Josh's POV
Something inside of me exploded as I saw the business laptop open and the flash drive sticking out of the USB port. I felt waves of the same old chilly dread that had plagued me for months.
Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, but she didn't click anything as she froze at the desk. I could see the strain radiating from her shoulders even though she didn't move or click anything.
The folder named BLACKWELL FILES kept staring at me from the screen like a ghost from a grave I had buried years ago.
I stepped into the server room fully. "Where did you get that?"
Her voice was even. "Why does it matter?"
"It matters because that drive is a trap," I added, taking slow movements to get closer to her.
Her face was harshly shadowed by the fluorescent lights overhead.
"It's not real, whatever it is on there. It's made especially to destroy me."
She kept her eyes on the TV even though her lips slightly parted. There was nothing but distrust in those dark eyes that had once gazed at me with something like fondness.
"You sound defensive for someone with nothing to hide."
She continued to view me as the enemy even after we had been married for months.
"I'm serious, Sofia." I struggled to maintain a calm voice as I motioned towards the laptop. "Take it off. Now. Before you trigger something that can't be undone."
Her fingers trembled slightly as she glanced at me. I could see the fatigue written in the small creases around her eyes in the glaring light, the weight of uncertainty bearing down on her.
"What are the Blackwell Files?" She asked.
"A fabrication," I immediately answered. "Someone has been attempting to fabricate a story about me ever since my father passed away."
"You're saying someone planted this?" There was a tone of doubt in her voice, as though she wanted to believe me but was having trouble.
"Yes." The word sounded harsher than I had meant.
"Who?"
I felt the annoyance rising as I combed my hair. "If I knew, they'd be in a cell by now."
Although she remained seated, I could see the internal conflict reflected in her features.
"You could be lying." The remark struck like a blow to the body.
"Then plug it in," I said, extending my arms. "Check it out for yourself."
Her eyes shifted from me to the TV and back again. Her hand moved painfully slowly toward the mouse.
Before she could finish the motion, I moved in front of her and the laptop.
"Don't." I kept my tone calm, but firm. "If you open that folder here, on a Reynolds device, they'll trace it. Whoever sent it. They'll know you took the bait. And they'll make sure the next trap isn't so easy to walk away from."
Sofia's hand froze in midair as she blinked.
"I've been dealing with this for months," I said bitterly. "My email contains threats. Compromised inboxes. Attempts at blackmail that quite turn into demands. Someone wants me destroyed, and the board will have the right to cancel my one-year contract if my reputation is damaged. Everything I've struggled to protect and everything my father built will be gone."
For the first time in a while, I heard something other than accusations in her voice as she said softly, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you wouldn't believe me" I responded, the truth stinging me in the throat. "Why give you more ammunition when you've already decided I'm the villain in your life"
Something changed in her face, but she didn't answer. A breach in her disdainful armor.
I stared at her. Even though it was late, her luxury clothing was still spotless, and she had great posture. Her eyes, however, had changed. A weight that had not been there that morning was now in their possession.
"Who gave it to you?" I asked.
Her jaw tightened. "It doesn't matter."
"It is important. Because whoever said that was well-prepared to frighten you. They were aware of which fears to play on and which buttons to press." I said.
She murmured, "I didn't open it," and eventually took her hand off the mouse. "You stopped me."
I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me.
"All right. This implies that there is still time to clean up this mess."
Her skepticism was evident in every line of her face as she arched an eyebrow.
"Fix what, exactly?"
"This." I waved between us, covering the area that seemed like a void. "Us. The home. Eliza. The company. We must quit playing opposing sides in this conflict, no matter what the hell is going on."
"I'm not playing games," she murmured, standing from the chair with fluid ease. "I'm just trying to figure out who I married."
No amount of physical force could ever match the force of those words. With a sudden dry throat, I took a step back.
"Then you'll have to decide what kind of man you want to believe in."
She remained silent. Instead, she gave me a final, calculated, stare that might have frozen blood. I was left alone with the humming servers and the burden of my mistakes as she slipped by me and left.
That night, I remained in my home office, the flash drive laid across my desk like a crime scene's evidence. I hardly noticed that the brandy in my glass had long since warmed up.
