A metallic taste lingered on Elara's tongue. She paced her office, the threat from Graham Holloway a cold knot in her stomach. Every email notification, every vibrating phone, sent a jolt of anxiety through her. Rhys trusted her. He had approved her initiative, seeing the good in it. Holloway’s exposure would unravel everything. Pushing the unsettling thoughts aside, Elara moved to her computer. She needed a distraction, something concrete to focus on. Suddenly, her screen flickered. A news alert popped up, its headline bold and aggressive: "Obsidian Enterprises Under Fire: Questionable Practices Exposed?" Her blood ran cold. Clicking the link, a cascade of articles and social media posts flooded her view. Accusations of predatory land acquisition, inflated project costs, and unethical dealings were plastered everywhere. Rhys's name was mentioned repeatedly, always linked to scandal. A sickening wave washed over her. Was this Holloway’s doing? Was he targeting Rhys to get to her? Rising abruptly, Elara’s chair scraped against the polished floor. She had to see Rhys, to understand what was happening. Her steps were hesitant as she approached his office. The usual hum of focused activity in the executive wing was replaced by a strange, stifled silence. Voices were hushed. Faces were grim. His office door stood slightly ajar. Peeking inside, she saw him. He wasn't at his grand desk. Rhys stood by the panoramic window, his back to the room. His posture was rigid, almost brittle. Morning light, usually a golden halo around him, now seemed to highlight a tense, almost fragile line in his shoulders. Approaching quietly, Elara stopped a few feet away. He hadn't noticed her yet. His hand, usually so steady, gripped a tablet. Knuckles were white against the dark screen. He scrolled through something, his gaze fixed, unwavering. Watching him, a pang of unexpected empathy struck her. Rhys, the impenetrable CEO, the man who commanded every room, seemed… smaller. He cleared his throat, a dry, raspy sound. "They're coming for us," he muttered, his voice low, almost to himself. Elara took a shallow breath. "Rhys?" she ventured. He flinched, turning sharply. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were shadowed, a raw vulnerability exposed.

Chapter 34: Rhys's Unseen Wounds