Chapter 8
Tiffany
T he late afternoon sunlight filters through the blinds, casting elongated shadows across the papers scattered on the conference table. I lean back in my chair, rubbing my eyes as I try to focus on the complex financial projections. It’s been a few days since the gala, and the only reason I dragged myself out of bed for this meeting was because it promised a distraction from my wallowing.
You did it to yourself , I remind myself, feeling a familiar sting in my chest.
Across the table, Alexander is bent over a stack of files, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“These expansion plans are quite ambitious.” I break the silence that has settled over us for the past hour.
Alexander looks up, a wry smile playing on his lips. “They are, indeed. But the first step is to get this company to a place where we can start rolling out these plans. We need to digitize our records and ensure that we have a reliable system in place.”
I nod, my eyes drifting back to the papers. There is a reason why all the paperwork for the company is not stored on cloud-based servers and why everything is still done manually—it’s easier to manipulate and hide the tracks of shady dealings. Even if people find out something fishy, the documentation is scattered and in disarray, making it hard to hold anyone accountable.
It’s a necessary step, but I’ll have to oversee every detail personally to ensure no loose ends are left behind. The last thing we need is for our past to come back and haunt us now, just as we’re trying to rebuild.
“I’ll handle the transition.”
“Good.”
I notice the faint shadows under his eyes. He looks as tired as I feel. “How’s Olivia handling all of this?”
“She’s managing. She puts on a brave face, but I know she’s worried about you.”
I stiffen. “I’m fine.”
“Are you? I don’t know you that well, but we’re going to be family soon, Tiffany. And I care about Olivia, which means I care about you too. If something’s bothering you, our door is always open.”
“Thank you, Alexander. That means a lot.” I smile. “We have yet to talk about it, but my sister is the most important person in my life. Marrying into our family won’t be easy, but Olivia deserves someone who will stand by her, no matter what. And from what I’ve seen, you’ve done that. Not only for her, but for me too. I appreciate that, and I wanted to give you my blessing, for whatever it’s worth.” I pause, meeting his gaze. “Just... don’t ever hurt her. She’s been through enough already.”
Alexander’s expression softens, and he nods solemnly. “I have no intention of hurting her, Tiffany. I love her. And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she’s happy and safe.”
I believe him. There’s a sincerity in his voice that’s hard to ignore. Olivia deserves this—someone who will love her without conditions, without hidden agendas.
“Good,” I say, more to myself than to him. “Now, let’s get back to these projections. If we’re going to make this work, we need to be thorough.”
After work, the sun is still high in the sky, and a gentle breeze tugs at my hair, carrying the scent of falling leaves through the open window. I decide to take the scenic route home, enjoying the peaceful drive and the changing colors of the leaves.
As I turn onto Oak Street and approach the next intersection, a pair of headlights flare to life in my rearview mirror. My breath catches in my throat when I realize how close the car is—far too close for comfort.
I tap my brake pedal, hoping they’ll take the hint and back off. Instead, the car surges even closer, its front bumper now mere inches from my rear fender.
My palms grow sweaty on the steering wheel.
I consider pulling over, but something—instinct, maybe—tells me that would be a mistake. Instead, I press down on the accelerator, my little sedan whining in protest as I urge it faster.
The car behind matches my speed, staying glued to my bumper.
Suddenly, a shrill honk pierces the air, making me jump in my seat. The car’s horn blares again, longer this time, an angry, demanding sound.
Without warning, the car behind me swerves violently to the left. In a blur of motion, it cuts in front of me, tires screeching against the asphalt.
“Crap, crap, crap.” I slam my foot on the brake pedal with all my might. The car lurches forward, the seat belt digging into my chest as I’m thrown against it. My head slams against the steering wheel, my vision momentarily going dark.
The acrid smell of burning rubber fills the air as my tires fight for traction. Time seems to slow, each second stretching into an eternity as I watch the gap between our cars rapidly shrink. My mind races, calculating distances, speeds, and probabilities—all useless in the face of impending disaster.
Just when I’m certain a collision is inevitable, my car shudders to a halt, mere inches from the other vehicle’s rear bumper. The sudden silence is deafening, broken only by my ragged breathing and the tick-tick-tick of cooling metal.
Before I can even process what just happened, movement catches my eye. Two men emerge from the car in front, their motions fluid and purposeful. Straight away, I notice the glint of metal in their hands. Guns. My blood runs cold.
This can’t be happening again , I think, frozen in place as they approach. Their faces are hard, expressionless, eyes locked on me with predatory focus. I want to run, to scream, to do something, but fear has me paralyzed.
As they draw nearer, I can see the icy determination in their eyes, the set of their jaws. These aren’t random thugs—there’s a purpose behind their actions, a dangerous intent that terrifies me more than any petty criminal ever could.
My mind scrambles for options, for some way out of this nightmare. But as the men reach my car, their hands moving towards the door handles, I realize with sickening clarity that I’m completely, utterly trapped.
The taller man yanks open my door, his gun now clearly visible.
I manage to remain calm and sit up straight, pretending that I have everything under control. After all, it’s not my first rodeo. “Hello, is there something I can assist you with?”
“Miss Carter,” the second man leans in, his face twisted with impatience. “We gave you extra time because of your uncle’s passing, but you’re not taking us seriously. Our patience is running out.”
My mind races, trying to piece together what they could possibly want. I force my voice to stay steady, though my heart is about to burst through my chest. “I’m sorry for my tardiness.” I clear my throat. “I’ve been working through the backlog of tasks left by my uncle. His sudden death was a shock, and I haven’t had time to sort through everything yet. Can you tell me what my uncle promised you? I will do whatever I can to fulfill his obligations.”
The men exchange a look.
The first man’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he spits out, “Five shipments. Two thousand units each. Your uncle was supposed to deliver. Ring any bells now, sweetheart?”
Ten thousand units of what?
“Can you clarify what the product is?”
“Don’t play dumb,” the first man warns as he grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. “Do not make us come back here. I’m sure that wouldn’t be pleasant for either of us.”
He loosens his grip and steps back, wearing a self-satisfied grin.
“We’ll be in touch,” he says before joining the other man, who gives me a final threatening look.
As the men retreat to their car, I grip the steering wheel, knuckles white, and try to steady my breathing. The enormity of what just happened crashes over me like a tidal wave.
Ten thousand units. End of the week. Or else.
Who are these men? What is this product they’re after? And why are they so desperate for it to be delivered quickly?
As the initial surge of adrenaline wears off, a cold fear seeps into my bones.
I am hopelessly out of my depth; I will never be able to deliver on the promises made by my uncle.
At that moment, only one name comes to mind—the only person who could save me.
Adrien.