Belise glides into the office, her heels clicking softly against the concrete floors, a shadow of polished calm in HalcyonGen’s morning chaos. Her hair is pinned in an elegant knot, a single curl loose at her jaw; her suit is blood-red, sharp at the shoulder, impossible to forget. She stops beside Laerise’s desk, leaning in with studied ease, her perfume subtle and expensive, her smile tight with empathy—a smile that never quite touches her eyes.

Laerise barely looks up, dark circles smudged beneath immaculate makeup, her lips pressed into a hard line. She’s hunched over an unread email, knuckles white against her tablet. The whole office can sense her volatility, the aftershocks of last night’s collision with Yulian radiating through her movements—a too-loud sigh, a twitch of her jaw, the way she refuses to meet anyone’s gaze. When Belise murmurs, “Rough night?” it’s less a question than a gentle dare.

Laerise swallows, flicking her hair over one shoulder, spine stiff with pride. “You heard?” Her voice is airless, clipped, pretending she’s above caring.

Belise shrugs, her eyes trailing lazily over Laerise’s throat, mapping the faint bruise at her collarbone—barely visible beneath her blouse. “People talk. I don’t listen to most of it.” Her gaze lingers for a second too long, the faintest hint of possessiveness—or something sharper—sparking behind her calm. “Some secrets are worth protecting.”

Laerise’s mask wavers, her lips parting in surprise. Their fingers brush as Belise passes a folder toward her, heat flaring between them—electric, forbidden, gone in a heartbeat. Laerise’s voice is just above a whisper. “Why are you helping me?” But Belise is already walking away, her posture poised and unreadable, the click of her heels the only answer.

At the far end of the open workspace, Yulian slouches at his desk, all clenched jaw and restless hands, hair falling into stormy eyes. He catches Laerise’s gaze for a split second—something wounded and furious flickering there. Then, without warning, he stands and strides over, his shirt rumpled, tie askew, skin pale beneath stubble. Every movement is tight with anger, but his voice is deceptively soft. “Was last night just a game to you?” The crack in his bravado shows at the edge of his mouth.

Laerise glances around, cheeks aflame as the room’s attention lands on them. She straightens, lips curling into a mocking smile, but under it her eyes betray the sting. “You think I’d risk everything for a game? Grow up, Yulian.” Her voice trembles on the last word.

He laughs, bitter and too loud, hands shoved in his pockets as if trying to hold himself together. “You tried to destroy me, and I let you. Congratulations.” His eyes are glassy, haunted. For a moment, the air between them thrums with things unsaid. Then, he turns away, collapse evident in the slope of his shoulders, retreating into sullen silence.

All the while, Sciro watches from across the room, lips quirking with secret delight, eyes sharp behind his easy smile. He passes close to Yulian, lowering his voice. “Secrets have a funny way of spreading here,” he purrs, fingers ghosting over Yulian’s sleeve just long enough to leave a chill. “Careful who you trust.”

Belise moves through the office unnoticed, her laptop tucked beneath her arm, her face a study in practiced serenity. But later, in the hush of an empty glass-walled office, she sits in darkness, the only light from her computer screen. She slides a USB drive from her pocket and loads grainy footage—the parking lot, bodies pressed together, desperation and fury and need tangled in shadow.

Her hands are steady as she labels the drive “insurance” and slips it into her bag. Her breath catches, heart racing—not from guilt, but exhilaration.

One last glance at the list she’s kept hidden, each name paired with a secret worth blood. Yulian. Laerise. Sciro. All tangled, all vulnerable. For a moment, her reflection in the glass stares back, eyes glinting with something dangerous and hungry.

Then the office phone rings, shrill and urgent, and a voice crackles over the speaker: “We know what you’re doing. We’re watching.”

Belise freezes, every muscle taut. For the first time, she wonders—has she underestimated her opponents?

To be continued…