21. Leslie The Takedown Begins
Leslie: The Takedown Begins
Kyle’s chest is warm beneath my cheek, his steady heartbeat a rhythmic comfort. I close my eyes, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with sleep.
If I could freeze this moment, I would. Just the two of us, tangled in sheets, no scandals, no betrayals, no corporate wars—just him and me.
But reality always creeps in.
His fingers trace lazy circles on my back, his voice low and firm. “I’m on it.”
I raise my head a little and look up at him. “How?” I frown. “What exactly are you doing? Because right now, we’re just lying in bed, and I don’t see anything happening.”
Kyle smirks, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “Patience, troublemaker. I have a private investigator working on it.”
My eyes widen slightly. “You do?”
He nods, scrolling through his contacts. “And I think he should have something for me already. He asked me to check in this morning.” He presses a button, and a moment later, a gruff voice answers.
“You’ve got something for me?” Kyle asks, putting the call on speaker.
“Plenty,” the private investigator replies. “I pulled Amanda’s call records. She’s been in constant contact with a particular number—calls almost every day for the last month.”
Kyle’s grip on the phone tightens. “Whose number?”
“Anthony Reeves.”
My breath catches.
Kyle exhales sharply. “That proves she’s been working with him this whole time.”
“There’s more,” the PI continues. “I tracked down the journalist who posted those pictures of you and Leslie. I offered him money and a bigger story if he talked. Turns out, Amanda didn’t just tip him off—she orchestrated everything.
She personally gave him the pictures to upload and paid him to write more damning content about Theo during his scandal. ”
Kyle’s jaw tightens. “Do you have proof?”
“I do. He agreed to speak on the record. I also have the call logs and even the original picture Amanda sent for the tabloid post.”
I let out a slow breath, but the PI isn’t done.
“There’s something else—you’re going to want to see this. I checked her bank statements. She made multiple payments to the reporter, all from an unregistered offshore account. But guess what? The same account received deposits from a company owned by Anthony Reeves.”
Kyle and I exchange a look.
This isn’t just a setup.
It’s a full-blown conspiracy.
Kyle clenches his jaw. “I need everything. Hard copies.”
“I’ll have them ready in an hour.”
Kyle ends the call and tosses the phone onto the bed.
I push up onto my elbows, my pulse hammering. “So that’s it. We have her.”
“We have her,” Kyle confirms, his voice laced with satisfaction. Then he exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “But why? Amanda has always been ambitious, but she’s never crossed the line like this. She’s been helpful all along—why turn now?”
I shake my head. “And Anthony? He’s your rival, sure, but why would he get involved in something like this? Taking me down doesn’t benefit him.”
Kyle’s eyes darken. “Unless it’s not about you.”
A chill runs down my spine. “You think this is about you?”
“Or the company,” he mutters. “Reeves has been circling for years, waiting for an opportunity. Maybe Amanda was his way in.”
My stomach twists at the thought.
Kyle sits up, already shifting into action mode. “I need to pick up those files myself.”
I nod, adrenaline flooding my veins. “I’m coming with you.”
“No.” His hand wraps around my wrist, gentle but firm. “I need you at the office.”
I blink. “Kyle, I’m still suspended—”
He meets my gaze, unwavering. “I know. I suspended you.” His voice is firm, final. “And it's time you get back to where you belong.”
And with that, the takedown begins.
***
The morning air is crisp as I step out of the car, the familiar Starz Management building towering in front of me. My stomach tightens, but I push forward.
I’m not supposed to be here. I’m still on suspension. But I’m done waiting.
I swipe my ID at the entrance, half-expecting security to stop me. They don’t. Either no one updated the system, or they just don’t care enough to enforce it.
My heels click against the marble floor as I make my way through the lobby. Heads turn. Some employees whisper. Others just stare, unsure whether to acknowledge me or pretend I don’t exist.
Let them talk.
I step into the elevator, press the button for my floor, and lean against the cool metal wall.
Today, I get my life back.
The doors slide open, and before I can take two steps, Mia rushes toward me, eyes wide with panic.
“What are you doing here?” she hisses, grabbing my arm. “Leslie, you’re still suspended!”
I gently pry her hand off me and keep walking. “I came to work.”
Mia hurries beside me, lowering her voice. “You can’t just stroll in like nothing happened! What if they—”
“I don’t care,” I cut in, pushing open the door to my office. Everything is exactly as I left it—neat, orderly, untouched. The sight makes my chest tighten.
I walk over to my chair and sink into it, running my fingers across the desk. “God, I missed this.”
Mia exhales, crossing her arms. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”
Before I can answer, a slow, mocking clap echoes from the hallway.
My spine stiffens.
Amanda.
She stands at my office door, arms folded, smirking like the cat that swallowed the canary.
“Well, well, well,” she drawls. “Look who’s back.”
Mia stiffens beside me, but I stay seated, fingers curling around the armrests of my chair.
I won’t let her see me flinch.
Amanda steps into the doorway, taking her time. Her heels click against the floor with every slow step.
