The day started like any other.
Until Samantha's assistant rushed in, face pale, clutching a tablet.
"You need to see this."
It was an email—forwarded to clients.
From her.
Except... she never sent it.
The contents? Full of careless, unprofessional language. Dozens of typos. A passive-aggressive tone.
Enough to rattle the firm's image.
Enough to threaten a million-peso contract.
Samantha's heart sank.
Ryan was in the hallway in seconds. "We're handling this," he said before she could speak. "IT's checking the logs. Legal's reviewing the client thread. We'll find out who spoofed your address."
But Samantha's jaw was tight.
Because she knew.
This wasn't random.
Someone wanted her out.
By late afternoon, IT confirmed it: the email was fabricated. Sent through a dummy account that mirrored her internal one. Someone inside the company had access.
And whoever it was had done their homework.
Ryan paced in her office, angry. "They targeted your image. They went for the clients you closed."
"Because I'm the threat," Sam said quietly. "Not just to competitors. But to someone here. Someone who thinks I climbed too far."
He stopped pacing.
"Samantha—this is war. And I'm not letting you fight it alone."
Across the city...
Henry met Trina in a small café. She looked pale. Tense. Unusually quiet.
"I had a check-up," she said, sliding a piece of paper across the table. "It's real. I'm eight weeks."
Henry stared at it. The proof. The heartbeat. The words fetal pole visible and estimated due date.
He didn't speak.
"You don't have to love me," Trina said. "But I'm not doing this alone."
He looked away.
"I can't be a father again. I don't know how."
She gripped the table.
"Then learn."
Later that night, Henry sat outside his apartment, chain-smoking.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcTyY0bbneK
He thought about Samantha—how she did it alone, with no hand to hold and no safety net.
And how he made sure she suffered.
Now here he was, back at square one. But this time?
There was no Samantha to clean up the mess.
Only the weight of what he'd broken, and what he might still break.
Back at the firm...
Samantha stood alone in the elevator, watching the floor numbers tick down.
She wasn't afraid.
She was ready.
Let them try to sabotage her.
Let them whisper, and fake emails, and stir rumors.
She survived worse.
And this time?
She wasn't alone.
28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp9hBoREu6l
