Chapter 3

ESSEN POV

Essen King stormed into his office, the sharpness in his eyes told a story one of controlled fury.

The doors had barely shut before his deep voice sliced through the silence.

"How the hell did this get out?"

His personal assistant, Samuel Cole, stood near the desk, tablet in hand, already bracing for impact. Unlike most employees who trembled in Essen’s presence, Samuel had spent five years under his command. He knew how to handle the storm.

"The media got wind of it before we could contain the video," Samuel said, voice steady but cautious. "Director Pella made sure of that. He sent out anonymous tips to several journalists, exaggerating his so-called ‘mistreatment.’ By the time we got the reports, the press had already latched onto the story."

Essen exhaled sharply, running a hand through his jet-black hair. "Pathetic."

He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the city skyline of Acrocs. Down below, the world moved on, oblivious to the battle he fought in boardrooms and on the front pages.

Samuel took a step closer. "We've already controlled most of the damage. The press conference worked in our favor. Investors saw you taking a firm stance, and stock prices are stable. The only loose end left is Director Pella himself."

Essen turned, his icy gaze locking onto his assistant. "Then cut it."

Samuel nodded. "I'll draft the official termination letter now."

"Not just that." Essen’s voice dropped, dangerously calm. "Send the legal notice. He signed a non-compete clause and an image protection contract. That means he owes King Enterprises a million dollars for tarnishing our reputation."

Samuel hesitated for the first time. "Sir, given his current financial state…"

"I don’t give a damn about his financial state," Essen interrupted. "He tried to use my name to gain sympathy. Now he’ll learn that actions have consequences."

Samuel didn’t argue. He simply nodded and tapped on his tablet.

Essen walked around his desk and sat down, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit. His anger had not simmered, but it was now refined—directed at the right target.

What an unlucky man!

"Make sure the legal team sends it to his house, not his office. I want him to read it the moment he steps through his front door."

"Understood."

Silence settled between them, but not for long.

“But he actually did it, by the way. Or at least tried to kill himself,” Samuel said.

“Unsuccessful?”

“Barely. The paramedics got to him in time.”

A flicker of something crossed Essen’s face, but he didn’t acknowledge it.

Samuel cleared his throat. "Would you like me to prepare a follow-up press release?"

Essen leaned back in his chair, eyes closing for a brief moment before opening again. "No. Let them imagine whatever they want. I don't care. But let them know what happens when someone crosses me."

Samuel didn’t need further instructions. He exited the office, phone in hand, already making the necessary calls.

Essen sat there for a moment longer, fingers tapping against the desk.

He forgot something.

Then, without another word, he reached for his phone and dialed Samuel’s number.

"Make sure Director Pella doesn’t get another job in Acrocs."

“Understood.”

Essen spent the next hours working and signing contracts. He was so busy into it when his phone buzzed on his desk.

A notification.

He ignored it at first, focusing on the financial reports in front of him. But the vibration came again.

He knew it couldn't be Samuel. The man knew not to call him unnecessarily.

He ignored it until he heard a ding again.

With a sigh, he picked up his phone and unlocked it ready to shout at the sender.

But it was a video from an unknown number.

He hesitated. Something about it felt off. Nobody knew his personal number.

His grip tightened as he debated whether to open it or not. But his curiosity won.

The screen flickered to life. The footage was grainy, captured from a distance.

A car. A very familiar one.

His brows drew together.

The camera zoomed in on her.

She was sitting in the driver’s seat, her innocence feature, unaware that she was being recorded.

Catalina Rhodes.

His wife.

Essen’s breath stilled.

Then, he saw the caption attached with the video.

“Who is she to you?”

A slow, creeping sensation crawled up his spine.

The words weren’t a simple question. They were more than that. A threat.

Because nobody was supposed to ever linked him with Catalina.

Essen replayed the video, his fist tightened every second. It wasn’t just a random clip. Someone had followed her. Filmed her. And sent it directly to him.

To Essen King.

His jaw tightened.

His fingers hovered over his screen, ready to call Samuel. But then he stopped. He was actually unsure of what to do.

He needed more information.

His mind raced through the possibilities. The timing. The intent. The only people who should know about Catalina were their parents. Their contract dictated hundred percent secrecy.

And yet, someone had found her. Targeted her.

Frowning, he tapped the video open again.

Essen leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the desk. A muscle in Essen’s jaw twitched. No one was supposed to know.

Yet someone did.

And they were watching her.

Essen didn’t hesitate.

He dialed her number, pressing the phone to his ear.

One ring. Two. Three.

No answer.

His grip tightened. He called again.

Still nothing.

A sharp breath left his lips. Catalina wasn’t the type to ignore calls, especially not his.

He shot up from his chair, grabbing his coat in one swift motion. “Samuel.”

Samuel barely had time to stand before Essen was already moving past him.

“Sir?”

“Cancel my meetings.” Essen’s voice was sharp, controlled, but there was an underlying urgency. “Find out where Catalina is. Now.”

Samuel frowned but nodded, immediately pulling out his phone.

Essen strode out of his office, his mind racing. The video wasn’t just a warning. It was a message.

Whoever sent it wanted him to react.

Well, they got what they wanted.

His driver was already waiting outside, as if sensing the storm brewing in his expression.

“Where to, sir?”

“Home. Now.”

The car pulled into the street, the city blurring past, but Essen barely noticed.

His fingers tapped against his thigh, a rare display of restlessness. He wasn’t the type to panic. He thrived in control.

Catalina was his responsibility.

And if something had happened to her—

No.

He refused to let that thought settle.

He dialed her number one more time.

Still no answer.

His jaw clenched.

Whoever was behind this would regret it.

Deeply.

But firstly, how the fuck did they find out?