Chương 8
“You handled that well.”
“I almost lost control twice.”
He smiled slightly.
“That means you’re human.”
I looked back through the glass.
Tristan was still inside.
Alone.
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“No.”
Noah followed my gaze.
“It probably won’t for a while.”
I hated that he was right.
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
I opened it.
The message contained one sentence.
You think Tristan betrayed you, but you have no idea what he was protecting you from.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
Noah noticed my expression.
“What happened?”
I handed him the phone.
His face changed.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“That number.”
“What?”
“I’ve seen it before.”
“Where?”
He looked at the screen.
Then at me.
“In the documents from the shell company.”
The hallway suddenly felt much quieter.
Because the story I thought I understood had just changed.
And somewhere inside the mess Tristan created, there was another person who had been waiting for me to find the truth.
And somewhere inside the mess Tristan created, there was another person who had been waiting for me to find the truth.
I looked at Noah.
“Who?”
He did not answer immediately.
That bothered me more than if he had.
Noah was not someone who enjoyed suspense.
He was someone who disliked uncertainty.
“The number appears in a communication log attached to one of the shell companies.”
I took the phone back.
“Whose communication log?”
“That’s what I’m trying to confirm.”
I stared at the message again.
You think Tristan betrayed you, but you have no idea what he was protecting you from.
The sentence was written to provoke fear.
That alone told me something.
Whoever sent it did not want me to understand.
They wanted me to react.
I had spent enough time around investors to recognize manipulation.
Fear was the fastest way to make people surrender control.
“Don’t respond,” Noah said.
“I wasn’t going to.”
He gave me a look.
“You were thinking about it.”
I looked away.
He was right.
Part of me wanted to demand answers.
Part of me wanted to know what Tristan had been hiding.
But curiosity had already cost me enough.
“Find out who owns the number.”
“I’ll try.”
“Not through anything questionable.”
Noah raised an eyebrow.
“You’re worried about ethics now?”
“I’m worried about giving anyone a reason to make me look unstable.”
That was the reality.
A woman accusing a powerful executive of misconduct was not automatically believed.
Especially when that woman was his former partner.
Especially when millions of dollars were involved.
The truth mattered.
But so did how the truth arrived.
That evening, I stayed late at Apex.
Not because I needed to.
Because going home felt too quiet.
The building emptied slowly.
Lights turned off floor by floor.
Eventually, I was the only person left on my level.
I walked into the research area and looked through the glass walls of the main laboratory.
The first prototype was still displayed near the entrance.
A small device.
A simple design.
The beginning of everything.
I remembered the night Tristan first saw it.
He had stayed until two in the morning listening while I explained every detail.
He had asked questions.
Real questions.
He had looked at me like I was the most interesting person in the room.
That memory hurt more than the others.
Because it meant there had been something real.
People often imagine betrayal as proof that every moment before it was fake.
That was easier.
But life was rarely that clean.
Sometimes someone could love you and still hurt you.
Sometimes someone could believe in you and still choose themselves.
That was what made forgiveness complicated.
Not that people deserved it.
That they were still human while doing terrible things.
My phone rang.
I expected Noah.
It was Tristan.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“What?”
A long pause.
His voice sounded different.
“You found the message.”
Not a question.
I stood still.
“You know about it.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Another pause.
“Because it was sent to you by someone who wants you afraid.”
I gripped the phone.
“And you know who?”
“I know enough.”
I walked toward the window.
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
The answer made my anger rise.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
I closed my eyes.
For one second, I was back in our apartment.
Back before everything changed.
Back when his voice could calm me.
It no longer worked.
“You don’t get to protect me from the truth after lying to me.”
“I know.”
The admission surprised me.
I said nothing.
“I know I destroyed your trust.”
“Then stop pretending you’re helping.”
“I am trying to.”
“No.”
My voice became sharper.
“You’re trying to control the damage.”
Silence.
A painful one.
Then Tristan said,
“You think this is about money.”
I looked around the empty office.
“The documents suggest otherwise.”
“It’s bigger than Apex.”
“Explain.”
“I can’t.”
I almost laughed.
“Everyone in my life suddenly has secrets.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?”
He did not answer.
I waited.
For once, I let him sit inside the silence.
Finally, he spoke.
“Your father left things behind.”
My breathing changed.
I hated that he noticed.
“You don’t get to bring him into this.”
“I’m not using him.”
“Then why mention him?”
“Because you deserve to know.”
I looked at the dark reflection of myself in the window.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Another pause.
The longest one.
“Because I was afraid.”
The answer was so unexpected that I did not respond.
Tristan continued.
“Not of you.”
I almost interrupted.
But I stopped.
“Of what would happen if you knew everything.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“You don’t get to decide what I can handle.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I do know.”
His voice cracked slightly.
A sound I had never heard from him before.
“I know I made choices for you.”
May you like
I stayed silent.
“I know I convinced myself it was protection.”
