Chapter 99

Rocco didn't risk lingering. He slipped out in haste, pulling the door shut behind him to grant Tristan privacy.

Doran hurried after him, voice dropping to a tense whisper. "Do we have a backup?"

"Yeah," Rocco muttered, exhaling hard, the strain evident in his tone. "Lucky for us, that new kid in tech likes saving extra copies. Without him, we'd be finished."

Relief swept over Doran's face as he released a shaky breath. "Who could've guessed someone would actually break through our firewall? And worse-get away with it. If only we'd caught it sooner..."

Rocco's jaw tightened. "From here on out, whatever we're handling, security comes first. We can't leave weak spots like this again. This disaster happened because we got cocky. That ends now."

Doran scrunched his nose as he noted, "You're starting to sound just like Mr. Pearson."

Rocco shot him a hard glare. "Cut the chatter and focus. Get that video restored immediately before this turns into a bigger mess."

Doran only gave a careless shrug. "Restored or not, what's the point? He already believes the woman that night was Eliana Murray."

"It doesn't hurt to be cautious. What if he's wrong?"

Still looking unbothered, Doran responded,"Whether or not she's the woman in the video, his clearly taken an interest in her."

Rocco shook his head firmly. "That's a different matter. He has always been the kind of man who remembers even the smallest kindness and returns it tenfold. Without that woman, he might have been cast out of the Pearson family long ago. She's his true benefactor. And if she turns out not to be Miss Murray,then he'll find another way to repay her."

Doran finally conceded with a faint grunt, "Fair point..." Their conversation trailed off as the two men walkedaway.

Not long after, a slender figure slipped into view along the second-floor corridor.

Anaya had been waiting for what felt like forever, her legs nearly numb from crouching there while Doran and Rocco lingered in Tristan's room.

Yet when she imagined what could come next, she pulled herself together with renewed strength. Tonight,Tristan would finally belong to her!

She straightened her posture, a confident smile curving her lips as she swayed her hips toward his door.She lifted her hand and knocked lightly, anticipation tightening her chest.

Inside, Tristan had just stripped off his shirt, ready to shower. His broad, muscular frame gleamed faintly in the dim golden glow.

At the knock, he assumed it was Rocco returning with more updates. Without bothering to cover himself, his voice came low and casual. "Come in."

Anaya seized the moment,.pushing the door wide. Her eyes devoured the sight of his sculpted body-broad shoulders tapering into firm, defined abs, every muscle chiseled from years of disciplined training. His v-line dipped beneath his waistband, leaving no trace of softness anywhere.

The moment she took it in, her heart kicked into overdrive.

She had come intending to seduce him, but the moment her eyes landed on him, her own composure faltered.

Desire swept through her with startling force, the same feverish rush she imagined men felt when confronted with a temptress.

The sheer perfection of his physique alone was enough to set her skin burning-let alone the face above it,so devastatingly handsome it felt otherworldly.

Tristan,assuming the knock had been Rocco, hadn't even looked up at first.

Only when the silence dragged on did he finally lift his head. His gaze hardened at once. Standing in the doorway was Anaya in a clingy strap dress, her eyes glittering with bold desire as they raked over him.

His brows knit, and a cold shadow crossed his face. "What the hell are you doing here? Get out."

Anaya brushed off his coldness and moved closer, arms lifting to circle his waist.

Before she could even touch him, a sharp kick slammed into her stomach, launching her backward into the door with a bone-rattling crash.

"Ugh-" she gasped, clutching her ribs, terror flashing in her wide eyes.

Her strap dress clung loosely to her frame, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

She had expected Tristan might at least waver at the sight, but instead, he struck with ruthless precision, as if showing a shred of compassion to a woman was beyond his nature.

"I..." Her trembling voice broke off.

"I'll say it one last time-get the fuck out. Stay another second, and tonight will be your end." His gaze burned with hostility, an icy, murderous aura radiating from him like a blade poised to strike.

Anaya shook with desperation, ignoring the sharp ache ripping through her stomach and back as she scrambled toward the exit.

But before her hand touched the doorframe, Tristan's deep voice cut across the room."Stop."

Her legs froze mid-stride, and a flicker of hope lit her tear-rimmed eyes. She was right! Men were all the same. None of them could resist a woman willing to throw herself into their arms, especially one who worked so hard to polish her looks and keep her figure flawless.

Turning back, she forced a sultry smile through the pain twisting her abdomen.

"Mr. Pearson..." Her tone dripped with sugary sweetness.

Yet her triumph lasted only a heartbeat. Tristan's voice followed, colder than steel. "Did you run into Eliana that day?" Anaya froze in disbelief.Had she really misread him this badly?

Tristan's voice dropped to a frigid edge. "Answer!"

Her gut tightened under the weight of his stare, fear slithering back over her skin.

She forced down a hard swallow. "Eliana? Who's that supposed to be?"

"A young lady," he said flatly.

The word struck her like a stone. In this place, aside from the middle-aged cook in her fifties, everyone was male.

There was no mistaking it-if she had crossed paths with Eliana, she would know exactly who Tristan meant.

His sharp eyes caught the brief flash of panic on her face.

"I... I might've seen some young lady," she admitted, her voice turning defensive. "But so what? Why does that matter to you?"

Tristan's dark gaze pierced through her, his lips curling into a smile that carried no warmth. "Did you tell her you were my girlfriend?"

Anaya's stomach dropped, panic clawing at her chest, though instinct pushed her head into a frantic shake."No, that's not true. I never told her a thing."

A low, mirthless chuckle escaped Tristan, cold enough to freeze the air between them.

He closed the distance with deliberate steps, his presence radiating raw menace. "So that's it. That's why she thought I was already taken. You planted that idea...

Shaking her head frantically, she replied, "No, I didn't..."

Before the words could leave her mouth, Tristan's hand clamped around her throat.

Air vanished instantly. Despair crashed over her as she clawed at his grip, her lungs burning with the suffocating pressure. Tristan's voice rang in her ears, razor-edged and merciless. "Do you understand she's the one l claimed the moment I laid eyes on her? She's destined to be my wife. And you made her believe I'm nothing but a fickle man who can't keep to one woman. Now tell me, how do you think I should repay you for that?"

The deliberate weight he put on the word "repay" sent Anaya's stomach dropping, terror clawing up her throat.

"I'm sorry..." Anaya rasped, her voice a broken whisper forced through his tightening hold, too frightened now to offer a single excuse.

"Sorry?" His eyes glinted with frost as his hand constricted around her neck. "What good is sorry to me?"

A strangled cry tore from her lips as air fled her lungs. Panic surged, her body thrashing against his grip, but his strength was unyielding.

For the first time, she felt it-Tristan's intention was real. He meant to end her life.

Regret clawed at her chest. If she had known how much Eliana meant to him, she would never have dared to speak so recklessly, no matter how arrogant she felt at the time.

She had truly believed Eliana was just another woman like her, scheming for a chance to slip into Tristan's bed.

But reality cut with the bite of jagged ice. Eliana wasn't chasing after him at all-he was the one chasing her.She was the girl he valued, the one he had chosen.

And now... any chance Anaya had was gone. All that remained was the bitter weight of regret.