Ava’s POV

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife as I leaned back in the plush leather chair, watching the video on Rose’s tablet play out in horrifying detail. Chloe’s staged theatrics were chillingly convincing. Her fake cries, her desperate appearance—it was all an elaborate performance.

“She’s been planning this for awhile,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. “How did we let her slip through the cracks for so long?”

Rose, standing stiffly beside Orion, cleared her throat. “It gets worse,” she said, her voice low but steady. “The breach in the company’s security last month? We’ve traced it back to the Jamesons. They’ve been pulling strings behind the scenes, and we have reasons to believe that Chloe’s part of their game.”

I froze, my fingers gripping the armrests tightly. The Jamesons. Of course, it was them. “They’ve been working together all along?” I whispered, fury bubbling beneath the surface. “She’s their pawn. She wants revenge, and they want our company. It’s a perfect storm.”

Before I could say more, my phone buzzed on the table, its screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number. Hesitating only briefly, I moved away and answered.

“Ava,” the familiar voice on the other end brought immediate relief. “It’s Theo.”

“Uncle Theo,” I said, exhaling deeply. “It’s been ages. Where have you been?”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said, his tone laced with guilt. “I’ve been so caught up with the orphanage. There was a fire, Ava. The whole building went up in flames. I had to stay and oversee the reconstruction. These kids... they needed me. I couldn’t leave them without a roof over their heads.”

The weight of his words hit me like a punch to the chest. “Oh, Theo,” I said softly, my anger and frustration melting away. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Are they okay? Are you okay?”

“We’re managing,” he said with a heavy sigh. “The new building is almost complete, but it’s taken everything I’ve got.”

“You should have told me sooner,” I said, guilt washing over me. “The Millers Enterprise will donate to the orphanage, Theo. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

There was a pause on the other end, and I could hear the emotion in his voice when he finally spoke. “Thank you, Ava. That means more than you know.”

“You’ve always been there for me,” I said firmly. “It’s the least I can do. But Theo, I have to ask—when are we going to use the card we have against the Jamesons? They’ve pushed us too far.”

“Soon,” he promised. “I’ve been gathering more evidence to ensure there are no loopholes when we strike. Trust me, Ava, we’ll take them down, but we have to be patient.”

I bit my lip, wanting to press him further but knowing he was right. “Alright,” I said reluctantly. “Just... don’t wait too long.”

We exchanged a few more words before hanging up, and I returned my focus to the room.

The room buzzed with tension as Orion paced, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Rose stood by the window, her arms crossed as she mulled over the situation. I leaned against the desk, trying to process everything that had unfolded in the last hour.

Before anyone could speak, Orion stopped abruptly, his gaze piercing as it locked onto me. "Who was that on the phone just now?" he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes betraying his curiosity.

I straightened, caught off guard by the question. “It was my uncle,” I said evenly, meeting his gaze.

Orion tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “Your uncle?” “Yes,” I replied, folding my arms. “My mother’s stepbrother, technically. It’s... a complicated story.” I hesitated, debating how much to reveal. “I’ll explain everything when the time is right.”

Orion’s lips pressed into a thin line, his silence speaking volumes. He didn’t trust half-answers, and I could tell he wasn’t satisfied. “Alright,” he said eventually, though the doubt lingered in his voice.

I nodded, deciding not to push further, but a flicker of frustration gnawed at me. He didn’t need to like my answers, but he would have to accept them—for now. ---

Rose broke the silence first. “The video was tampered with,” she said, her eyes narrowing at the screen. “The timestamps don’t align perfectly, and there are clear edits if you know where to look.”

“How can we prove that?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. “And even if we can, is it even possible to retrieve the original footage after all these years?”

“That’s the question,” Orion said, running a hand through his hair. “If Chloe went to such lengths to fake this, she probably covered her tracks thoroughly. Something is definitely off about that video and the figure—I’m certain that is not me, but something about him seems familiar.”

“But even the best forgers leave traces,” Rose interjected. “If we can find the original source, there’s a chance we can uncover the truth.”

“Finding the original source is the problem,” I said, standing and beginning to pace. “It’s been years. Do we even know where to start looking?”

“There’s always a digital footprint,” Rose replied confidently. “The footage had to come from somewhere. If we trace Chloe’s contacts, her finances, anything, we might find a lead.”

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “This feels like a needle in a haystack. And even if we find the footage, will it be admissible as evidence? Will it be enough to turn public opinion back in our favor?”

“It has to be,” Orion’s assistant said firmly, his voice filled with determination. “We don’t have another option.”

Speaking of Orion’s assistant, I thought it was Peter. Was he fired? That shady bastard, he must have embezzled funds.

The room fell into a contemplative silence as we all wrestled with the enormity of the task ahead. I could feel the weight of the scandal pressing down on me, threatening to crush everything we had worked so hard to rebuild.

But then, out of nowhere, Orion’s eyes widened, and he let out an excited gasp. “Oh my God,” he said, his voice trembling with realization. “That’s it!”

We all turned to look at him, confusion and hope mingling in our expressions.

“What’s it?” I asked, stepping closer.

Orion didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he grabbed a pen and paper from the table and began scribbling furiously. His hands were shaking slightly, but his movements were precise.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity.

“Listen, we don’t need to find the original footage. I think I know how to prove that this video was recreated,” he said, looking up at us with a triumphant grin. “But we need to act fast, before she comes up with something worse.”

His words hung in the air, a spark of hope in the midst of chaos. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a flicker of optimism. Maybe, just maybe, we still had a fighting chance.