Chapter 27 #2
“We worked hard on this campaign,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Caleb and I have been here night after night making this perfect. I’m not going to let you ruin the launch tomorrow.
” I grip the mug tighter, my knuckles whitening.
“We have a yacht full of investors coming, and everything has to be perfect.”
Steven’s smile fades. “That’s not up to you.”
His hand moves toward his pocket, and I don’t hesitate. I fling my coffee directly at his face. The hot liquid splashes across his eyes and cheeks. He staggers backward, screaming in pain, and I seize my opportunity.
Still clinging to his laptop, I run for the door, shoving past him while he’s clawing at his face. My heart pounds in my ears as I sprint down the hallway toward the elevators, jabbing frantically at the call button.
“EVE!” His roar echoes behind me, followed by the sound of footsteps.
Shit, shit, shit!
The elevator gears are cranking their way up, the slow buzz rattling against the nerves of my body, but it’s taking too long.
I hear him getting closer, and panic surges through me.
I abandon the elevator and dash toward the emergency exit, slamming through the door into the stairwell.
The cold metal stairs echo with my footsteps as I race downward.
I have to call Caleb. Why didn’t I bring my phone? I left it charging at my desk, too focused on getting coffee to grab it. What a stupid mistake.
I’m three flights down when I hear the stairwell door bang open above me. Steven’s voice bounces off the concrete walls. “You’re making this worse for yourself!” I run faster, clutching the laptop to my chest. If I can just get to the security desk in the lobby...
I’m almost at the main floor when the sound of a door opening below stops me in my tracks. I look down over the railing, and my stomach drops. Steven stands there, blocking my path, chest heaving. The elevator I called must have finally arrived, and he took it down.
“Give me the laptop, Eve.” His voice is eerily calm now. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m not letting you ruin months of hard work.” My voice shakes, but I stand my ground, slowly backing up the stairs. “What did they offer you? Money? A promotion?”
His eyes narrow. “Both, actually. Half a million and head of marketing at Perry Time Yachts.”
The betrayal stings worse than I expected. “So you’d destroy everything we’ve built here for that?”
“In a heartbeat.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Now give me the laptop.”
When I don’t move, his patience shatters. He lunges up the stairs toward me, and I turn to run, but he’s faster than I anticipated. His fingers close around my ankle, and I stumble.
The laptop slips from my grasp, skidding across the landing. I kick out wildly, connecting with his shoulder. He grunts but doesn’t let go. Instead, he pulls something from his pocket—a small switchblade that flicks open with a metallic snap.
My blood runs cold. This isn’t just corporate espionage anymore.
“I tried to do this the easy way,” he snarls, the knife glinting in the emergency lights. He reaches for me, blade extended, and I brace myself for pain—but it never comes.
“I don’t think so!” The roar echoes through the stairwell as a figure launches from above, taking Steven completely by surprise.
Joshua slams into Steven like a freight train, sending them both crashing against the wall.
The knife clatters down the stairs, and Steven lets out a shocked grunt as Joshua pulls him into a headlock.
“Been waiting for you to show your true colors, you son of a bitch!” Joshua’s face is flushed with exertion and anger, his usual easygoing demeanor completely gone.
Steven recovers from his shock quickly, driving his elbow into Joshua’s stomach. They break apart, then collide again in a furious tangle of limbs, grappling dangerously close to the stairwell edge.
“Eve, take the laptop and run!” Joshua shouts, landing a solid punch that makes Steven stagger.
I grab the laptop and dash up the stairs, not looking back. Behind me, the sounds of the struggle continue—grunts, the thud of blows landing, a sickening crack followed by Joshua’s cry of pain.
I burst through the door onto the closest floor, running as fast as my legs will carry me.
The hallway stretches endlessly before me, my panicked breaths loud in my ears.
The service elevator on the other end of the hall is too far.
There’s no time. But I have to try anyway.
The empty offices around me appear and disappear in the darkness as I run forward.
I hear footsteps pounding behind me, gaining rapidly. Steven must have overpowered Joshua. “There’s nowhere to go, Eve!” Steven’s voice echoes down the corridor, much closer than I expected. The rain pounds against the windows, thunder cracking so loudly the glass vibrates.
My lungs burn as I weigh my options. I could try to lock myself in one of the conference rooms, but he’d break through eventually. I need to get to security or find someone—anyone—who can help.
I hear the elevator ding in the distance, and my heart leaps with hope. The doors slide open, and relief fills through me as Caleb steps out, followed closely by Ethan.
I sprint toward them, the laptop clutched tightly against my chest. “Caleb!” But before I can reach them, a hand grabs my hair, yanking me backward with brutal force. The laptop tumbles from my arms, skidding across the polished floor as Steven spins me around.
“You little—” he doesn’t finish the sentence. His fist drives into my stomach, doubling me over as the air rushes from my lungs in a painful gasp. My knees buckle, and I struggle to breathe, to speak, to warn them.
“Get off her!” Caleb’s shout echoes down the hallway, raw and filled with fury. Through watering eyes, I see him charging toward us, his face transformed with rage. His usual calculated demeanor is gone, replaced by something primal and dangerous.
He doesn’t slow down as he approaches—instead, he barrels into Steven with the full force of his momentum, sending all three of us sprawling.
