Boardroom and Heartbeats

The First Strike

Donovan’s office became a war room. The air was thick with tension as Lena and Donovan pored over the evidence Nolan had uncovered, their focus unwavering. It was all there—the emails, the connections, the pattern of sabotage that pointed directly to Michael Grant.

“This isn’t just about my company,” Donovan said, his voice sharp but controlled. “This is personal.”

Lena glanced up from her laptop, her brows furrowing. “Why? What does Michael have against you?”

Donovan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant.

“Michael and I started in the same place,” he said. “Same college, same industry. We even worked together on a startup in our early twenties. But while I focused on building something real, Michael was always looking for shortcuts. When I called him out on it, he... didn’t take it well.”

“What happened?” Lena asked softly.

“He stole one of my early prototypes and sold it to a competitor,” Donovan said, his voice cold. “I was young, naïve. It almost ruined me.”

Lena’s chest tightened. “And now he’s trying to do it again.”

Donovan’s gaze snapped to hers, sharp and unwavering. “He won’t succeed this time.”

A Plan in Motion

Donovan wasted no time. By the next morning, a plan was already in place.

“We need to hit Michael where it hurts,” he told Lena as they walked through the halls of Steele Innovations. “His reputation. His connections. The foundation of his entire operation.”

“And how do we do that?” Lena asked.

“Leverage,” Donovan said simply. “I’ve had my legal team start digging into his financials. He’s not as careful as he thinks he is. If we can find even one questionable deal, it’ll be enough to get the SEC involved.”

Lena nodded, her mind racing. “And the emails? Should we leak them?”

“Not yet,” Donovan said. “If we go public too soon, he’ll have time to spin the narrative. We need to control the timing, make sure he can’t recover.”

“And Laura?” Lena asked.

“She’s cooperating,” Donovan said. “She’s providing us with more details about Michael’s tactics. Her testimony will be crucial.”

Lena couldn’t help but admire Donovan’s focus. He was a man on a mission, and she was determined to keep up.

Tension Behind Closed Doors

That evening, Lena found herself alone in Donovan’s office, reviewing a stack of reports he’d asked her to summarize. The city lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow over the room.

She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t notice Donovan enter until he spoke.

“Still here?”

Lena jumped, her pen clattering to the desk. “You have a habit of sneaking up on me.”

Donovan smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re just too focused to notice.”

Lena rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Checking on you,” he said, his tone light but his gaze serious. “You’ve been working nonstop.”

“So have you,” Lena pointed out.

Donovan stepped closer, his presence commanding as always. “It’s different for me. This is my company, my fight.”

“And I’m part of that fight now,” Lena said, her voice firm.

Donovan studied her for a long moment, something unreadable in his expression. “You are,” he said finally. “But that doesn’t mean I want to see you burn out.”

Lena’s breath hitched. The way he was looking at her—intense, unguarded—made her pulse quicken.

“I can handle it,” she said softly.

Donovan’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “I don’t doubt that.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them crackled with tension, the unspoken attraction that had been simmering for weeks threatening to boil over.

Then Donovan stepped back, breaking the spell. “Get some rest, Lena. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Michael’s Counterattack

The next morning, the first strike came—not from Donovan, but from Michael.

Lena arrived at the office to find chaos. Employees whispered in hushed tones, their eyes darting nervously toward the executive floor. When she reached her desk, Amelia was waiting, her expression grim.

“What’s going on?” Lena asked.

“Michael Grant leaked something to the press,” Amelia said, handing Lena a printed copy of the day’s newspaper. “Front page.”

Lena’s stomach dropped as she read the headline:

"Steele Innovations Faces Ethical Dilemma Over Controversial AI Project"

The article was filled with speculation and half-truths, painting Donovan as a ruthless CEO willing to cut corners to stay ahead. It even hinted at internal dissent among his employees, though no names were mentioned.

“He’s trying to turn public opinion against you,” Lena said as she burst into Donovan’s office.

Donovan was already on the phone, his expression cold and furious. He held up a finger, signaling her to wait, as he finished the call.

When he hung up, he turned to her, his jaw tight. “Michael’s desperate. He’s hoping this will scare off our investors.”

“Will it work?” Lena asked.

“Not if we stay ahead of him,” Donovan said, his voice steely. “I’ve already got PR handling damage control. But we need to move fast.”

“What do you need me to do?” Lena asked.

Donovan’s gaze softened slightly, the faintest hint of gratitude in his expression. “Just keep digging. The more we have on him, the better our chances.”

Lena nodded, determination hardening her resolve. “I’m on it.”

Escalation

That evening, as Lena combed through more files, her phone buzzed with a text from Nolan.

Nolan: “We need to talk. Now.”

Lena frowned, her fingers hovering over the screen. She hesitated for a moment, then replied:

Lena: “What’s going on?”

Nolan: “Something big. I’ll send you the link. Call me after you’ve seen it.”

Seconds later, a link appeared on her screen. Lena clicked it, her heart pounding as the page loaded.

It was another article—this one from a lesser-known tech blog. But the content made her blood run cold.

"Donovan Steele: The Dark Secrets Behind Steele Innovations' Success"

The article included claims of workplace harassment, unethical business practices, and even allegations of Donovan’s involvement in blackmail—none of which sounded remotely like the man she knew.

Her phone buzzed again.

Nolan: “This isn’t going away, Lena. You need to decide whose side you’re on.”