Chapter 5: The Storm Within

The atmosphere at night was tense, with the glowing city lights faintly visible in the distance while Alexander Steele walked back and forth on the penthouse balcony. The occurrences from that night were constantly on his mind, each moment fueling his anger. He had fiercely battled to defend his reputation and empire but watched as his carefully crafted image hovered on the brink of being damaged.

Isabella was seated on the edge of the leather sofa indoors, with a pale and strained expression on her face. She held a wine glass in her shaking hands, but she hadn't drunk from it yet. The penthouse, typically a place of lavishness, now seemed like an imprisonment.

Alexander rushed back indoors, his intense stare fixing on Isabella. "Will you be honest with me now?”.

She responded her voice steady yet lacking confidence, "I've shared all my knowledge with you."

Alexander snapped and slammed his fist against the wall, warning him not to lie. The sound echoed, making her flinch. “That man, Greg knew too much. He didn’t just show up by accident.”

Isabella set the glass down and stood, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Do you think I wanted this to happen? Do you think I enjoy being humiliated in front of the entire world?”

“This isn’t about enjoyment. It’s about trust.” Alexander stepped closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over her."If you have secrets, it will negatively impact both of us."

She looked into his eyes, her gaze filled with defiance. "What about you, Alexander?"

Do you think, I am unaware of the secrets you are hiding?  Do you also have secrets in your past that you are hiding?

Alexander gritted his teeth. "This is not related to me."

"Isn't that so?" she shot back.” I believe that you prioritize your reputation over us and our welfare.”

The word 'us' hovered uncertainly, a flimsy strand teetering on the brink of snapping.

As the argument reached its peak, an unexpected knock at the door interrupted them.

Alexander frowned. It was nearly midnight, no one should have been there.

As he opened the door, he saw a courier standing nervously with a small package. “This is for Mr Steele,” the man said, handing over the package to him.

 Alexander took the package without a word and shut the door. He turned it over in his hands, inspecting the plain brown wrapping. No return address.

“What is it?” Isabella asked, her voice cautious.

"We are going to discover soon," he mentioned, tearing open the package. Inside were a single photograph and a note. The photo showed Isabella and Greg at a dimly lit café, their heads close together as though sharing a secret.

The note read: “The truth always comes out.”

Alexander’s grip on the photo tightened, his knuckles turning white. He turned the photo toward Isabella, his voice low and dangerous. “Explain this.”

Isabella's complexion turned pale. "That is not the appearance of things."

“Then tell me what it is,” Alexander demanded, his voice rising with anger.

“It was before you,” she stammered. “Greg and I… We were friends. That’s all.”

“Friends don’t send threats,” Alexander said coldly.

 Isabella exclaimed, her voice cracking. “I have no idea where that photo came from”

The air was charged with silent blame and lingering stress. Alexander experienced a conflict brewing within him. He had constructed his empire without relying on anyone, and now the individual who was meant to support him was in a developing crisis.

His phone vibrated, interrupting his train of thought. It was a message from Clara:

“Enjoy your marriage of convenience. Don’t forget, that every empire has a weak link. You just walked into the party tonight.”

Alexander was surprised to have received such an sms from someone he mostly confides with. Clara was circling like a vulture, waiting for him to stumble. He couldn’t afford to let her win, he then realized that all Clara's moves were all calculated he murmured.

At the same time, Isabella hurried to the guest bedroom, feeling her heart race. She leaned against the door, attempting to regain her breath. The picture was already awful, but the message indicated that someone was aware.

She quickly thought back to her history with Greg, memories flooding her mind. Even after their difficult separation, she was shocked that he would resort to such measures to undermine her.

Out of nowhere, she had a feeling of intense realization in her belly. Greg had a partner assisting him. Another individual was controlling the situation, and they were engaging in a risky activity.

Throughout the remainder of the night, Alexander stayed in his office, examining the

photograph and note carefully. He had maintained this empire, now, he sensed it escaping his grasp for the first time.

He needed some responses. He required information on the source of the threats and confirmation of Isabella's loyalty.

When the sun rose, Alexander concluded. He took hold of his phone and called a number that he hadn't reached out to in years.

"When the call connected, he stated, 'It's Steele.'" “I need a favour. Don’t ask any questions.”

The voice on the other end chuckled. “You must be desperate.”

“You have no idea,” Alexander replied.

Who is behind all the attacks on me?