The atmosphere at Reed International had shifted no longer taut with veiled warnings, but electrified with suspicion and dread. Conversations were clipped. Smiles never reached eyes. Bella could feel it in the way people paused when she entered a room, in the way Jason barely met her gaze unless absolutely necessary. And when he did, it was as if he were looking for a ghost a version of her from the past he didn't understand anymore.
Jason had grown quieter, more intense. She often caught glimpses of him through his office windows, hunched over documents, consulting Ryan Cole in hushed voices. Something was unraveling behind those closed doors, something Bella couldn't quite reach but whatever it was, she knew it had everything to do with her.
Jason had always been methodical, but now he was consumed. The betrayal he believed she'd orchestrated, the unexplained existence of Lila it drove him to exhume every corner of the past. And Ryan, usually calm and collected, now wore a constant furrow on his brow. He wasn't just an executive anymore. He was a man torn between two truths.
Bella had her own war to fight.
Every night, she checked on Lila three times before bed. Every noise made her flinch. The photograph, her daughter captured from afar, playing innocently in a park was now folded and hidden inside a small zippered compartment in her purse. But its presence haunted her like a heartbeat she couldn't silence.
She was being watched. Stalked, maybe. The office, once her sanctuary, now felt hostile. The walls too thin. The smiles too sharp.
One afternoon, during a lull between meetings, Bella entered Jason's office to drop off design updates. He was on a call, headset snug, voice low but authoritative. As she turned to leave, something caught her eye a small, silver flash drive half-buried beneath a stack of architectural briefs on his desk. Its presence seemed careless, almost out of place.
And yet, something told her it wasn't.
Her pulse quickened. Every rational instinct screamed to walk away, but desperation spoke louder. The photo. The threats. The lies. She needed answers.
She knocked a file off the desk — an accident she made look accidental. As she bent to retrieve it, her hand grazed the flash drive. It disappeared into her pocket as smoothly as a whisper. She left the room without a word, her heart pounding like a drum in her ears.
That night, long after Lila had fallen asleep, Bella sat in the quiet hum of her apartment. Her laptop glowed dimly, casting long shadows on the wall. She plugged in the drive.
It opened to a series of mundane files quarterly reports, client presentations, procurement orders. But at the bottom, almost hidden, was a folder labeled simply: "VX-Logs".
It was encrypted.
Bella stared at the prompt, her fingers hovering above the keyboard. She tried names, project codes, passwords she remembered Jason using. Nothing worked. She leaned back, exhaling, closing her eyes as memories flickered moments long buried: shared glances across a desk, stolen kisses in stairwells, their anniversary dinner under candlelight.
She typed in the date.
March 12th.
The folder opened.
Inside were several video files. Her stomach twisted as she read the dates. All from five years ago the week she'd left.
She clicked on the first one. The footage was grainy, security footage from the executive hallway. Jason appeared onscreen, staggering slightly, his hand bracing against the wall. His face was pale, unfocused. A moment later, Veronica emerged, her expression calculated, smile too precise.
She reached for him, steadying him and guiding him directly to his office door. Then, she turned, giving the camera a fleeting smirk before leaning in, her face brushing his. Jason was limp, clearly unaware. The screen flickered, and Bella appeared her younger self wide-eyed and heartbroken as she stumbled into the scene.
The image froze.
Bella's breath caught in her throat. Her hand rose to her lips.
She watched it again. And again. Each time, she saw the details she'd missed. Veronica subtly wiping Jason's mouth. Her positioning. The almost staged precision. Jason hadn't kissed her. He hadn't even been conscious.
He'd been drugged.
Bella's entire world tilted.
She had left him believing he'd betrayed her. Built an entire life away, alone, in exile based on a moment carefully engineered to shatter her.
It was never real. It was never his fault.
And worse… she had been played.
Bella felt her legs weaken. She slid to the floor, back against the wall, the laptop still glowing on the desk. The grief she'd carried for half a decade twisted inside her, raw and burning. But underneath it all, beneath the shame, the heartbreak there was rage. Pure, rising fury.
Veronica had done this. And Jason… Jason had been as much a victim as she was.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She reached for it with a trembling hand.
Dean.
"Bella?" His voice was tight. "I just got off the phone with Olivia. She's saying there's something going on with Jason that he's hiding assets, covering up fraud. I know she talks too much, but something about the way she said it… I think you're in danger."
Bella closed her eyes. Even now, Dean was trying to protect her.
"I found something," she said quietly. "But I can't talk about it. Not yet. Just… please, watch over Lila if I ever ask. No questions."
There was a beat of silence.
"I will," he said, no hesitation.
After the call ended, Bella rose to her feet. She stared out her window at the glowing Boston skyline. Below, the world bustled in ignorant peace, but above, where the powerful lived and played, the war had already begun.
She wasn't running anymore.
Jason needed to see the video. But more than that, she needed to confront Veronica. Not as a pawn. Not as a victim.
As a mother. As a woman betrayed.
The threads were finally unraveling.
And Bella was going to make sure they strangled the right person.