Chapter 5

Arthur Vance strode into the Luna living room as if he owned it. He didn't wait to be invited to sit. He slapped a thick stack of documents onto the glass coffee table with a thud that echoed in the tense silence.

Silas Luna stood stiffly by the fireplace, his jaw tight with anger.

"Mr. Luna," Vance said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Mr. Hansen is, of course, very concerned about Candice's recovery. But business is business. The merger must proceed on schedule."

Candice watched from the top of the grand staircase, a ghost in her own home. She remembered this man, this moment. This was when the trap had been sprung.

Vance pulled a single sheet from the stack. "A small addendum. As a show of good faith, we'll require Luna Group to transfer its core technology patents into an escrow account controlled by Hansen Industries, effective immediately."

"That's robbery!" Silas exploded, taking a step forward. "Absolutely not."

Vance didn't flinch. He leaned back, the picture of calm confidence. "Refuse, and by morning, word will leak to the Wall Street Journal that Luna Group is on the verge of insolvency. Your stock will be worthless by noon."

It was a threat, delivered with the casual cruelty of a man who held all the cards. Silas paled, his fury turning to helpless rage.

Candice's hand tightened on the banister. This was it. The exact move that had crippled them before.

She would not let it happen again.

She descended the stairs, her steps slow and deliberate.

Vance saw her and his thin lips curved into a triumphant smirk. He thought she was coming to surrender, to smooth things over for the sake of the wedding.

She walked directly to the coffee table, her eyes fixed on the addendum. She picked it up.

"A wise decision, Miss Luna," Vance said, holding out a pen.

Candice met his gaze. A small, cold smile touched her lips.

And then, with a sharp, violent motion, she ripped the document in half.

Rrrrrip.

The sound was shockingly loud. Shredded paper fluttered onto Vance's polished shoes. The room went utterly still.

Vance's smile froze, then curdled into a snarl. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? You've violated the preliminary agreement. The penalty clause alone will bankrupt you."

Candice tossed the scraps of paper at his chest. "Get out," she said, her voice like ice. "And you tell Julius Hansen that if he wants to swallow my family's company, he'll choke on it."

Vance, for the first time, looked genuinely shocked. He took an involuntary step back before catching himself. "You'll regret this. I will personally see to it that Luna Group is a crater by the end of the week."

Candice didn't argue. She didn't threaten. She simply pulled out her phone and dialed a number from memory.

"Hi, Mark? It's Candice Luna... I'm well, thank you. I know you've been following the merger talks closely. I have an inside track for you, off the record for now. Hansen Industries is attempting a hostile takeover of my company, using financial threats and blackmail... Yes, I think your senior editor would be very interested in the exclusive on that."

Vance's face went white. He lunged for the phone, but Silas, galvanized by his daughter's courage, shoved him back.

Candice ended the call. She pointed to the door. "Now. Get out of my house."

Vance gathered his papers, his hands shaking with rage. "Julius will not let this go," he hissed. "He will bury you." He and his team practically fled the room.

Silas stared at Candice, his expression a mixture of awe and pride. "Candy..."

She turned away from him, her back rigid. Her hands were trembling violently. The bravado had taken everything she had.

In his car, speeding away from the estate, Vance's phone rang. It was Julius.

Vance, his voice dripping with venom, recounted the entire scene, emphasizing how Candice had not only torn up the agreement but had also seemed to anticipate their media strategy.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

Then, Julius Hansen's low, dangerous laugh.

"So, she's even more cunning than last time," he said. "Fine. If she wants to play, we'll play."

Another pause.

"I'm done sending messengers. I'll see her myself tomorrow. Face to face."