat, eyes darting between them.
"You said someone contacted you," Damien began, cutting to the chase. "Who?"
"I don't know. They used a voice scrambler," Abdul answered. "Said Emeka had resurfaced and that you were next."
Zara shivered.
"Why now?" Damien asked. "It's been five years."
"Because Emeka's no longer hiding in the shadows," Abdul said. "He's building something. Bigger than before. Legit businesses. Investments in tech and energy. Money laundering through shell corporations."
Damien's eyes narrowed. "You've seen proof?"
Abdul pulled out a flash drive and set it on the table. "Bank transfers. Company registrations. Fake board members. Offshore accounts. And this."
He tapped the drive. "A list of names. Zara's is on it. So is yours."
Zara sucked in a breath. "He's coming after us both?"
"Everyone who got away," Abdul said. "You weren't the only one.
Damien stood, pacing. "If he's resurfacing in the corporate world, he's aiming for legitimacy—at least on the surface."
Zara leaned in. "What does he really want?"
Abdul's voice lowered. "Power. And revenge."
Later that evening, Damien called a private meeting with Morgan and a few of his most trusted allies.
Zara listened from the doorway but didn't enter. She was beginning to understand that Damien operated on a level she hadn't yet dared to imagine.
"We can't alert the authorities," Morgan said. "Not until we know who's compromised. If Emeka has government strings…"
"He does," Abdul confirmed. "That's how he disappeared in the first place."
Damien remained still, processing. Then he turned to Morgan. "We need surveillance on his movements. Deep net scans. Financial forensics. Get me everything."
"And Zara?" Morgan asked.
"She stays with me. Every second."
Zara finally stepped into the room. "That's not your decision alone."
Damien's eyes flicked to her. "It is if it means keeping you alive."
Abdul raised a brow. "You two really are married."
Zara crossed her arms. "You don't control me, Damien."
"No," he replied. "But I'll fight to protect you whether you want me to or not."
"And if I choose to fight too?" she challenged.
His lips twitched. "Then we fight together."
The following morning brought little comfort.
A surprise board meeting had been scheduled. Rumors were spreading that Zara's presence in the company was causing instability. That Damien was distracted. Weak. And when power senses weakness, it moves in.
Zara was dressed in a navy sheath dress, sleek and commanding. She tied her hair back, slipped into stilettos, and painted confidence over her fear.
As they walked into the boardroom together, Damien leaned in and murmured, "They're expecting the puppet."
Zara smirked. "They're about to meet the puppeteer."
The room quieted when she took her seat beside Damien. Eight pairs of eyes stared at her—some curious, some hostile.
Victor Langston, one of the older board members and a known corporate shark, cleared his throat. "Mr. Cole. Mrs. Cole. There have been… concerns."
"About what exactly?" Damien asked coolly.
"About distraction. About personal choices interfering with company performance. About nepotism."
Zara smiled, deadly sweet. "I see. So we're concerned that a woman who graduated top of her MBA class at Columbia and turned three failing departments profitable in six months is unqualified… because she married her boss?"
Langston blinked. "Well—"
"Because if that's the concern," she continued, "then perhaps we need to review performance across this table."
Gasps. Silence.
Damien's lips curved slightly.
Zara wasn't just fighting for her place. She was taking her crown.