Cut deep
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Cut deep
Her world stopped spinning the moment she heard Charles Montgomery’s name. The air in Damian’s office suddenly felt thick and Suffocating. She gripped the arms of her chair, her knuckles turning white as the implications of Jackson’s words sank in.
“Charles? Are you certain?” Her voice came out as a whisper.
Damian’s eyes were fixed on her. “Elara, who is Charles Montgomery?”
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “He was… he is… my mentor. The man who gave me my first real chance in the corporate world.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth.
Memories flooded back unbidden: Charles’s encouraging smile on her first day, his patient explanations, his teachings, and thé pride in his eyes when she closed her first major deal. Each recollection was now tainted by the knowledge of his betrayal.
Elara stood abruptly, needing to move, to do something to quell the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She paced back and forth in Damian’s office, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.
“I don’t understand,” she said, more to herself than to Damian or the ghostly voice of Jackson on the speakerphone. “Why would he do this? What could Daniel Regars possibly offer him that would make him turn on me?”
Damian’s gentle voice was a stark contrast to Elara’s inner turmoil “Sometimes people aren’t who we think they are, Their motivations can be…”
“Don’t,” Elara cut him off sharply. “Don’t try to justify this, Damian. There’s no excuse for what he’s done.”
Elara.
She stopped at the window, staring out. The betrayal cut deep. She couldn’t believe this. Trust had never come easily to Elara, not after her difficult upbringing. Charles had been one of the few people she had allowed herself to believe in and rely on.
A hollow laugh escaped her lips. “You know, I always wondered how Daniel seemed to be one step ahead of me, how he always knew exactly where to hit to cause the most damage.” She turned back to face Damian, her eyes blazing with a mixture of pain and anger. “It was Charles. All along, it was Charles.”
Damian stood up after ending the call. He moved towards her with hesitant steps. “What do you want to do?”
For a moment, Elara was tempted to lash out, to demand immediate revenge. The urge to strike back, to make Charles feel the same pain and betrayal, was almost overwhelming. But years of corporate battles had taught her the value of strategy over hasty
action.
”
She took a deep breath, shaking her shoulders. When she spoke, her voice was calm, masking the turmoil and anger she felt. We gather evidence. Incontrovertible proof of his betrayal. And then…” A cold smile played at the corners of her lips. “Then we make him regret the day he ever decided to cross me.”
Damian nodded, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. “I’ll have Jackson start gathering everything we have. We’ll build a case so strong that Charles won’t know what hit him.”
Elara turned back to the window, her reflection staring back at her. The woman she saw was not the naive girl who had once looked up to Charles Montgomery. This woman was harder, wiser, and infinitely more dangerous.
“Charles taught me everything he knew about surviving in the corporate world,” she said softly. “It’s time to show him just how well I learned those lessons.”
Damian rose to his feet. “This is the Elara I know. The strong Elara who never bows.”
She turned to face him, a cruel smile on her lips. “I will make him suffer.” She recalled the day she was questioned, the day she begged him to let her handle the Harris case. Why did I not think it was Charles? Why was I blaming Margaret all along? I thought she was the one behind my problems because she hated me.
“Ugh! I still can’t believe it.”
“People won’t believe it until it happens to them,” Damian said, joining her by the window. “But you don’t have to worry about him.”
1/3
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“I won’t.” Yet, Elara couldn’t shake the news from her mind; it lingered like a dark cloud. He destroyed her just because of his selfish interests. He turned people against her. All her hard work was ruined because of him–the man she had always looked up
“I need to go see Leah,” she said, suddenly breaking the silent between them.
“Who is Leah?” Damian questioned with a frown.
“She was my assistant when I was still working at the firm,” she confessed.
Damian scoffed, thinking she was going there to confront Charles “Why?”
“I need to see her,” she repeated, picking up her bag.
Damian moved closer, gripping her chin with a clear warning as he spoke. “If you dare disclose this to Charles, I will make you suffer.”
She trembled under his cold, dark gaze. “I won’t speak a word. Trust me.”
