Chapter Nine: Lines in the Sand

The hum of Victor's private jet filled the cabin as it cruised over the Atlantic. Angela sat across from him, her laptop open and her brow furrowed in concentration. The flight wasn't about business expansion or closing a deal—it was a strategic retreat to recalibrate and plan their next move. Victor had insisted on a face-to-face meeting with his legal and public relations teams, away from the constant distractions of New York.

"I spoke with Elliott Kane," Angela said without looking up. "He's still on the fence about running Jared's story, but he's digging for more sources. Jared's positioning himself as a whistleblower, framing you as a tyrant who buried the truth about Avalon."

Victor sipped his coffee, unbothered by the turbulence that rattled the jet. "Kane's young. He wants his big break. Feed him just enough misinformation to keep him chasing his tail."

Angela arched an eyebrow. "You're playing with fire. If he sniffs out the deception, it could backfire."

Victor met her gaze, his voice cool. "Then make sure he doesn't. That's why I pay you, Angela."

She sighed but nodded, turning back to her laptop. Victor's confidence was unshakable, but Angela had worked with him long enough to know that even the best-laid plans could crumble under the weight of public scrutiny.

By the time the jet landed in London, Victor had shifted his focus. The meeting with his team was productive, albeit tense. Legal counsel outlined the potential fallout of Jared's accusations, while the PR team brainstormed ways to spin the narrative. Victor's instructions were clear: Jared's claims, if they surfaced, would be framed as the desperate lies of a disgruntled former associate.

After the meeting, Victor found himself alone in a conference room overlooking the Thames. The city stretched out before him, its lights reflecting off the river in shimmering patterns. He couldn't ignore the irony—he was in one of the financial capitals of the world, plotting to silence a man who once trusted him implicitly.

The door creaked open, and Margaret Caldwell stepped inside.

"You're a hard man to track down," she said, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

Victor didn't turn around. "I didn't realize I needed to inform you of my travel plans."

Margaret chuckled, taking a seat at the table. "You're underestimating Jared," she said bluntly. "He's not the same man you crushed at Avalon. He's smarter now. More calculated."

Victor finally turned to face her. "Is that why you're here? To lecture me on Jared's newfound brilliance?"

"No," Margaret said, leaning forward. "I'm here because I know how this ends if you don't change your approach. Jared doesn't just want revenge—he wants to dismantle everything you've built. You can't keep treating this like a corporate takeover."

Victor's jaw tightened. "Then what do you suggest?"

Margaret hesitated, her expression softening. "I suggest you find a way to settle this without destroying each other. Because if you keep pushing, there won't be anything left for either of you to win."

Victor let out a bitter laugh. "You think Jared wants peace? He's been waiting for this moment for years. He doesn't want a settlement—he wants blood."

Margaret's gaze didn't waver. "And what do you want, Victor? To beat him? To bury him so deep he can't ever claw his way back? Or are you just trying to protect the version of yourself you've sold to the world?"

Her words hung in the air, heavy and unanswerable. Victor turned back to the window, his reflection staring back at him.

"This isn't about what I want," he said quietly. "It's about what's necessary."

Margaret stood, smoothing the lapels of her blazer. "Just remember, Victor. Sometimes winning costs more than losing. Make sure you're ready to pay the price."

She walked out, leaving Victor alone with his thoughts.

Later that night, Victor sat in his hotel suite, his mind racing. Margaret's words had unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He was a man of strategy, of calculated risks and precise execution. But this battle with Jared felt different—messy, personal, and unpredictable.

His phone buzzed on the table. It was a text from Angela.

Angela: We found something. Jared's been funding a small tech startup in Brooklyn. Looks like he's using it to bankroll his crusade against you. Details in your inbox.

Victor's lips curled into a grim smile. Jared had made his first mistake.

He picked up his phone and dialed Angela.

"Keep digging," he said when she answered. "Find out everything you can about that startup. Who's involved, where the money's going, everything. If Jared wants a war, we'll give him one."

Angela hesitated. "Victor…are you sure you want to escalate this?"

"Jared made his choice," Victor said coldly. "Now I'm making mine."

He hung up, leaning back in his chair as the city lights sparkled outside. The lines had been drawn, and Victor Hargrove was determined to come out on top.

No matter the cost.