Tension Beneath Triumph

The morning light painted sharp angles through the windows of Blaze Enterprises, but the warmth didn't reach Arnold's office.

The celebration was over. The champagne glasses were cleared. Sterling Industries had been claimed like a trophy, but Arnold felt no triumph. Not anymore.

He stood by the window, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the city skyline, unmoved even as Lucas entered quietly and placed a manila folder on the desk.

"Latest surveillance. From last night," Lucas said. "There's something you need to see."

Arnold turned slowly, his expression unreadable. He opened the file and skimmed the contents—until his hand stilled on a photo.

Victor Sterling's private penthouse. And walking out of it... the same man who had trailed Lilith days ago. Specter.

Lucas spoke low. "We tracked him to a café this morning. Lilith's café."

Arnold's voice was like ice. "What did he do?"

"Nothing violent," Lucas said. "But it wasn't subtle. He approached her. Spoke directly. Our operative caught part of the audio. He told her Victor was losing patience—and that if she didn't act soon, there would be consequences."

Arnold's hands clenched into fists.

Lucas added, "She didn't look scared. Just... broken."

Arnold shut the folder.

He had been angry with Lilith for hiding the truth. Furious, even. But this? This was Victor pushing her again—digging his claws into someone who had already lived in the dark for too long.

"Double her security," Arnold said. "Discreet. I don't want her to know."

Lucas hesitated. "And what about Victor?"

Arnold's voice dropped. "He's not going to touch her. Not again. If he does—he won't walk away."