Chapter 3 (Brighten my day)

The night dragged on, my eyes a little too dry, my coffee a little too stale. The phrase Operation Cloverleaf haunted me, pulsing like a beacon behind every document I tried to decipher. But it was no use-the file remained stubbornly encrypted. The rest of the drive was pure chaos. Misnamed folders, duplicated logs, half-deleted archives. Like someone had tried to hide a crime in a junkyard.

My phone rang, cutting through the silence like a blade.

Unknown Caller.

I hesitated, then answered. "Hello?"

"Paisley. It's Stephan."

Of course.

"Should I be flattered or concerned that you're calling me at this hour?"

He chuckled. "I had to call you know. But hey, I don't mean no harm."

I said nothing.

"I want you to come to Laveldi tomorrow," he continued. "Observe. Ask questions. Sit in on whatever meetings you want. If you're going to investigate us, you should see the beast up close."

I leaned back, eyeing the flash drive like it owed me answers. "Fine. But I'm not here to make friends."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Alright then. See you tomorrow."

I hang up and threw the phone on the table.

The Laveldi Tower was a monument to everything polished and poisonous. Floor-to-ceiling glass, marble floors that echoed with every step, and employees who looked like they'd rather swallow a knife than smile.

The moment I stepped in, the air changed. Cold stares. Whispers. Eyes flicking from my face to my badge like they were scanning for weakness.

I walked like I owned the place.

Stephan met me in the lobby, dressed in charcoal grey, an easy smile on his lips that didn't reach his eyes. "You made it."

"I said I would."

"Come on," he said. "I'll take you to the executive floor. We've got a board meeting in a few minutes."

As we stepped into the elevator, I caught sight of her.

Delilah Lautner.

Tall. Ice-blonde. Sea-green eyes. Elegance wrapped in arrogance. She approached like a queen surveying her domain-and I, apparently, was a stain on her rug.

"Stephan," she said smoothly, her voice laced with warning. "Interesting... guest."

I didn't flinch. "Paisley Jenkins."

Her eyes narrowed like the name offended her ears.

"You've brought a Jenkins to Laveldi?" she asked Stephan, her tone almost amused. "Have you forgotten who our enemies are?"

Stephan smiled... too quickly. "She's just visiting. You remember the Jenkins family-Mom and Dad were friends with them once, remember? Back when we were kids."

Delilah's lips curled. "Back when we were kids. Before our father kicked him out because he was trying to drag ours through the mud. Before he embarrassed this family. Before he-"

"Delilah," Stephan cut in, his tone light but firm, "she's not here for that. I'm just catching up with her. It's not a big deal."

My patience run thin and I almost wanted to slap some sense to this bitch. How dare she bad-mouth my father without any shame? After everything they did? She has the guts to blurt out nonsense?

"How dare you?" I began, taking a step forward, but Stephan quickly hold my wrist.

Stephan leaned in and whispered, "Don't ruin this. Not here." He looked up at her. "Delilah that's enough already. I told you I was the one that invited her."

Delilah's gaze slid back to me, sharp and assessing. "Hmph. I don't have time for this." She looked at Stephan like she was the only adult in the room. "Boardroom. Ten minutes."

Then she swept past, heels clacking like gunshots.

I didn't move. My pulse thundered beneath my skin. I could've torn into her. I wanted to. But unfortunately, Stephan saved her.

When she was gone, he straightened, exhaled. "I'm sorry about that. Come with me."

"To the boardroom?" I blinked. "Why?"

"I want you to watch," he said. "Observe the board. See what you can read off them. Your eye for detail could help."

"And what if they ask who I am?"

"I'll lie," he said simply. "I'm good at it."

I let out a sigh and followed him without argument.

The boardroom was glass-walled and filled with sharp suits and sharper smiles. Men and women who looked like they played with millions before breakfast. The scent of money and pride clung to the air like expensive cologne.

Delilah sat at the head of the table, of course. Though Stephan took the chair beside her, it was obvious who commanded the room.

"Let's begin," Delilah said, folding her hands. "And let's not waste time."

Stephan cleared his throat. "I'd like to propose a change in our export distribution process-our lead times overseas are suffering, and-"

"And your solution is?" Delilah cut in without looking at him.

"I've been working with a new logistics partner-"

"You have, or we have?" she asked coldly.

Stephan faltered. "I have. But I plan to bring them in once I've evaluated-"

She smiled, tight and fake. "Let's not play games, little brother. This is Laveldi, not a school project."

Snickers echoed around the table.

Stephan bit back whatever he wanted to say. I watched his knuckles whiten.

They didn't respect him. That much was clear.

I stayed quiet. Observing. The man three seats to Delilah's left kept checking his watch. The woman across from Stephan scribbled furiously but never looked up. Another man kept his eyes trained on Delilah like she was gospel.

Stephan had no allies here.

And Delilah knew it.

After the meeting, he was quiet as he led me through the halls-past framed photos of vineyards, aging cellars, and founding documents.

"Thoughts?" he asked finally.

"On what?"

"The board. My sister. This mess."

I shrugged. "Your sister is charming. If you're into Machiavellian snow queens."

He chuckled.

I didn't.

"She controls the board," I said. "Not you."

He sighed. "I know."

"And they don't trust you."

Another sigh. "I know."

We walked past the research wing. I slowed to glance at a glass display of Laveldi's early wine labels. His family legacy, immortalized in elegant script.

"You're trying to turn the ship around," I said, "but you're still not holding the wheel."

He turned to me. "Do you think I can?"

I looked at him, really looked. For a moment, the cocky teenager vanished, and I saw a man drowning in responsibility he wasn't ready for.

"Maybe," I said.

He smiled faintly. "That's the nicest thing you've said to me all week."

"Don't get used to it."

He laughed. "You know, when we were kids, I remember you being nicer."

"When we were kids, you hadn't helped destroy my family."

His smile died.

Good.

I turned away. "Thanks for the tour."

"Paisley-"

"I've got what I need. For now."

He didn't try to stop me as I walked away, heels echoing through the corridor like a warning shot.