“I have to admit,” she says, her voice syrupy sweet, “I admire your persistence. But you do know this is over, right?”
I lift my chin, refusing to look away.
Amanda’s smirk widens. “Oh, Leslie. Sweet, desperate Leslie. Suspended, reputation in ruins, career in free fall . . . and yet, here you are. Clinging to hope like a drowning woman.”
Mia bristles beside me, but I place a hand on her arm, silently telling her to let it go.
Amanda leans in slightly, lowering her voice. “Kyle won’t save you. He never does.”
My pulse pounds, but I force a smile, meeting her gaze head-on.
“You’re right.” My voice is steady. “Because I don’t need saving.”
For a second—just a flicker—her smirk falters.
And I hold onto that as she walks away.
Time crawls.
Mia watches me, her arms crossed. “I can’t believe you just walked in like that.”
I smirk. “Neither can Amanda.”
Mia snorts but before she can respond, movement catches our attention. A group of board members walk into the conference room down the hall, their expressions unreadable.
Something’s happening.
Then Kyle walks in, a thick folder in his hands, his expression dark and unreadable. He doesn’t glance my way as he heads straight into the conference room, the heavy doors shutting behind him.
Mia and I exchange a look.
And we wait.
Thirty minutes pass. Then an hour.
The door swings open again, and a stern-looking assistant steps out. She walks directly to my office. “The board would like to see you,” she announces.
Amanda has also been summoned from her office.
I push my chair back and rise. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, but I force my steps to stay steady.
The moment we step into the conference room, I feel the shift in the air.
Kyle stands at the head of the long mahogany table, his presence commanding, his expression ice-cold.
“This,” he says, tossing the thick file onto the table, “is proof of Amanda’s direct involvement in Leslie's alleged misconduct.” His voice is calm, measured, but the anger beneath it simmers. “Emails. Call logs. Bank transfers. All linking her to Anthony Reeves.”
Murmurs ripple through the board members.
Amanda freezes beside me.
Kyle continues, flipping through the pages. “She fabricated evidence against Leslie. She fed false information to the media. She actively worked with Reeves to manipulate this company’s leadership.”
One of the senior board members—a graying man in an expensive suit—leans forward. “How do we know this isn’t forged?”
Kyle doesn’t flinch. “I hired a third-party investigator. Every record has been verified.”
Silence.
Then, one of the other board members—the one who had been most vocal about removing me—adjusts his glasses. “Amanda,” he says, his voice neutral, “is this true?”
All eyes turn to her.
For a second, she says nothing. Then she forces a laugh, shaking her head. “You can’t seriously be buying this—”
“Answer the question,” Kyle cuts in, his voice sharp.
Amanda’s confidence cracks, just a little. “I—this is ridiculous. He’s just trying to protect his little girlfriend.”
A woman at the far end of the table clears her throat. “The evidence says otherwise.”
The graying board member nods. “Effective immediately, Amanda, you’re terminated from Starz Management.” He exhales, his expression grave. “But this isn’t just a termination matter. Given the evidence against you, you’ll be held here until the authorities arrive.”
Amanda’s face drains of color.
Another board member—a woman who had once been skeptical of me—looks my way. “Leslie,” she says, her voice softer. “We owe you an apology. We acted on misinformation, and in doing so, we failed you. That won’t happen again.”
A murmur of agreement sweeps through the room.
I swallow, my throat tight. I didn’t expect this.
Kyle’s gaze meets mine, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. He knew this wasn’t just about clearing my name. It was about restoring what was taken from me.
Before I can respond, the doors open, and two uniformed police officers step inside.
Amanda stiffens.
One officer steps forward, his tone firm. “Amanda Clarke, you’re under arrest for fraud, corporate espionage, and defamation. Please come with us.”
“No,” Amanda breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t—”
The second officer produces a pair of handcuffs, and Amanda takes a step back, panic flashing across her face. “I—This is a mistake! I was just—”
“Ms. Clarke,” the officer interrupts, “we can do this the easy way, or we can do it with restraints.”
For the first time since this started, Amanda looks truly afraid.
Her gaze darts to Kyle, then to me. “Leslie . . .”
I say nothing.
She betrayed this company. She framed me. She made her choice.
And now she’s facing the consequences.
The officers escort Amanda out, her heels dragging against the floor. The tension in the room slowly dissipates.
One of the board members clears his throat. “Given the financial trail linking Reeves to Amanda, we have reason to believe Anthony Reeves orchestrated this. We’ll be handing this over to the authorities for a full investigation.”
Kyle nods, his expression unreadable. “Good.”
Another board member turns to me. “Leslie, we appreciate your patience throughout this situation. You’re free to go for now—we have other matters to discuss.”
I swallow and nod. “Thank you.”
As I step out of the conference room, a wave of emotions crashes over me. Relief. Exhaustion.
Back in my office, I settle into my chair—my chair—and let out a long, shaky breath.
Finally. My name is clear. I’m back.
My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen.
Unknown Number: You think it’s over? It’s not. This is just the beginning.
A chill races down my spine. But Amanda is gone.