Chapter 2 The Hidden Agenda

Nadia's POV

I never thought of how rapidly things might spin out of hand. A few days into my contract marriage to Sam Thorne, I discovered I was caught in a web of lies considerably more complicated than I had thought. My search for Venessa's secrets had hardly started, and already the stakes had risen above my first projections.

Like every single evening, it began with Sam's company throwing a spectacular dinner. The occasion was a parade of riches and power, and as Sam's wife, I had to pretend to be the ideal socialite. I stayed focused on Venessa, who had been hovering at the periphery of the elite, even while I mingled with them.

My opportunity to face her arrived sooner than I had first predicted. She was standing by herself as I headed to the bathroom, her casual confidence masking the strain I knew lurked beneath.

"Nadia," she said, smiling slightly to hide her contempt. "I did not expect to see you so quickly."

Heart pounding, I attempted a courteous grin. "Venessa, I had no idea you were coming tonight."

"I'm always around," she said with a stern look. "Keeping an eye on things."

My gut urged me to believe that her presence meant more than just observation. Managing so many affairs must be somewhat of a load.

Her smile adopted a sarcastic bent. "You have no idea."

The toilet door opened before I could dig further, and Venessa's focus changed. She nodded curtly and left, sending a wave of fear over me. Whatever she was doing, it was not innocuous.

Going back to the main event, I noticed Sam deep in conversation with Jake across the room. Their conversation seemed fierce, and their looks were austere. I went gently, still whirring in my head over the meeting with Venessa.

Sam's expression stiffened when he spotted me as I got to him and Jake. "Nadia," he said succinctly. "We have to talk about something.

Jake stared at me with a gentler eye, a flutter of concern in there. Is everything fine?

I nodded, though my heart was thumping. Indeed, I just needed a little moment.

As Sam guided me to a more subdued area, his hand only touched mine. The brief but intense contact jolt of surprise sent through me. I shivered off the sensation fast, concentrating on the current work.

"We have a problem," Sam remarked, his voice quiet. "Venessa has been causing waves."

I arched my eyebrows. "What kind of waves?"

"She has discovered something," he said. "Something that might harm our company and my name."

My heart still missed a beat. "What precisely does she have?"

Sam seemed far away, as though he were struggling with his problems. "A file connected to a project I turned away years ago. Though it had fundamental problems, it was meant to be revolutionary. Should it be made public, it might destroy everything.

The weight of his comments fell mostly on my shoulders. This was perhaps a disastrous disclosure, not only about a personal grudge. "What are you going to do?" I said.

With a frustrated voice, Sam remarked, "I'm trying to find out what she knows and how she plans to use it." But she is constantly one step ahead.

My mind flew. I had to move fast if Venessa had the key to such a deadly secret. "I can help," I said, my voice calm despite the inner turbulence. "I have some knowledge of this kind of thing."

Sam looked at me, his face enigmatic. " Alright. I will quickly review the specifics."

Under the cover of needing rest, we left the celebration early and returned to the penthouse. Sam was tense; his attention was relentless. Having stayed behind, Jake had looked worriedly in my direction before we left.

Sam showed me his study in the penthouse, where he pulled a folder from a secret drawer on his desk. With his hands locked into fists, he passed it to me. "This comprises all I know about the project and what Venessa might have."

I gently opened the folder, staring across the papers. They covered a project with great risk but also a great promise to transform the tech sector. Sam had given up on it since he was mistreated; the results may be terrible.

My phone chimed with a message as I turned over the paperwork. From Jake, a basic "Are you okay?" His reply clearly expressed worry, and I felt guilty for not being able to tell him the whole truth. Still, the research took centre stage.

I closed the folder an hour later and looked it up, Sam. "I have to discover what Venessa has in mind. Should she turn this against you, we must be ready."

Sam nodded with a focused look. "Do as needed. Just tread carefully."

Feeling the weight of the circumstances descending on me, I left the study. Venessa's ideas were more serious than I had thought; hence, I had to figure out how to neutralize the threat.

The next several days were a frenzy of activity. Every free moment, I dug into Venessa's background in search of her plans. Sam stayed far off, his attitude turning colder as the weight increased. Our exchanges were short and tense, with implicit conflict.

Conversely, Jake turned into an unexpected comfort source. His compassion and care offered a little break from the increasing tension. A few evenings over coffee, we shared stories that felt oddly close in the middle of the tumult. It was during one of these talks that I discovered I was open to him in unexpected ways.

"Why do you find such great importance in this?" One night, Jake inquired, his gaze darting around me. "You're risking yourself, yet you hardly know Sam."

I paused, vulnerable and guilt-ridden at once. It goes beyond Sam as well. It's about doing the right thing. Often, the stakes are too great to overlook.

Jake's stare relaxed, and for a minute, my goal felt lighter. He said gently, "I get it. But you also need to look after yourself."

Just as I was getting ready for another day of research, Sam called urgently. "Nadia, we have a problem," he said with a strained voice. "Venessa moved here." She has spoken with the media.

Anxiety shot through me. "What are you meant to mean?"

"She's threatening to expose the material unless I meet her," Sam said. "We have to learn what she is planning before she acts."

His speech carried obvious urgency, and I realized time was running short. Feeling nervous about what Venessa could expose, I agreed to meet Sam at his office to go over our next actions.

I noticed Jake waiting outside, his demeanor disturbed, as I headed toward the office. He drew my attention and moved over, clearly expressing worry.

"Are you sure you want to work alone?" With a subdued voice, Jake asked.

Though my heart was sad, I nodded. "I have to. I have to sort through this."

Jake's eyes looked at me, and for a second, I sensed something more than simply friendliness flickering in them. "Be careful," he cautioned, his voice full of real worry.

Meeting Venessa was as tense as I had anticipated. She was waiting for me in a quiet, but slightly menacing, private conference room. Her control over Sam was evident, and the records she possessed provided evidence of the possible risks of the endeavor.

Her eyes narrowing, she continued, "You're more involved than I thought. But avoid being overly at ease. The truth always finds a way to surface."

My head was whirling with the ramifications of Venessa's warnings as I left the conference. I understood that whatever happened next would be crucial and that my decisions would decide how things turned out overall.

Sam was waiting back at the penthouse; his expression was troubled. "What did she wish for?"

I inhaled deeply to help me calm my nerves. "She's holding the cards, but we can't let her define the terms."

Sam nodded with a firm look. "We will figure out how to reverse this."

I couldn't get rid of the impression that the actual risk was only starting to materialize as I got ready for the next stage of my research. The stakes rose, and the lines separating my obligation from my emotions were blurring with every move. One thing was abundantly evident among the lies and intrigue: the road ahead was dangerous, and nothing would be as it appeared.