Chapter Thirteen: Bianca's Return, Bianca's Ruin

Amira Clark didn't flinch at the chip in Lucas's hand. She didn't ask questions. She didn't blink. She already knew what it meant.

Noah Black had just declared war on her legacy.

But before she could strike back, the devil from her past showed up at her gates—again.

"Bianca Rowe is downstairs," Casey announced over the comms. "She's requesting a private audience."

Lucas looked up from the server scans. "You want me to throw her out?"

Amira didn't hesitate. "Let her up."

Lucas raised a brow. "Seriously?"

"I said," Amira replied coolly, "let her in."

She adjusted her cuffs and stood at the window, back turned, voice quiet but lethal. "It's time I bury her for good."

Three minutes later, the doors opened.

Bianca Rowe strolled in like nothing had happened, like she hadn't tried to sabotage Clark Dynamics six months ago, like she hadn't aligned with Clara, leaked confidential data, or insulted Amira on a private group chat that was no longer private.

She wore a white designer jumpsuit with gold accents, her lips painted red like blood, her eyes gleaming with smug confidence.

"Amira," she began with a fake smile. "I missed you."

Amira didn't turn. "Sit."

Bianca sat.

She launched into a rehearsed speech. "I was used. Clara manipulated me. I didn't know what I was doing. I made mistakes, but I never stopped loving you. Our friendship meant the world to me, I swear—"

"Spare me the script." Amira finally turned around. Her eyes were diamond-sharp. "If you came here to lie, at least hire a better writer."

Bianca blinked, smile faltering. "Amira, I came to make peace."

"You came to save face," Amira replied. "But today? You're going to lose it."

Before Bianca could respond, the doors opened again.

Three department heads walked in—senior staff Amira had trusted for over a decade.

"What is this?" Bianca demanded, standing.

Amira said nothing. She pressed a button on the remote in her hand. The wall behind her flickered to life with a massive screen.

A video began to play.

Bianca's voice filled the room, dripping with arrogance. "Amira's nothing. A fraud in heels. I made her. And now I'll ruin her."

Bianca's jaw dropped. "That's not—"

"Your voice," Amira said flatly. "Your face. Your betrayal. Recorded three weeks ago at the Rose Garden hotel. You wanted attention, Bianca? You just got it."

Bianca turned red. "This is illegal—"

"No, Bianca. What you did was illegal. Corporate espionage. Slander. And since you won't admit it, I've already shared the clip with all major media outlets. You're trending."

Bianca's phone buzzed. And buzzed again. And again.

She picked it up—just in time to see her own betrayal going viral.

Bianca froze. "You can't do this."

"I already did."

Bianca's eyes filled with panic. "I'll sue you!"

Amira walked closer, stopping inches away from her trembling face. "You think any court in this country will hear your case after what you said on tape?"

"I was angry!"

"And I'm merciless."

Amira picked up her phone and turned it toward Bianca. "Look familiar?" she asked.

It was a confidential email Bianca had sent to Vivienne Vale—Amira's competitor—offering to trade Clark Dynamics' prototype schematics for $1.5 million.

Bianca's legs wobbled. "That was fake—"

"Authenticated. Traced to your IP. With a timestamp and location. The only thing fake here was our friendship."

Bianca's voice cracked. "Please. Don't do this—"

Amira slapped her across the face. Loud. Precise. Brutal. The entire room went silent.

Bianca gasped, holding her cheek. "You hit me—!"

"No. That was mercy. The real hit comes next."

She walked to her desk and handed Bianca an envelope. "This is a lawsuit. Defamation. Corporate theft. Breach of NDA. Your entire future just died on paper."

Bianca tried to rip the file, but Amira grabbed her hand and twisted her wrist to the table.

"Try that again," she said, her voice cold, "and I'll break it."

Bianca stared at her, wide-eyed. "You were never this cruel…"

Amira leaned in. "No. I just used to be naive."

Security entered.

Bianca backed up. "Amira, I'm begging you."

"You should've begged before you sold me out."

She turned her back as the guards dragged Bianca away, screaming, sobbing, cursing her name.

Lucas walked in just as Bianca's wails faded down the hall.

"She deserved that," he said, impressed. "You're not holding back anymore."

"I don't have the luxury."

He handed her a silver data drive. "The chip. It's from your father's original encryption vault. Noah was trying to access a weaponized AI prototype you two developed as kids."

