Elina Hart lit the match.
The flame flickered—golden, hungry, dangerous—hovering just above the edge of the Hart Group press release.
She stood alone on her penthouse rooftop garden, staring down at the city that used to belong to her. Wind danced through her chestnut hair, the scent of roses and scorched ink swirling in the night air. The paper trembled in her grip—the very statement that announced her "departure" from the company she was raised to run.
Her legacy.
Her inheritance.
Her birthright.
The match burned low, kissing her skin. She didn't flinch.
She dropped it.
The flame devoured the page, curling the paper into ash. Black ink dissolved. Her name and Aidan Blackstone vanished into smoke.
She watched it burn, arms crossed, heart still beating despite the hollow in her chest.
> "Goodbye, Hart Group."
A tear slipped free, hot and silent.
She didn't wipe it away.
Let it fall.
Let the world see that she felt everything—and still
---
Twelve hours ago, she had been a name carved in gold. The CEO-in-waiting. The heiress of a billion-dollar empire.
Now? An outcast. Silenced. Replaced.
By a man who had barely walked through the doors and already turned the board against her.
How did he do it?
She paced across the marble floor of her apartment, her heels clicking with fury. The city lights blurred through her tears. Her phone buzzed with texts and emails she refused to answer.
"Where are you?" "Can't believe they voted you out." "Didn't see that coming. Are you okay?"
She turned the phone over.
They didn't mean it.
Not really. Not when they didn't speak before the vote. Not when they watched her drown and said nothing.
They had looked her in the eyes—every board member—and nodded in agreement with her projections, her plans, her leadership. And then, like cowards, they bowed to Aidan Blackstone's charm and influence the moment he promised them higher profits and bigger returns.
Loyalty meant nothing in the face of greed.
Her stomach turned
---
She poured herself a glass of her father's favorite bourbon—Dalmore 25. The one bottle he'd told her not to open until she earned her place. She had promised she'd wait until the day she was officially made CEO.
"I guess this counts," she whispered.
The first sip was fire.
So was the memory that came with it.
---
Three Years Ago
Hart Group Headquarters – Executive Lounge
"You think they'll hand it to you because you're my daughter?" her father asked, his voice as rich and measured as the scotch in his glass.
Elina sat straight-backed on the leather couch, papers spread in front of her. "No. I think I've worked harder than half the men in that boardroom."
"You have." He nodded. "And still—it won't be enough."
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
Her father turned to face her fully. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those sharp, calculating eyes—held a warning.
"Elina, listen to me. You're brilliant. Unshakeable. You have vision. But in the world you're stepping into, that's not what gets you the crown."
"Then what does?" she asked.
"Perception. Fear. Leverage."
She frowned. "That's not how you built the company."
A bitter smile touched his lips. "That's exactly how I built it. I just didn't tell you the whole story."
She looked down at the paperwork in her lap, suddenly unsure of the world she had idolized since childhood.
"You can be a good person, Elina," he said gently. "But don't be naive. The wolves will smile before they bite."
---
His voice haunted her now.
He had been right.
Aidan Blackstone hadn't just bitten—he'd devoured.
Elina swallowed the rest of the bourbon, letting it sear the ache in her throat. She stared at the skyline, remembering how her father used to say, "Own the sky, baby girl. Don't just touch it—own it."
She wanted to scream. Cry. Throw something.
But she didn't.
Instead, she walked to her mirror and stared hard at her reflection.
Eyes rimmed red. Mascara smudged. Lips trembling with something dangerous.
Not fear.
Fire.
They had thrown her out like a cracked diamond. Like she was disposable.
Let them believe that.
Because the truth?
She was still Elina Hart.
And this wasn't over.