The confirmation of my fears came quickly. The drive was a very advanced piece of malware, with layers and layers of destructive code that were meant to look real while damaging everything it came into contact with. It would have automatically uploaded fake files to our servers, tracked IP addresses across our network, and potentially sent private corporate information to external servers if Sofia had connected it to any Reynolds device.
I had previously witnessed a similar setup, one of our supposed partners attempted to release falsified corruption records tied to Reynolds Enterprises when my father was still alive.
I leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. My father's voice echoed in my head.
"You can buy power, Josh. But respect? That's earned by surviving the fall."
It had not been easy because of him. Not for the Reynolds family, not for me, not for the business. Dad gave me everything in his will when he passed away, but there were unspoken conditions. Unseen enemies who had been plotting their retaliation for years.
At first, the marriage provision in his will had seemed like a cruel joke. Locate an appropriate person. Put an end to it in a year. Maintain the public's perception. That's all he'd ever cared about, optics, appearances, and power.
However, Sofia… she felt more real than I had anticipated. I never thought it would matter if she gave me a warm or scornful gaze.
She now regarded me as though I was the monster.
She was already dressed for the day when I entered the dining room the following morning, wearing pearls and a sharp navy blazer. With her school uniform neatly ironed, Eliza sat at the mahogany table, bouncing her legs and carefully going through a bowl of porridge.
"Good morning!" she chirped with a smile that could light up the whole house.
I returned her smile, but I couldn't take my eyes off Sofia.
"Can we talk?"
She smoothed down her skirt and stood with a studied grace.
"Eliza, go upstairs and pick out a book for school reading time."
The little girl ran off happily.
Sofia put up a barrier between us by crossing her arms. "I didn't tell anyone about the flash drive."
"I know you didn't."
"But I also didn't forget what that woman said to me."
I steadily maintained eye contact. "Do you think there's truth to her claims?"
"I don't know whom to trust anymore. She mentioned there was another woman before me. Vale Cassandra, that she..
"She's dead," I said bluntly. The words sank into the quiet water like stones.
Sofia stared, surprised that I was so straightforward.
"Cassandra and I were engaged for a while. From the first time they met, my father hated her. Claimed that she was a diversion from work and a gold digger who would deplete the family's finances. He put pressure on me until I ended the relationship."
"What happened to her?"
"She disappeared three weeks after I ended our engagement." I lowered my voice to hardly more than a whisper. "But I had nothing to do with that. But I had nothing to do with that. The police investigated. Her family hired private investigators. Nothing ever came of it."
Sofia's expression was unreadable. "And the Blackwell account?"
"Is completely fabricated," I firmly stated. "The alleged 'evidence' on that drive is similar. Elaborate lies intended to undermine my credibility."
She gazed at me for a considerable amount of time.
She finally remarked, "I'll be late for my appointment," and took her keys from the silver tray near the entrance.
"Where are you going?"
"Out."She replied.
"That's not an answer, Sofia."
"I wasn't offering one." She walked out.
It wasn't until dusk that she returned, long after Eliza had gone to bed and the home had been quiet for the evening. While sipping a tumbler of aged whisky and observing the distant twinkling city lights, I waited on the stone terrace. When her car finally pulled up, I stood. But she didn't walk toward me.
However, rather than approaching me as she always did, Instead, she got out and tossed something onto the table.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Proof," she said, with a weight in her voice. "A strange man in a coffee shop handed these to me and disappeared before I could ask him a single question."
My fingers were cautious when I opened the envelope. Grainy black-and-white surveillance photos. One was of me going into a building in Shanghai on a work trip two years ago. Another showed me shaking hands with someone I hardly knew, most likely a little business associate whose face had faded with time.
"These are fake," I declared, sifting through the pile in a rage. "Digital tricks. These could be made by anyone with a good piece of software."
"Then you have nothing to worry about."
"You had someone follow me?"
"No," she said, maintaining her poise throughout. "However, someone did. Someone who will not stop until I believe them."
"And do you?" I managed to ask.
Her expression stayed completely calm.
"I don't know. However, I am aware that they are not merely aiming for me. We're both involved."
"What do you mean?"
She turned to go inside. But just before the door closed, she looked back.
"You should check your company server logs. Someone accessed your father's private archive yesterday. Remotely. From inside Reynolds Enterprises."
I stared at her, stunned.
She whispered, "You're not being framed from the outside, Josh. You're being hunted from within."