Page 5 of Tempting My Nemesis

“Our protocols are unbreachable. Let them ask their questions—I’ll have the answers.” My tone is abrupt, leaving no room for doubt.

She nods, flipping through her notes. “And the press conference? Any comment on the sudden stock dip?”

“They’ll get their comment when I’m ready. Prepare the press team.” I brush off the question, already calculating damage control scenarios.

As she leaves, I adjust my cuffs with practiced precision, masking the whirlwind of thoughts beneath the surface. Onthe outside, I’m every bit the commanding CEO. Inside, I’m calculating my next move against Kane.

The investors’ worries seem trivial compared to the real threats I’m dealing with. They see only the billionaire tech genius, unaware of the war raging beneath the surface. The duality of my life forces me to compartmentalize my emotions.

I hide my unease behind a smirk. Every investor call, every press conference is a reminder of the precarious balance I maintain. They don’t have a clue what’s really happening.

Stepping out of my office, I catch sight of my reflection in the glass—sharp suit, schooled expression. A mask that hides the havoc within. The hallway stretches before me, leading to another round of questions and performances.

My assistant falls into step beside me, briefing me on upcoming appointments. Her voice is a distant hum as my mind drifts back to CipherClash.

"Sir," she says tentatively, "should we reschedule your next meeting to focus on the merger negotiations? The CFO of TechFusion is expecting a call at 3 PM to discuss the final terms."

I pause, considering the implications. The merger with TechFusion is crucial, but so is tracking CipherClash's movements. My jaw tightens imperceptibly as I weigh the options.

"No," I cut in, voice firm. "Everything proceeds as planned."

As the meeting wraps up, I can almost feel the effects of my decisions rippling outward, yet I can't shake the urgency of my situation. Dismissing my assistant, I reflect on the fine line I walk. It's not just about business; my sense of self is hanging in the balance.

The office is finally quiet, the hum of the city fading into the background. I’m finally able to lean back in my chair, the leather softly squeaking as I let myself slump down. I watch theskyline stretching beyond the window, but my mind is trapped elsewhere—caught in memories I wish I could erase.

Closing my eyes, I allow the past to surface. My parents' faces flash before me—my mother's warm smile, my father's firm handshake. They believed in building something better, something lasting. Then, one bad deal, and everything they worked so hard for slipped away.

I run my hands over my face, feeling the pressure of their dreams pressing down on my heart. It's all connected. I tell myself this every day as I search for the threads that link their downfall to the present. Somewhere out there are answers—buried deep within layers of deceit and betrayal. And I’ll find them. No matter the cost.

My fists tighten around the armrests of my chair, jaw clenching at the thought of the ones responsible for destroying everything. I can’t afford to show any vulnerability. The silence in the room amplifies every creak of leather, every distant sound from outside. It’s almost suffocating.

I stare at the ceiling, letting out a slow breath. I need to keep composed.

A flash of that night hits me—the car crash that took them away. The way their legacy was torn apart by lies and corruption. And now, Kane’s reappearance only fuels my need for retribution, for betrayals old and new.

"I won’t let them win," I whisper to the empty room, a promise to the ghosts that never leave me. The physical ache in my chest is a reminder that control is a fragile veneer.

For a moment, I let myself feel it all—the pain, the anger, the longing. But only for a moment.

The office is dim, illuminated only by the glow of the screens. My encrypted terminal blinks urgently, pulling me out of my thoughts. Kane has struck again.

CipherClash just hit one of our branches. What’s the play?

The message from Silencebreakers’ secure platform appears on the screen.

I straighten, exhaustion vanishing as adrenaline kicks in. My fingers fly over the keyboard, accessing the breach. CipherClash has infiltrated a Steele Ventures subsidiary.

The taunting message from Kane flashes.

You’re slipping, Steele.

My jaw tightens as I message the SilenceBreakers.

I want a full trace. Kane’s not getting away with this. My keystrokes are aggressive, each word a promise.

Understood

Comes the reply.

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