Chapter 3 - THE GHOST OF THE PAST
The aftermath of the announcement was a whirlwind of flashes and questions,
reporters scrambled to get a quote as I was led away to a private suite by Adrian’s security.
The room was quiet,
a sanctuary from the madness outside,
the air smelling of expensive leather and calm.
Adrian stood by the window,
looking out at the Manhattan skyline,
his silhouette a testament to power.
“I suppose you have a lot of questions,”
he said,
turning to face me with a soft smile.
“Why?”
I asked,
my voice trembling as the adrenaline began to fade.
“Why help me like this?
We barely spoke in London.”
He walked toward me,
his movements graceful and deliberate.
“In London,
I watched you explain the math of history to a room full of bored men,”
he recalled,
his eyes growing distant.
“I saw the way your mind worked,
bridging the gap between the ancient and the digital.”
“I also saw the man standing behind you,
taking notes on everything you said.”
I felt a pang of shame as I remembered that conference,
how I had shared everything with Ethan because I trusted him.
“I didn't think he was stealing,”
I whispered,
looking at my hands.
“I thought he was proud of me.”
“He was proud of the profit he could squeeze out of you,”
Adrian said,
his voice hardening.
“I’ve been watching your career ever since,
Claire.”
“I watched your restoration company struggle while Blake Tech skyrocketed using your ideas.”
“I knew I would eventually come to New York,
and I knew I would find you.”
The realization that someone had been looking out for me was overwhelming,
a warmth spreading through my chest.
“He told me to stay home tonight,”
I said,
the memory still stinging like a fresh wound.
“He brought Vanessa to humiliate me.”
“He did you a favor,”
Adrian replied,
sitting in the chair across from me.
“He showed you his true face before you tied your life to his forever.”
“Now,
you have the resources to take back everything he took from you.”
“And more.”
I looked at the Sheikh,
the billionaire who had just changed the trajectory of my life.
“The Conglomerate,”
I said,
testing the words.
“You were serious about the investment?”
“I never joke about business,”
he said,
his eyes locking onto mine.
“And I never joke about talent.”
“Tomorrow,
we begin the process of reclaiming your IP.”
“We will dismantle his company piece by piece,
until there is nothing left but the truth.”
I felt a surge of strength,
a fire lighting in my soul that had been dormant for too long.
The ghost of the past four years was fading,
replaced by a future I could finally see.
“Thank you,
Adrian,”
I said,
using his name for the first time.
He smiled,
a look that told me we were just getting started.
“Don’t thank me yet,”
May you like
he said.
“We haven't even won the war.”
