---

Sienna knew better than to go snooping.

But when someone kept tightening the leash around your neck, at some point, you had to find out where they were pulling from.

It was late — almost 9:30 p.m. The office was quiet, fluorescent lights buzzing like a tired conscience. Most of the staff had gone home, except the janitor humming down the hall and Sienna, who sat alone in her glass-walled office, staring at her laptop like it had offended her.

She opened the file labeled **Acquisitions**, the one Adrian had specifically told her to “leave to the board.” The one she hadn’t been granted clearance for—until tonight, when Rachel “accidentally” left a flash drive on her desk with the password scribbled underneath a Post-it.

Inside, she expected dry reports. Legal jargon. Budgetary breakdowns.

Instead, she found names.

And photos.

And dates.

Her department was being gutted—**strategically**, slowly—and all the new hires? They weren’t hers. They were **his**. Plants. Puppets. Every new person reporting to her in the last three months had come from Wolfe International.

Sienna's stomach twisted. He wasn’t just supervising her.

He was setting her up.

She reached for her phone to take pictures of the files—but stopped.

**No.** She needed proof. But not this way. Not tonight.

Before she could close the folder, the reflection in the glass caught her eye.

A shadow behind her.

She turned.

**Adrian.**

Standing in the doorway, coat draped over his arm, sleeves rolled, tie loosened. Not angry. Not surprised.

Just... watching her.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, voice brittle.

“Long enough to see you break at least four confidentiality clauses.”

“I should’ve known you’d have the place bugged.”

He stepped inside slowly, like approaching a feral animal. “Bugging implies I don’t trust you.”

“You don’t.”

He tilted his head. “I do. To be predictable.”

“You’re sabotaging my department,” she snapped. “Stacking it with your people so you can justify firing me.”

He didn’t deny it.

Didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he walked to her desk and closed the laptop himself, fingers brushing hers far too deliberately.

“I warned you,” he said softly, “that this company is mine now. Everything you touch here — every decision, every signature — goes through me. You don’t get to play queen anymore.”

“I’m not playing anything.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I am.”

She exhaled sharply. “What is this? Some kind of sick power trip?”

“No.” He paused. “It’s a test.”

Sienna blinked. “A test?”

He leaned in just slightly, gaze intense. “I wanted to see how long it would take before you came looking. Before you stopped pretending you still had control.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Then why do you look so scared?”

That did it.

She stood abruptly, chair scraping. “Get out of my office, Wolfe.”

“You’re not in a position to give me orders.”

“Then let me rephrase: **Leave, before I throw something sharp.**”

Adrian’s eyes glinted — not with anger, but something far worse.

Enjoyment.

Dark. Quiet. Unsettling.

Like she’d just handed him exactly what he wanted.

“You’re fiery when cornered,” he murmured. “I like that.”

Sienna walked to the door and held it open. “Out.”

He lingered for a second longer — the air thick between them, her pulse racing and his expression unreadable — then stepped past her with a calm nod.

But just as he brushed by, he leaned close and whispered:

“Next time, try knocking before trespassing, Miss Blake. I might be less inclined to play nice.”

The door shut behind him with a soft click.

---

### Back at Home

Sienna tossed her heels aside and poured a glass of wine she couldn’t taste. She sank into the couch, laptop on her knees, trying to wrap her head around what she’d just learned — and what she hadn’t.

Adrian was playing a game she didn’t have the rules for.

And worse — he was good at it.

Too good.

What did he want? Why *her*? Why this company?

She searched his name. Again. Not the business articles — she’d read all those. Not the Forbes lists or the press conferences. She dug deeper.

But no matter how hard she looked… **Adrian Wolfe was always just out of reach.**

Like he had erased the parts of himself that mattered.

---

## Elsewhere…

Adrian sat in the back of a black SUV, eyes on his phone, watching grainy security footage of her reading the acquisition files.

She looked angry. Good.

She looked betrayed. Even better.

He smiled faintly, then slid his phone away and looked out the window.

“She’s starting to remember,” he murmured.

The driver didn’t answer.

“She hasn’t pieced it together yet,” Adrian continued, more to himself than anyone else. “But soon. The closer I get, the harder it’ll be to deny.”

His jaw tightened.

“She doesn’t know she saved my life,” he whispered. “But she will.”

---