Chapter 3

I knew this was only the opening move.

Given Ethan's vindictive nature, he would strike back at me soon enough.

Sure enough, three days later, an independent tech startup I had personally funded was hit with a massive public relations crisis.

Multiple media outlets released identical reports claiming that our flagship software contained a fatal security vulnerability. Overnight, the company's stock crashed, teetering on the edge of a trading suspension.

This was Ethan's handiwork.

He knew me inside out. He knew this venture was the very first enterprise I built after stepping away from the Moore family estate; it held immense personal significance to me.

He wanted to use this leverage to force my surrender, to show me that without him, I was nothing.

My assistant team's phones were ringing off the hook, everyone scrambling in pure panic.

Sitting behind my desk, I methodically compiled and analyzed every smear article and negative thread circulating online.

Right then, an unfamiliar number flashed on my screen.

I answered, and Julian's cool, steady voice came through the receiver:

"Trouble?"

"Just a minor headache," I replied.

"Ethan's tactics are as dirty and pathetic as ever," he noted, a trace of dry contempt in his tone. "Need a hand?"

"You're willing to step in, Director Vance?"

"Our partnership agreement is crystal clear. If you go under, I lose a fortune," he paused, adding casually, "Besides, I despise his smug face."

A smile touched my lips.

"Then I'll leave it in your capable hands, Director Vance."

"Come to my office. Bring every piece of raw data you have."

Laptop in hand, I pushed open the door to the top-floor office of the R&D department.

Julian stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the glittering city lights below.

Hearing the door, he turned around. "Let's get to work."

That night, the two of us stayed alone in the deserted office. I mapped out the coordination paths, timestamps, and core arguments used by the paid smear campaign, while Julian's fingers flew across his keyboard, running raw data through a proprietary sentiment-tracking algorithm his team had just built.

His long fingers tapped away so fast they blurred against the keys.

The cool blue light of the monitors cast sharp shadows across his focused profile, lending him a striking, magnetic intensity.

For a second, I lost myself in the sight.

In my past life, my vision had been entirely clouded by Ethan. I had never realized that the Vance family harbored a man like this.

At four in the morning, Julian's hands stopped moving.

"Done."

He sent a comprehensive analytical dossier directly to my inbox.

The report laid out the entire crisis with absolute precision—the coordinated bot networks, the falsified user reviews, and the shadowy PR firm hired directly by Ethan.

The chain of evidence was airtight.

At daybreak, I had my communications team blast the dossier across all platforms and slapped Ethan's hired PR firm with a formal cease-and-desist and lawsuit.

Public opinion flipped in an instant.

Not only was my company cleared of all suspicion, but Ethan was also publicly reprimanded by the Vance Corporation board for engaging in illegal, anti-competitive practices.

It was our first joint battle, and we won it cleanly.

When I stepped out of Julian's office, dawn was just breaking across the skyline.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, looking thoroughly exhausted.

I softened my footsteps and gently pulled the door shut behind me.

Inside the office, Julian slowly opened his eyes. His gaze fell upon the worn, scratched lighter I had absentmindedly left near the corner of his desk.

His memories drifted back to a stormy night years ago.

He had been driving when he spotted a girl in a high school uniform cornered by a group of thugs in an alley, soaking wet and trembling with fear.

He pulled over and chased the thugs off.

The girl had been terrified, crouching on the pavement with her arms wrapped around her knees, too afraid to even lift her head.

He had wanted to hand her a tissue, but after digging through his pockets, he only found a lighter. Hesitating for a second, he chose to turn and walk away instead.

In his haste, the lighter slipped from his coat pocket, falling silently into a puddle.

Moments later, his flashy cousin Ethan roared up in a sports car, showering the girl with dramatic concern and claiming full credit for the rescue.

From that night on, that girl—Stella Moore—became Ethan Vance's most devoted shadow.