Amira stared at it. "The Black Cipher."

Lucas nodded. "We have ten days before he cracks it."

She clenched her jaw. "Then in five days, I'll burn his whole operation to the ground."

Lucas raised a brow. "You're planning something."

"I'm not planning, Lucas." Her voice was steel. "I'm declaring war."

And this time, there will be no mercy. No warning. Just destruction.

Bianca's screams echoed faintly as security dragged her down the hallway. The glass doors sealed behind her like the closing of a vault—final, merciless and permanent.

Amira didn't move. She stood at the head of the war room table, staring down at the data drive Lucas had placed in her palm. Her fingers curled around the metal like it was a trigger.

"Was she working with Noah?" Amira asked, her voice low and calm.

Lucas shook his head. "She's just an opportunist. She wanted to sell your legacy for a taste of relevance. Noah's playing a different game."

She turned the data drive between her fingers, eyes narrowing. "Then it's time we get ahead of him."

Lucas leaned forward. "The Black Cipher… it wasn't just a prototype. It was a map. You and Noah built a model for decentralized AI control. It could override military-grade systems if completed."

Amira didn't need the reminder. She had written half the code. The rest? She buried it the day Noah betrayed her.

But now he wanted to finish what they started.

"Noah thinks this is a race," she said sharply. "It's not. It's a trap. And he just stepped into it."

Lucas raised a brow. "You want to bait him?"

Amira's lips curved slightly. "Not bait. I want to make him believe he's already won."

She walked to her desk and tapped the side panel. A secret drawer slid open, revealing a black-coded cube with blinking blue edges—one of the few access keys her father left behind before he died.

"I'll recompile the dead key protocol tonight," she said. "And then we leak it."

Lucas frowned. "If he gets even a glimpse—"

"He'll come running. That's the plan. When he does, I want every traceable fingerprint logged. Every port scanned. I want to know where he is, who's funding him, and what system he's using to stay hidden."

Lucas nodded. "And when we find him?"

"We erase him," Amira replied. "For good this time."

As she gave the final instruction, her phone buzzed again. She glanced at the screen—and this time, her jaw clenched.

"What is it?" Lucas asked.

Amira turned the screen toward him.

It was a headline.

"CEO AMIRA CLARK ASSAULTS EX-FRIEND LIVE IN OFFICE – LEGAL ACTION PENDING."

Bianca had leaked the slap. A low-resolution clip taken by one of the guards, twisted with fake commentary and anonymous statements claiming Amira was unstable.

Lucas exhaled. "This woman doesn't stop."

"She's desperate," Amira said. "And I'm not done teaching her lessons."

She turned back to the terminal and began typing rapidly.

"What are you doing?" Lucas asked.

Amira's fingers flew across the keys. "Setting up a full data dump. Every skeleton in Bianca Rowe's closet. The fake charities, the stolen trust fund money, the ex-assistants she bullied into silence. I want everything released in the next hour, through five independent press outlets."

Lucas grinned. "Face slaps six, seven, eight, and nine?"

Amira nodded. "By the time I'm done, she won't be able to afford a bus pass, let alone a lawyer."

He stepped back, giving her space. "You're rebuilding your empire with iron."

"I'm rebuilding it with vengeance."

Minutes later, the files were encrypted and loaded onto an automated timed-release. Bianca Rowe would soon be nothing more than a cautionary tale in every industry conference. A disgrace, archived.

As Amira stood, brushing invisible dust from her suit jacket, Lucas handed her a folder.

"This came in from the security team. Someone accessed your mother's medical file again. Remote login. Masked IP."

Amira froze. "When?"

"Ten minutes ago. Traced back to the same signal pattern Noah used during the last breach attempt."

She grabbed the file and flipped through the logs. Her heart didn't skip—it hardened.

"He's not just coming for me. He's coming for everything I love."

Lucas watched her carefully. "What do we do?"

Amira's eyes gleamed with fury. "We make him regret ever learning how to type."

She walked past Lucas, her heels loud and sharp.

"Tell the drone unit to go live. I want every satellite, every sensor pointed at the last coordinates we found him in."

"Right now?"

Amira glanced over her shoulder. "Right now."

And just like that, the room turned into a command center. Lights flickered. Panels activated. The hum of surveillance systems filled the air.

The trap had been set.

And Amira Clark was ready to end this.

Once and for all.