“Well, it’s for your own good. I won’t stop you. You can go, but make sure to be back soon, honey,” he muttered, his tone softening slightly. “I will be waiting.” Elara nodded before heading out. “Wait, ask the driver to take you there.
“Okay,” With that, she opened the door and left.
She could feel their gazes on her as she approached the entrance.
“Ma’am, are we heading home?” her driver asked, opening the car door.
“No, not yet,” she replied, entering the car. “To Marshall & Hewitt ”
“Okay, ma’am,” the driver said before starting the car and driving out. The drive wasn’t long, and soon they reached her former firm. Elara stepped out elegantly as the driver quickly opened the car door for her. She walked into the firm, and all eyes turned to her as soon as she entered. She was glowing and dressed elegantly–a perfect image of a noblewoman.
“Look who is here,” came the mocking voice of her old enemy. She turned around, her gaze meeting Margaret’s. She was still the same woman–the same thorn she had once thought responsible for her downfall. Yet, in that moment, her hatred for Margaret vanished. “Isn’t this Elara Hart?”
She smirked and approached Margaret. “If I were you, I’d address the name properly. Elara Blackwood.” Margaret’s eyes narrowed, her mocking smile fading as jealousy flashed across her face.
“Shut up, bitch,” she yelled. “You’re nothing.”
“You should say that about yourself, Margaret. Everyone knows that I’m married,” she replied, showing off her beautiful ring that sat perfectly on her finger. “I’m Damian Blackwood’s wife.”
“We all know how you seduced him,” Margaret sneered. “You lured that innocent man.”
“I know you wish to be like me–to seduce him,” Elara mocked. “But you will never be like me, Margaret, because you will never be able to seduce him in your lifetime. Continue hating while I flourish.”
She turned and started walking toward where she hoped to find Leah, where her assistant’s desk used to be before she left the
firm.
“You… stop right there!” Margaret commanded, but Elara ignored her and kept going. She was still on her way when she came across another familiar face–the one who had destroyed everything she had built: Charles.
“Elara,” he called sweetly. “What brings you here?”
‘Charles,” Elara replied, smiling brightly. Just as Damian had advised, she acted as if she knew nothing about what he had done behind her back. Charles caressed her hair, an old habit of his. “I’m here to see Leah.”
“Leah,” Charles repeated. “She isn’t in the company right now.”
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“Where is she?” she asked.
“Ah, about that,” he stammered. Elara looked at him, trying to control her anger. Had he done something to her?
“Tell me, Charles. What happened to her?”
“Nothing. It’s about her brother.”
“What about him?” Elara asked, her worry growing.
“He’s dead.”
Elara was shocked by the news. How? How did this happen? She blamed herself for not coming sooner. She had sensed the worry in Leah’s voice the last time they talked. Leah must be devastated.
“When?” she muttered softly.
“It’s been three days now,” he responded. “She…”
Charles couldn’t finish his statement before Elara turned and ran out. She could hear him calling after her.
“Let’s go,” she told the driver as she got into the car. She began dialing Leah’s number. It rang, but no one picked up.
“Where to, madam?” the driver asked, starting the engine.
“Houston Street. Please be fast.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The drive from the firm to Leah’s home took longer than usual, the minutes dragging by agonizingly. “We’re here, ma’am,” the driver announced. Elara rushed out immediately.
“I’ll be right back.” She hurried to Leah’s house as fast as her legs could carry her.
“Leah,” she called, knocking on the door. “Are you in there?”
“Who are you?” a stranger asked, peering out from a neighboring house.
“Ma’am, I’m looking for the person who lived here,” Elara replied politely. “Leah.”
“You mean the young lady whose brother recently died?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“She isn’t home right now,” the woman replied.
“Do you know where she is?” Elara asked, hope fading from her voice.
“No, I don’t. You can try calling her number,” the woman suggested before retreating back into her home. Elara turned back, dialing Leah’s number again as she walked toward the car. Still, no answer.
As they drove back, she continued trying Leah’s number, worry gnawing at her. “I wonder what might be happening to her right now,” she whispered to herself. “I’m so worried.”
