Chapter 3

Did he really think handing over control of this project would be enough to buy my silence?

"It seems you're quite sincere," I said, keeping my voice light.

Zachary's face lit up.

He thought I was going to let him off the hook. He lowered his head quickly. "Yes, Nina. I genuinely understand where I went wrong. This document is proof of my commitment."

My parents exchanged satisfied looks beside us.

They were taken in completely — fooled by the act Zachary was putting on.

"All right. Then I'll give you another chance."

I spoke slowly.

Zachary was overjoyed. Both sets of parents exhaled in relief.

What none of them knew was that those words weren't meant only for Zachary.

They were meant for all of them.

"Good, good — let's put the past behind us. Here's to a successful partnership going forward!"

My father raised his glass.

Everyone smiled. The atmosphere warmed up again.

The dinner ended, and Zachary walked me to the door.

"Let me drive you home, Nina."

He said it as he reached out toward me.

I stepped to the side.

Zachary's hand froze in mid-air, his expression stiffening.

"Nina, what is that supposed to mean? I fired Lily. I handed over the project. What more do you want?"

A flash of frustration crossed his face.

But I just looked at him calmly — the way you'd look at something you'd found in a trash can.

"Zachary, something that's been dirtied doesn't become clean just because you rinse it off. Especially when it comes to a person's character."

Zachary stared at me like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, his jaw twitching.

I didn't bother addressing it. I simply told him, "Don't forget — this is the first chance I've given you. Don't waste it."

Then I turned and walked away.

Zachary stood where he was.

The expression on his face had gone dark.

Don't worry. This is only the beginning.

Holding the preliminary review authority meant that the Sinclair Group was obligated to follow my lead on this project, no questions asked.

And the first thing I did with that authority was put a hold on one of Zachary's critical payments.

The next morning.

Zachary called me, his voice tight with urgency. "Nina, why was the startup funding returned? This is going to throw off the entire schedule!"

I put him on speaker and took my time looking at the photos that had just been printed out on my desk.

"The receiving party had compliance issues. To minimize risk, I had our finance team run a new review."

My tone was perfectly even.

"What? That vendor has been working with us for years —"

"Didn't you say you were leaving this to me?"

One sentence, and Zachary went quiet.

After a long pause, he said, stiffly, "But — but —"

"No buts. Process is process."

I hung up.

I looked at the photos on the desk and let out a cold laugh.

My private investigator had just sent these over. The Lily who was supposedly terminated was currently living in that upscale apartment.

Her wrist — with that watch — was captured clearly in the shot.

And Zachary's car was parked right outside the building.

Running the project dry on one hand, keeping his little bird in a gilded cage on the other.

Zachary. You've got some nerve.

Over the following week, I turned a blind eye to everything — the business dealings, and Zachary's secret meetings with Lily.

When Zachary played the role of the devoted fiancé, I played along with just enough indifference to keep him guessing.

And then Friday night arrived.