Chapter 5 Cracks in the Light

The video ended, and silence swelled in its wake.

Ivy stood frozen, staring at the screen. Her image, locked in a kiss with Gabriel beneath Capri's stars, looped again and again in her mind. Not because she was ashamed of the moment-but because someone had used it against them.

Weaponized intimacy.

She turned away from the laptop, arms folding around herself. "They were watching us the whole time."

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, his expression stone. "Not just watching. Recording. Planning."

"Do you know how humiliating this is?" Her voice cracked. "Not just to be spied on, but to be used-again."

His jaw flexed. "This isn't about you."

Her head snapped toward him. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, it's not just about you. They're targeting me, Ivy. KnightTech is on the brink of an acquisition worth billions. If this goes public, it won't just be my name at stake-it'll destabilize half a dozen companies."

"Oh," she said, arms tightening around her ribs. "So this is a PR problem. Not a betrayal. Good to know."

"Ivy," he said, voice low. "That's not what I meant."

"Isn't it?"

She turned from him, pacing toward the window as the sea thundered against the cliffs. Her heartbeat felt like a drum against her ribs.

"I trusted you," she said. "And now the entire world might see me half-naked on a beach, framed like some forbidden mistress caught on camera."

"No one will see that video," Gabriel said through clenched teeth. "I'll bury it before it ever hits a screen."

"With money? Threats? Hackers?"

"If I have to."

"That's the difference between us," she said, voice sharper now. "You fight with power. I fight with survival."

Gabriel looked at her then-really looked at her. And for a moment, the fury faded from his face.

"Ivy, I didn't ask for this either. I didn't plan on wanting you."

"Wanting me? Or needing me to clean up your mess?"

He moved closer. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Make me the enemy. I'm not him."

Her breath hitched. "Who?"

"Julian. Your past. The people who burned you."

She looked away. "Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference."

That hit him like a slap. He stepped back, the lines around his mouth tightening. "Is that what you really think of me?"

"No," she said softly, tears brimming. "But I don't know what to think right now. I'm tired, Gabriel. Tired of being a liability. Tired of being a weakness someone else uses for leverage."

"You're not a weakness," he said.

"Then why am I always the one being targeted?"

He had no answer.

She crossed her arms, trying to hold herself together. "We shouldn't have gone to Capri. We shouldn't have let it get this far."

"That's not how I see it."

"Well, maybe that's the problem."

Gabriel exhaled sharply, then turned toward the door. "I need air."

"Then go."

And just like that, he left the room.

Ivy didn't cry.

She couldn't afford to-not now.

Instead, she opened her laptop and began doing what she did best: digging.

She traced back through Gabriel's files, the flagged emails, the security logs. If someone had used her name, her credentials, her history to get inside KnightTech, she would find them.

Because if Gabriel wouldn't trust her with the whole picture, she'd uncover it herself.

An hour passed.

The fireplace burned low. Her tea had gone cold. But Ivy found something-something buried deep in the company's database.

A coded message.

Encrypted under a set of financial reports was a name she hadn't seen in over a year:

Miriam Grace.

Her former assistant at Valor Strategies.

The only person with access to Ivy's secure files... the only one who hadn't returned her calls after the scandal broke.

A single message sat buried inside the metadata of an old KnightTech proposal:

> "Confirmed handoff. Ivy was compromised. Payment received."

Ivy stared at the screen, the words swimming. Her throat closed up.

Miriam.

It had been her all along.

The betrayal wasn't random. It wasn't corporate warfare.

It had been personal.

When Gabriel returned, he found Ivy still in the library, her face pale, her hands shaking slightly.

He hesitated at the threshold. "Ivy-"

She held up a hand. "Wait. Just... look at this."

He walked over, eyes scanning the screen. His expression darkened with each line.

"Miriam Grace," he muttered. "She still works for Roth."

"No," Ivy said, voice flat. "She is Roth now. At least, the operational side. He hides behind her. She's been funneling insider information from both our firms for over a year."

Gabriel leaned back. "We can use this. Leak it. Bring her down."

Ivy stood. "No."

He blinked. "What?"

"This isn't your war. It's mine."

"Ivy-"

"She ruined me. Lied to me. Used me like a pawn. I need to be the one to end it."

Gabriel stepped forward. "You're not going near her alone."

"I won't be alone. But I won't be a passenger in this either. Not anymore."

He hesitated. Then: "Okay."

That single word stunned her more than any argument.

"I trust you," he said quietly. "Even when you don't trust me."

Her throat thickened.

"And about earlier..." he added, reaching for her hand. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I don't just want you because of what you can do for me," he continued. "I want you because of who you are. Even when you're furious. Especially when you're furious."

That earned a breath of laughter from her.

"I shouldn't have snapped," she admitted. "But it felt like the past was repeating itself. And I couldn't breathe."

"I get it."

"Do you?"

He nodded. "I spent five years blaming myself for my sister's death."

Ivy stilled. "You never told me about her."

Gabriel sat down, his expression turning distant.

"Her name was Celeste. She was two years younger than me. Got into trouble a lot-parties, pills, bad boyfriends. I tried to help. Paid for rehab. Got her an apartment. But she OD'd six months after she turned twenty-two."

"I'm so sorry," Ivy whispered.

He looked up. "She texted me the night she died. I was in a meeting. I ignored it."

Silence fell between them like a curtain.

"I blamed myself for a long time," he said. "Still do, some days. But I've learned that guilt is a terrible lens to view the world through. It distorts everything."

Ivy reached for his hand. "You're not the only one who carries guilt."

"Then maybe we can carry it together."

She looked at him, truly looked at him-and saw not the billionaire, not the stoic CEO, but the man who had fought battles in silence for years. Just like her.

"I don't want to run anymore," she whispered.

"Then stay."

He pulled her into a soft embrace, and for the first time in days, she let herself sink into him-not as a shield, but as something real.

Later that night, she climbed into his bed not out of passion, but out of need. They didn't make love. They just held each other, breath to breath, heartbeat to heartbeat.

And it was enough.

The next morning, Ivy woke before dawn.

She slid quietly out of bed, grabbed her bag, and stepped onto the balcony. The wind carried the salty scent of the sea as she stared out into the pale blue horizon.

She opened her phone and pulled up the message she'd drafted the night before.

> To: Miriam Grace

Subject: I Know

I know everything. You betrayed me. You framed me. And you sold my trust for a paycheck.

I'm not scared of you anymore.

We're not the same women we used to be.

Meet me in New York. One week. Face to face. Or I go public.

Ivy

She hit Send.

Then she turned around-and found Gabriel watching her from the doorway, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.

"I had to," she said softly.

"I know."

"Will you come with me?"

"Always."