Chapter Six: Tides of Betrayal

Victor Hargrove spent the rest of the night pacing his penthouse. The city lights flickered outside, indifferent to the storm raging within him. His encounter with Jared had dredged up a truth he couldn't ignore: the foundation of his empire wasn't as unshakable as he had led himself to believe.

Jared's threat wasn't idle. That much was clear. The flash drive, the confidence in his voice, the venom behind his words—it all pointed to something dangerous. Victor had underestimated him once before, and it had nearly cost him everything. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

At dawn, he made the call.

"Angela," he said when she picked up.

"You're up early," she replied, her voice sharp and alert, as if she had been waiting for him.

"We have a problem," Victor said.

"I assumed as much when I saw Jared leaving the old office last night. What happened?"

Victor paused, his jaw tightening. "He has leverage. Something from Avalon."

Angela exhaled sharply. "You're sure?"

"He showed me a flash drive. Said it was proof. And he's pushing for me to walk away from Apex."

Angela was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was measured. "If Jared has evidence, we need to neutralize it. Quietly. No room for error."

"I don't need a lecture," Victor snapped. "I need a solution."

"And you'll get one," Angela replied evenly. "But you need to tell me the truth, Victor. How bad is this? What's on that drive?"

Victor hesitated. The weight of the secret bore down on him, the memory of Avalon's collapse flashing through his mind: the falsified reports, the shadow deals, the lies he had spun to protect himself.

"It's bad," he admitted. "If it gets out, it's not just my reputation on the line. It's the company, the board, everything."

Angela didn't respond immediately, and Victor could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. Finally, she said, "Then we'll make sure it doesn't get out. I'll have my team start digging into Jared's movements. He's not as untouchable as he thinks."

"Do it," Victor said. "And Angela—keep this contained. No one else can know."

"Understood," she replied before hanging up.

Victor tossed the phone onto the marble countertop and poured himself a coffee, though his hands were shaking too much to drink it. He wasn't a man who panicked. He thrived under pressure, relished the high-stakes game of corporate warfare. But this wasn't just about business. This was personal.

And personal battles had a way of leaving scars that never healed.

By midday, Angela's team had delivered their first report. Jared had been meeting with a reporter from The Herald, a publication notorious for tearing apart corporate titans. The meetings had been frequent, their locations discreet. Jared wasn't just playing for revenge—he was orchestrating a narrative.

Victor read the report in silence, his mind working through the implications. If Jared's story went public, it wouldn't just be about Avalon. The media would dig deeper, unearthing every questionable deal, every compromise Victor had made in his rise to power.

His phone buzzed with another call. This time, it was Margaret.

"What now?" Victor asked, his tone clipped.

"Good to hear your voice too," Margaret replied dryly. "I assume you've heard about Jared's little partnership with The Herald?"

Victor's silence was answer enough.

"I warned you," she continued. "Jared isn't bluffing. And if he has evidence, you need to deal with him before it's too late."

"Do you have anything useful to add, or are you just here to remind me of my failures?" Victor asked.

Margaret laughed softly, but there was no warmth in it. "Oh, Victor, you've always been so charming under pressure. Here's some free advice: stop playing defense. Jared's betting on you to react, to flail around while he sets the narrative. If you want to win, you need to take control."

Victor leaned back in his chair, her words sinking in. Margaret had a point, as much as he hated to admit it. Jared was forcing him to play catch-up, to fight on his terms.

"What do you suggest?" Victor asked finally.

"Simple," Margaret said. "Turn the board against him. Jared's still a pariah in corporate circles, thanks to Avalon. Use that. Paint him as a disgruntled failure looking for a scapegoat. Control the optics before he can. But…" she trailed off.

"But what?"

"You need to destroy whatever's on that drive," Margaret said, her voice deadly serious. "Because if you don't, none of this matters. Jared will win, and you'll lose everything."

Victor ended the call without replying.

That night, Victor sat in his study, staring at the city below. Angela had promised results within 48 hours, but every minute felt like an eternity. Jared's threat loomed over him like a storm cloud, and for the first time in years, Victor felt like a man on the edge of losing control.

His phone buzzed with a new message.

Jared: You think you can stop this? Try me. Midnight. The Pier.

Victor read the message twice, his anger rising. Jared was pushing him, daring him to make a move.

This wasn't just a game anymore. This was war.

Victor slipped his phone into his pocket and grabbed his coat. If Jared wanted a confrontation, he would get one.

But this time, Victor wouldn't hesitate.

Some battles weren't fought to win—they were fought to survive.