Chapter 7 The shadows Between the spotlight

Chapter 7

The Shadows Between the Spotlight

The buzz around Juliet's refusal at the gala night lingered in headlines, but inside the marble walls of the elite, the scandal simmered. In the days that followed, the tension cooled down, like dying embers, still glowing, but less likely to burn. Juliet kept to herself, answering only the necessary calls to her, her movements cloaked in silence most times.

Yet not everyone retreated from the fire she has encountered, In a corner of the city's luxury skyline, a different story bloomed. One not forged in defiance but deception.

The Silent Storm and Sophia Williamson Sophia Williamson had always been the type of woman people underestimated, soft-spoken, impossibly elegant, with a gaze that gave nothing away. But beneath her calm exterior was a past soaked in survival, and a present filled with dangerous compromises.

She had fallen for Anderson in a moment of vulnerability. It had appeared to be real at first, like he had seen her. But Anderson had never seen anyone but himself. He was a man who always wore a mask, even in sleep. To most people, he was the sleepy senator's aide, always in the background, yawning through meetings, trailing papers, appearing harmless. But beneath that lazy drawl and sleepy smile was a sharp mind wired with manipulation.

Sophia learned that too late.

The affair was secret, tangled in shadows and guilt with her. Their meetings were scheduled like drug deals, parking garages, hotel suites under aliases, messages passed in old books. Anderson was a master of distance, treating her like a weapon rather than a woman when he touched her. And she kept returning, pulled in by a power she couldn't name.

He never talked about love. Instead, he spoke of leverage, of favors owed, of people in high places brought low by a single whispered word. It thrilled her and terrified her in equal measure.

She began to suspect she wasn't his only secret lover.

Anderson was consistent. Women. Smart ones. Lonely ones. He slipped into their lives like silk, wrapped himself in their trust so much that there will be no room for suspicions, and then gutted them from the inside. A city clerk who quit after a scandal that no one could explain was the trailer who was tracking her. A journalist who stopped writing political columns overnight due to several threats and attempts of assassination . A socialite who'd vanished to Europe.

Now, Sophia feared she was next on the list.

But fear wasn't her only companion. There was also anger. A slow, simmering rage at being played. And perhaps, even deeper, shame, for loving the illusion of a man who saw her not as a partner, but as a pawn to play with anytime he wants.

Anderson had promised her a future. Something better than gala night tables and foundation galas. However, the closer they go with each othert, the more she noticed that the flaws in his narratives and demeanor. He controlled conversations like currency. He'd get twitchy whenever she mentioned Juliet. She'd ask about Clarisse, and his voice would slow, guarded. He didn't sleep much anymore, either. The sleepiness, it turned out, was a façade. He was always calculating. Always planning.

And always watching.

Sophia followed him one night. She wore a wig, slipped out the back of a gala early, and trailed his black car to an old theater. There, she saw him exchange documents with a man in a priest's collar, documents she later learned linked to offshore accounts and shell foundations.

Anderson had more numerous lovers you can ever imagine. He had launderers, liars, and legions of accomplices.

And somehow, through all of this, he still whispered her name like a promise in the dark.

She started documenting everything, phone calls, bank receipts, hotel bookings. Not for revenge. For insurance.

Sophia knew Anderson wouldn't hesitate to silence her if it came to that. She also knew where he worked, though. Exposure was his greatest fear in life.

She wasn't powerless. Not anymore to him.

When Juliet's foundation account was frozen, Sophia wasn't surprised at all. She saw Lewis's and Anderson fingerprints all over the move, masked by Clarisse and wrapped in bureaucratic tape.

Juliet was being isolated.

And Anderson? He was tightening the circle.

But Sophia had made a decision.

She was not going to die quietly and sooner than she expects. She would outplay the masters in their mind games of confusing Juliet and making her feel she is delusional with her thoughts and reactions playing there mind games..

Juliet met Sophia at a café the next day. No security, no photographers. Two women having a secrets meetings along with secrets to share,among theirselves and coffee to start the day. "He's closing in," Sophia said quietly, eyes flickering over her shoulder, he had made some contingencies plans.

"Andeson or father ?" Juliet asked, though she already knew the answer.

Sophia gave a nod. "He's working everyone. Clarisse, Jones, even even the Williamson family. But he's not doing it alone. It is something very big"

Juliet clenched her jaw. "I won't be cornered, she said"

"Then don't wait, please act fast" Sophia said, sliding a flash drive across the table this is it" This is only a small taste of their pie out of all what they having being doing. It's has an offshore accounts. Dummy charities. And him, playing puppet master behind the scenes", meanwhile he has a lot of skeleton in the cardboard.

Juliet stared at the drive. Her heartbeat was rapid, full with excitement and rejoicing.. The war wasn't just personal anymore to them

It was systemic.

And Lewis Johnson and his cohuts and allies have just made two enemies too many to stay on top of things