Chapter 5 Secrets that bleed

Camille didn't go to work the next morning.

She couldn't.

Not with the taste of fear still thick in her throat, not after the anonymous messages and the knock on her door that came from no one.

Instead, she sat curled on her apartment floor, half-dressed, staring at her phone. The messages were still there, unchanged. No follow-up. No clarification. Just those threatening words.

"You think you can expose people and walk away clean? Watch your back, little rabbit."

"This isn't just corporate games. People vanish for less."

What did they mean by vanish?

Her mind raced through every detail of the night before-the audit, Vivian's warning, the way Christian had stared at her like he knew she was already in too deep.

She needed answers.

Or she needed to disappear.

But her choice was made for her by 9:14 a.m. when her phone buzzed again-this time from Melanie.

MELANIE:

Christian's asking for you. And he's pissed. You okay?

MELANIE (again):

You've got fifteen minutes before he sends security to drag you in.

Camille stared at the screen, then stood.

Time to face the devil she danced with.

Ford International – 10:06 AM

The elevator ride to the top floor felt colder than usual.

As she stepped off, the silence of the 45th floor greeted her like a courtroom. Her heels echoed too loudly as she walked toward Christian's office.

She barely touched the door when it opened inward.

He was already standing.

Hands in his pockets. Tension in every inch of his jawline.

"Close the door," he said without looking at her.

Camille obeyed, heart ticking like a bomb.

Christian turned. His eyes were darker today. Glacial. The calm before something violent.

"You don't come to work. You ignore company policy.

And when I ask for you, I get excuses." He took a step forward. "Explain."

She didn't cower.

"I was threatened," she said plainly. "Anonymous texts. Someone knocked on my door. I thought it was serious enough to stay home."

That made him pause.

And just like that, the shift.

His entire frame tightened. Not with anger-but something far more dangerous.

"Show me."

She handed him her phone. He read both texts.

His face was unreadable... but his knuckles whitened around the phone.

"You told anyone else?" he asked.

"No."

"You shouldn't have come in."

"You gave me no choice."

Christian exhaled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Delete the messages. Then change your number."

"No," she said firmly. "Why are people threatening me in the first place? Because of that audit? Because I found something you didn't want me to find?"

He turned on her sharply. "What you found is exactly what I wanted you to find."

That stopped her.

"What?"

He stepped closer.

"You think I didn't already know? That I didn't plant it where you could see it? Camille, this company has enemies. So do I. You? You were a test. And you passed."

She stared at him, heart pounding.

"Wait... you used me?"

"I observed you. I let you see just enough."

"Then what's real?"

He didn't answer right away.

Instead, he walked to his desk, pulled open a drawer, and tossed a slim brown envelope onto the glass surface.

It slid toward her like a trap.

"What's this?"

"Something I didn't plan on giving you until next month. But since the game changed..." He gestured. "Open it."

She hesitated, then slowly peeled the flap open.

Inside was a thin packet of photos... and a file. Black and white. Dated five years ago.

Camille's eyes widened.

The top photo was of Christian Ford-younger, with a woman clinging to his arm. A red dress. Blonde hair. Her eyes... lifeless.

She flipped to the next one.

Same woman. Same night. Only now she was alone in a stairwell.

Blood on her heel.

A headline followed:

MYSTERY WOMAN FOUND DEAD AFTER CHARITY BALL - SUICIDE OR MURDER?

Below it, Christian's name.

Linked.

Camille's hands trembled.

"What is this?"

"Her name was Esme Laurent," Christian said quietly. "She was my fiancée before Vivian. The one no one talks about."

"She's dead."

"Yes."

"And you were investigated?"

"Yes."

"Were you guilty?"

Silence.

Then-

"I didn't push her."

That wasn't a no.

Camille's voice was barely a whisper. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because you need to understand something." He stepped around the desk, closing the space between them. "This company? This empire? It's built on secrets. Blood. Leverage. That world outside that door-" he pointed toward the city skyline-"they don't play fair. And now? You're in it."

He was inches away now. She could feel the static between them.

"You think I used you? Maybe I did. But now I need you."

"For what?"

He looked at her like she was a match, and he was ready to burn.

"To be loyal. To be smarter than everyone else. And to survive."

Her throat was dry. "I'm not some pawn."

"Good. Because pawns die early."

A beat of silence stretched long between them. Something buzzed in the air-part fury, part fire. She wanted to scream. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to kiss him.

And then-

The door burst open.

Nathan stood there.

"Sir," he said urgently, ignoring the way Christian was this close to Camille. "It's done. They leaked the files.

Singapore's already trending on financial channels."

Christian didn't blink. "How bad?"

"They're calling it corporate embezzlement."

Christian swore under his breath.

He turned to Camille.

"Go home. Now."

"No."

He stared at her.

"I said go."

"I'm already part of this. You said so yourself. So stop pushing me out of the fire you dragged me into."

For a second, something passed across his eyes. Something that looked like regret. Or guilt. Or want.

He turned back to Nathan. "Call the crisis PR team.

Activate blackout protocol. I want phones wiped and terminals frozen."

Then to Camille: "Stay close. From this moment on... you're not just my assistant anymore."

"What am I?"

He looked her dead in the eyes.

"You're my alibi."