Chapter 3 THE TRUTH HURTS

Adrian Cross seldom went home. The sprawling estate located just outside the city felt less like a sanctuary and more of a mausoleum - cold, empty and full of memories he preferred to ignore. But tonight, as he entered through the grand foyer, the expensive echo of his Italian shoes on marble reminded him of why he detested avoiding this place.

"Adrian," his father's voice boomed from the study even before he had gotten the chance to take off his coat.

Adrian's jaw tightened. His father, Lawrence Cross, was not someone who asked or called for someone: he demanded. The once-mighty titan of industry, now retired but still clubbing influence around, had always viewed Adrian more as a legacy project than a son.

Adrian walked into the study, where Lawrence sat behind an oak desk that looked as if it had been fashioned from the very wood of the tree it had sprung from, a picture of power octogenarian. His sharp blue eyes, so much like Adrian's, locked onto him with an expression equal parts annoyance and amusement.

"What is it, Father?" Adrian asked, the tone clipped.

Lawrence slid a tablet across the desk. "Care to explain this?"

Adrian picked it up, eyes furrowing as he scanned the screen. It was a blog post from some independent site he vaguely recognized. The bold headline screamed: "CrossTech's Dirty Little Secret: The Data Scandal They Don't Want You to Know About."

And underneath, in boldly printed letters, was the byline: Emma Clarke.

Adrian read the piece in silence. Speculative, packed with half-truths, but it could rouse public mistrust. In tone, it was sharp, direct, and laced in determination. He could practically hear Emma's voice in the words.

"Nothing I can't handle," Adrian said before placing the tablet down.

Lawrence scoffed. "It's not about bearing, Adrian. It's about perception. Do you have any idea what this might do to our reputation? You may think you're above it all, but just one misstep, and everything you've worked for could come crumbling down. Fix this."

Adrian gritted his teeth. "I will."

"Good," Lawrence said, leaning back into his seat. "And during this whole mess thing, maybe try to utilize some of the charm you inherited from your mother into this fix-it project. God knows you didn't get it from me."

Adrian did not reply. He turned on his heel and left, his father's presence weighing on him like a lead chain.

Emma's day has started like any of the day's normal mornings - rushed and chaotic. She managed to spill coffee on her blouse during the morning scramble of trying to shove her laptop into her bag; the subway ride to work was a nightmare where she stood the entire distance, rough and irritable at the end of it from having to endure so many people.

By the time she reached the office, all that remained was her consideration of the prospect of returning to work on the CrossTech story. She had leads to follow, angles to explore. That blog post was her first strike, but she knew there was more to uncover.

Emma comes off the elevator: the strange sight of her coworkers whispering in clusters, eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and dread.

"What's happening?" she asked Lauren, the receptionist, who looked like she had just seen a murder happen.

"Adrian Cross was here," Lauren whispered, her voice tinged with reverence.

Emma, frozen. "What?"

"He barged into Mr. Hanley's office like twenty minutes ago," Lauren said, carefully glancing toward the closed door of the editor-in-chief. "And when I say stormed, I mean, he was looking ready to tear the place apart."

Emma felt her stomach churn. This couldn't be good.

Just as she was getting ready to ask some more questions, the door opened into Mr. Hanley's office, and there appeared Adrian Cross towering and formidable, his expression a mask of barely restrained fury.

Emma's breath caught. For a brief moment, their eyes met; then something flickered in his gaze, anger even more, and then he walked past her without one word and left the office in stunned silence.

"Clarke!" Mr. Hanley's voice broke her dazed state.

Emma stepped into the editor's office, where he paced like a man preparing for meltdown.

"Care to explain why one of the most powerful men in this city just charged in here threatening legal action?" snapped Hanley, waving about a printout of her blog post in the air.

Emma blinked. "He what?"

"He wants the story dropped. Completely," Hanley said, red-faced. "And he made it very clear that if we don't, he'll bury this paper under so many lawsuits that we won't see daylight for years."

Emma's chest tightened. "But he can't do that. The story's real."

"Real or not, we ain't taking that risk," Hanley slammed the paper down on his desk. "As of now, you're off the CrossTech case. Understood?"

Emma opened her mouth to rebut, but the look in Hanley's eyes told her the argument was a lost cause. Defeated, she left his office with a racing mind.

She spotted Adrian near the elevators, his back turned to her while he waited for the doors to open. Without thinking, she rushed toward him.

"Hey!" she called, her voice sharper than she intended.

Adrian turned cool, unreadable.

"What the hell was that?" Emma demanded as she stopped a few feet away from him.

"I told your superior to drop the subject," Adrian stated flatly.

"Why should I? If you're innocent, why go to such extremes to shut me down?"

The ghost of a smile, almost mockingly, twitched at the corners of Adrian's lips. "Because I don't have the luxury of letting people like you wield half-truths against me."

Emma's fists balled at her sides "You can't just silence people because you don't like what they're saying."

He stepped closer, under his towering presence her feeling but not without protest. "I didn't silence you, Ms. Clarke. I made it clear that the claims you are making have no basis."

"You would just need to open your office there if you have nothing to hide," Emma said, glaring at him, her heart racing. "Then why not allow me to investigate?"

Adrian pulled a sleek black business card from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Come to my office tomorrow," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "Uh, you want the truth? Fine. I'll give it to you."

Before she could respond, he stepped into the elevator when the doors opened and then closed behind him, leaving Emma staring at her reflection in the polished metal.

The card in her hand looked down, and the embossed CrossTech logo sparkled in light.

Even during that night while she rode a subway back to her apartment, Adrian's words spiraled through her thoughts. Something bothered him-that something could push her further into fears that screamed for her to be careful.

She was thinking of her father, who was still struggling to keep the life he had built, and of Sophia, who deserved a future not clouds of debt hanging over her.

By the time Emma got to her apartment, she resolved.

She would face Adrian Cross on his turf tomorrow and though the truth he would offer was ready, she would meet it.