Max
She hadn't slept.
The skyline pulsed in soft gray and gold, but her eyes hadn't left the screen in hours.
Three days since the leak. Three days of silence from Aurelia. Three days of Max telling herself she should be angry, should be indignant, should be focusing on damage control rather than the ache beneath her ribs.
Instead, she'd been hunting.
At 3:17AM, she'd made calls. Quiet ones. To people who owed her favors and knew better than to ask questions. People with skills in gray areas of legality but who produced results.
By 6AM, her cybersecurity lead had sent her a name.
Mia Halberd.
Aurelia's new assistant. Hired four weeks ago. Young. Smart. Polished. And—evidently—planted.
The data trail was neat. Clean enough for a beginner to think they'd hidden it well, but Max spotted fractures. Mia had downloaded the pitch deck three nights ago. Encrypted it. Forwarded it from a ghost address to a third-party PR "source" that had previously tanked a rival brand. And she'd been paid.
Enough to burn Kaiser from the inside.
Max stared at the final report, the evidence meticulous and damning.
She could send it to the fashion blogs. Leak it back. Ruin Aurelia's credibility for having a mole. Clear her own name in flashing lights. The Sterling way—calculated, public, designed for maximum advantage.
The kind of move her father would expect. The board would approve. The industry would understand.
But she didn't.
Instead, she sent it quietly—to Vivien Hart.
Subject: Mia Halberd. I'd act quickly.
No explanation. No signature. No request for acknowledgment.
She leaned back and pressed her fingers to her temples, the headache from a sleepless night making itself known. The morning light caught on her laptop, on an untouched coffee cup, on the emptiness of a penthouse that felt hostile in its silence.
If Aurelia wanted to believe she was the villain... fine.
But she wasn't going to watch her get torn apart from within.
Not when it mattered.
Not when she still—
No.
She wouldn't think it. She couldn't. Because naming it would make it real. Would make it something she'd have to acknowledge, would have to either pursue or walk away from.
And right now, with Aurelia's silence like a wall between them, with doubt in place of trust, Max couldn't bear to put a name to the feeling that had driven her to spend the night hunting for truth instead of accepting the accusation.
The feeling that had made Aurelia's doubt cut deeper than any professional betrayal ever could.
The feeling that had her sending evidence anonymously rather than using it for advantage.
The feeling that made her care more about protecting Aurelia than defending herself.
Her phone rang—her father. Again. The third call since yesterday's board meeting, where Max had refused to discuss the leak in personal terms, had maintained that Sterling had no involvement, had redirected focus to quarterly projections with precision that left no room for speculation.
She let it go to voicemail. Again.
Whatever Everett Sterling wanted—whether to warn her about the dangers of personal entanglements, to suggest strategic responses, or to remind her of family responsibilities—it could wait.
Right now, Max needed coffee. Needed a shower. Needed to prepare for the corporate performance ahead. For the continued silence from the woman who had somehow become important enough that her doubt hurt more than any accusation Max had faced in her professional life.
---
It was Vivien who called.
Max almost didn't answer. But habit won out—the ingrained response to a business contact.
"Why?" Vivien asked without preamble, voice sharp with the direct confrontation few others would dare.
Max sat in silence, not pretending to misunderstand.
Vivien didn't wait. "You had every reason to retaliate. To take her down. To use this to your advantage. Instead, you handled her mess and didn't even tell her."
"She's already drowning," Max said quietly. "She doesn't need me handing her the anchor."
The admission cost her—revealed more than she'd intended about her feelings for Aurelia.
"You're not doing this to be noble. You're doing this because you care about her."
Max didn't deny it. Couldn't, when the evidence was so clear in her actions.
"Does she know?" Vivien asked. "That you found the proof? That you sent it to me instead of the press?"
"No," Max replied. "And I don't want her to. Not yet."
"You're not going to win her back by protecting her in the shadows, Max."
"I'm not trying to win anything," Max said, voice tightening. "I just don't want her to lose."
The distinction was important—not about victory or advantage, but about protection. About caring enough to act without requiring recognition. About putting someone else's needs above strategic considerations for perhaps the first time in Max's carefully ordered life.
Vivien paused. "You should tell her. Before someone else does."
Max didn't answer.
The silence was heavy with implications, with the recognition that whatever existed between them had evolved far beyond their initial rivalry, beyond physical attraction, into something neither had anticipated.
Something that had Max sacrificing advantage to protect someone who believed the worst of her.
"I have to go," Max said. "Board meeting."
"Max," Vivien said, voice gentler. "She needs to know it was you."
"No," Max replied. "She needs to know it wasn't me. Who found the truth doesn't matter."
But they both knew it did. That the distinction between innocence and active protection was significant. That Max's choice revealed something fundamental about what Aurelia meant to her.
"Your call," Vivien conceded. "But for what it's worth? This proves what I suspected all along."
"What's that?"
"That Maxine Sterling has a heart after all."
Max ended the call without responding, the observation striking too close to truths she wasn't ready to name. Truths about vulnerability and the possibility that what began as rivalry had become something she couldn't walk away from, even when hurt replaced connection.
Even when the smart move, the strategic choice, the Sterling way would have been to cut losses and move on.
Instead, she'd chosen protection over advantage. Had acted from feeling rather than calculation.
---
By 10AM, the news had spread through Kaiser headquarters.
Not publicly—not yet. But in whispers, in urgent meetings, in the controlled chaos of crisis management shifting direction.
A mole. A plant. An assistant with access and motives that had nothing to do with fashion and everything to do with sabotage.
Max watched from a distance, corporate intelligence keeping her informed without direct inquiry. She reviewed contracts with practiced focus, maintaining the facade of business as usual while her thoughts remained fixed on Aurelia.