I’m knocked free, sliding across the floor as Caleb and Steven crash into the wall.
The impact is violent, and for a moment they’re just a blur of motion, grappling and striking.
“You son of a bitch,” Caleb snarls, his voice barely recognizable. He drives his fist into Steven’s face with a sickening crack.
The rest of his threat dissolves into incoherent rage as he slams Steven against the wall repeatedly.
His face is flushed, eyes wild, jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscles bulging.
Steven tries to fight back, but Caleb is relentless, moving with a violent precision that speaks of more than just adrenaline.
He manages to pin Steven against the wall, forearm jammed across his throat.
“Caleb—” Ethan’s warning shout comes too late. Through the pain, I see Steven’s hand moving to his pocket. The knife. He must have retrieved it during his fight with Joshua.
“Look out!” I gasp, but my voice is too weak.
With a desperate surge of energy, I lunge forward as Steven pulls the blade. Caleb is too lost in his fury to notice. I shove him hard, sending him stumbling sideways—and feel a white-hot pain slice through my abdomen as the knife meant for him finds me instead.
I stagger backward, pressing my hand to my side. Looking down, I see blood seeping between my fingers, staining my blouse with an expanding crimson bloom.
“Eve!” Caleb’s voice cuts through the haze of pain, horror replacing rage in an instant.
Steven looks almost as shocked as I am, staring at the blood on the knife in his hand. He doesn’t have time for more. Ethan tackles him from the side, and they go down in a tangle of limbs. The knife skitters away across the floor.
My knees give way, and I sink to the ground, the pain sharp and insistent. Caleb is at my side immediately, his face pale with fear.
“Eve—Oh god, Eve.” His hands hover uncertainly before pressing against my wound. “Why did you do that?”
“It’s okay,” I manage, though the pain makes me wince. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not okay,” he says, his voice breaking. “You’re bleeding.”
I try for a smile, but it comes out as a grimace. “It really hurts, but I don’t think it’s that deep.” That’s a lie—it feels like fire in my side—but the fear in his eyes is worse than any physical pain. I try to change the subject. “I’m glad you found me. I couldn’t get to the lobby—”
“When we couldn’t find you in Marketing, we noticed the security sensors picked up motion on this floor.
I should have been here sooner.” He looks furious with himself.
I start reaching for his face, to let him know everything is going to be alright, but I seize up from the gesture, pain shooting throughout my core. His distant gaze snaps back into focus.
“I’m going to get you to a hospital,” Caleb says, sliding one arm under my knees, the other behind my back.
“Don’t move her.” Ethan’s authoritative voice cuts in as he appears beside us, Steven now restrained by security guards who arrived from somewhere.
“She could have internal damage. Wait for the ambulance. I’ve already called for one,” he adds, kneeling down beside us.
He shrugs off his suit jacket and folds it, pressing it against my wound. “Keep pressure on it.”
Caleb takes over, his hands steady now despite the wild look in his eyes. “Just hang on, Eve. Help is coming.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, gritting my teeth against the pain. “Takes more than a corporate spy to get rid of me.”
He almost laughs, but it sounds more like a sob. “Don’t joke. Not now.”
“The laptop,” I remember suddenly. “Where’s the laptop?”
“Forget the laptop,” Caleb says fiercely.
“No,” I insist. “It has proof. Emails. File transfers. Everything we need to nail him.”
Ethan stands up. “I’ll get it. You stay with her.”
The pain is intense, but I’m fully aware of everything happening around me. Security guards are leading a handcuffed Steven toward the elevator. Others are rushing down the stairwell to check on Joshua. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wail, growing louder.
“You’re going to be fine,” Caleb says, one hand keeping pressure on my wound, the other holding mine tightly. “Just stay with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I repeat, squeezing his hand.
His face is so different from the contortion of fury I saw moments ago. Now it’s open, vulnerable, his eyes bright with fear and something else—something I’m not quite ready to name.
“Why did you do that?” he asks again, softer this time. “You could have been killed.”
I meet his gaze steadily. “Same reason you charged at him like a madman, I guess.”
Understanding passes between us, silent but profound.
The elevator doors open again, and paramedics rush out, wheeling a stretcher. Everything moves quickly after that. They assess my wound, start an IV, lift me onto the stretcher. Through it all, Caleb refuses to let go of my hand.
“Sir, you need to step back,” one of the paramedics says as they prepare to wheel me to the elevator.
“I’m going with her,” Caleb says, in a tone that brooks no argument.
The paramedic looks at his colleague, who shrugs. “Fine, but stay out of the way.”
As they wheel me toward the elevator, I can see Ethan watching us, the laptop secured under his arm. He gives me a small nod.
“The campaign—” I start to say.
“Will be fine,” Caleb finishes, still holding my hand as we enter the elevator. “Ethan will handle it.”
“But tomorrow—”
“Tomorrow will take care of itself,” Caleb says firmly. “Right now, you’re all that matters.”
The elevator doors close, and as we descend, I look up at Caleb’s face, still tight with worry but determined. Despite the pain, despite everything that’s happened, I feel oddly calm. We caught the mole. The campaign is safe. And Caleb is here, holding my hand like he never intends to let go.
As the ambulance doors close behind us and the siren wails to life, I hold on to that thought. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.