On whether she now understood Max's innocence. Whether doubt had been replaced by relief, perhaps. Regret, possibly. But most likely just professional reassessment, the recalibration of strategic considerations now that blame had shifted.
Max told herself it didn't matter. That she'd done what needed doing, not for gratitude but because it was right. Because Aurelia deserved to know who had actually betrayed her.
But beneath the practiced indifference, she found herself watching the door. Checking her phone. Waiting for something. A call. A message. An acknowledgment that the suspicion had been misplaced.
None came.
Instead, Lani appeared with her daily briefing, expression carefully neutral despite obvious curiosity.
"Kaiser's handling things quietly," she reported. "No press statement, just continued messaging that the 'preview' was intentional. But there's movement—security escorts, ID checks, system audits."
Max nodded. "Their strategy?"
"Maintaining the narrative while quietly closing the security hole. Smart, actually."
"And the collaboration?"
"Still on, officially."
"Good," Max said, returning to her laptop.
But Lani didn't leave. She set a folder on Max's desk with deliberate care.
"What's this?" Max asked.
"Information on Mia Halberd," Lani replied. "Including who hired her. Who paid her. Who she was really working for."
Max's eyes snapped up. "I didn't request this."
"No," Lani agreed. "But you're not the only one who spent the night digging. And I thought you should know the full picture."
"Why?"
"Because whoever orchestrated this wasn't just targeting Kaiser," Lani said quietly. "They were targeting both of you. Specifically. Personally."
The implication settled heavily—that the leak wasn't merely corporate sabotage, but something calculated to drive a wedge between Max and Aurelia precisely when they'd been building something real.
Max didn't reach for the folder. Didn't want to complicate an already tangled situation.
"Thank you," she said. "I'll review it later."
As Lani reached the door, she paused. "For what it's worth? I think what you did was brave."
"I didn't do anything," Max replied automatically.
"Exactly. You could have burned Kaiser to the ground. Could have cleared your name publicly, made Aurelia look incompetent, leveraged the whole situation for maximum advantage."
"That would have been shortsighted."
"That would have been textbook CEO behavior," Lani corrected. "But you chose something else. Someone else."
The observation hung in the air, too accurate to dismiss.
"That will be all, Lani."
After she left, Max stared at the folder but made no move to open it. Whatever it contained—whoever had orchestrated this sabotage—it could wait.
For now, it was enough that Aurelia knew the truth. That the real snake had been identified.
The rest—the emotional fallout, whether trust once broken could be repaired—that would come later.
If it came at all.
---
Meanwhile – Kaiser HQ
Mia Halberd didn't come in that morning.
Security had already deactivated her badge. Emptied her desk. Removed all system access. Standard protocol for a breach, executed with quiet efficiency.
No public announcement. Just controlled containment of a security issue.
In her office, Aurelia stared at her computer, at the evidence Vivien had forwarded with only: Source confirmed. Acting on this now.
The report was meticulous. Detailed. Damning in its precision.
The trail from Mia to the leak was clear. Undeniable. The timing deliberate, the execution calculated, the motive financial.
But it was the sender that held Aurelia's attention. The quiet signature at the bottom, easily missed if you weren't looking for it.
M.S.
Max Sterling.
Max had sent it.
Not to the press. Not to competitors. Not even to Aurelia directly.
To Vivien. Discreetly. Without fanfare or demand for acknowledgment.
Simply ensuring the truth reached the right person to protect Kaiser from further damage.
To protect Aurelia from further betrayal.
Even after the accusation. Even after the doubt. Even after the silence when Max had reached out to proclaim her innocence.
Aurelia closed her laptop with shaking hands, the evidence of Max's intervention settling in her chest with unexpected weight.
For the first time since the leak, she didn't feel betrayed.
She felt protected.
And it scared her more than anything else.
Because betrayal was familiar. Was expected. Was the confirmation of her belief that trust was dangerous, that vulnerability invited exploitation, that people ultimately acted in their own interests.
Protection was different. Was unexpected. Was the contradiction of everything she'd trained herself to believe about relationships, about the careful distance required to prevent hurt.
The kind of distance she'd maintained with everyone—until Max. Until champagne secrets and vulnerability in darkness and the gradual lowering of walls she'd spent a lifetime building.
Walls Max had just bypassed completely by choosing protection over advantage. By acting not from self-interest but from care. By demonstrating that whatever existed between them was strong enough to withstand doubt and accusation.
Aurelia reached for her phone, thumbs hovering over the screen. She should call. Should text. Should acknowledge Max's innocence, her protection, her choice to put Aurelia's welfare above her own vindication.
But the words wouldn't come. What could she possibly say that would be enough? That would acknowledge not just her mistake in doubting Max, but the significance of Max's protection? That would bridge the gap that formed when she chose suspicion over trust?
She set the phone down and moved to her window. Outside, clouds gathered on the horizon, the sky darkening with the promise of a storm. Weather warnings had circulated all morning—thunderstorms, heavy rain, potential power outages.
Inside, a different storm brewed—one of uncertainty and regret and the recognition that what existed between her and Max had shifted into something unexpected. Something that had Max choosing protection over advantage. Something that had Aurelia questioning everything she'd believed about trust and vulnerability.
Vivien appeared in her doorway. "What are you going to do?" she asked simply.
Aurelia stared at the gathering clouds, at the first threads of lightning. "I don't know," she admitted.
But even as she said it, she felt something shifting inside. A decision forming beneath the uncertainty, beneath the fear, beneath the walls she'd built to protect herself from exactly this kind of vulnerability.
Because Max had chosen her. Had protected her. Had put her needs above strategic advantage in a way no one else ever had.
And maybe that deserved more than silence in return.
The first rumble of thunder echoed as the storm began its approach.