---- Chapter 7 Althea Roberts POV: The morning the news about Nyx broke, | wasn't in a boardroom. | was in a small, unassuming coffee shop two blocks from Essex's office. He sat across from me, stirring his black coffee, his eyes fixed on the tablet between us, watching the financial world implode in real-time. Pierce Industries stock had been delisted. Crawford and my father had been taken in for questioning. The headlines were brutal. "PIERCE'S EMPIRE OF LIES', 'THE BILLION-DOLLAR FRAUD', FROM GOLDEN COUPLE TO HANDCUFFS'. It was a complete and utter annihilation. "It's done," Essex said, his voice quiet, almost reverent. He slid the tablet across the table. The Nyx initial stock offering had opened an hour ago. Our valuation was already in the stratosphere. We were not just a success; we were a phenomenon. | looked at the numbers, the soaring green arrows, the breathless commentary from analysts. | should have felt... something. A surge of triumph. A thrill of victory. Instead, | just felt a profound, hollow quiet. The war was over. The silence that followed was deafening. ---- "Are you okay?" Essex asked, his gaze searching mine. He had this way of looking at you, a quiet intensity that made you feel like he could see every thought, every flicker of doubt. "| don't know what I'm supposed to feel," | admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "| spent so long planning this, envisioning this moment. | thought it would feel... different." "You thought revenge would be sweeter," he finished for me. | nodded. "It just feels... empty." "Maybe it was never about revenge," he suggested gently. "Maybe it was about taking back your life. You've done that. The emptiness is just the space you cleared out. Now you get to decide what to fill it with." His words hung in the air between us. He was right. For the first time since the accident, | had no enemy to fight, no strategy to execute. The future wasn't a premonition of disaster | had to avert. It was a blank page. And it was terrifying. My phone buzzed. A text from Jay. "You're not going to believe this." Attached was a link to a gossip site. The headline was salacious: 'DESPERATE HOUSEWIFE? SCORNED BRITTANY HUBER CAUGHT AT SHADY FERTILITY CLINIC." There were grainy photos of Brittany, looking frantic and ---- disguised in a scarf and large sunglasses, rushing out of a notorious, back-alley clinic known for selling unapproved and dangerous experimental drugs. "What is she doing?" | murmured, scrolling through the article. It claimed that in the fallout of the scandal, Crawford had initiated divorce proceedings, intent on cutting all ties. Brittany, stripped of her money and status, was apparently making a desperate, last-ditch play to lock him down. A baby. The one thing that had secured her position in the first place. "She's trying to run the same play twice," Essex said, looking over my shoulder. "Only this time, the board isn't buying it." It was pathetic. A sad, desperate scramble from a woman who had just lost everything. | felt a flicker of something-pity, maybe. It was quickly extinguished by the memory of her face in the hospital, the triumphant glint in her eyes. | closed the article. "It's not my problem anymore." We spent the rest of the day in a series of marathon meetings, navigating the explosion of interest in Nyx. By the time | got back to my apartment, exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. | was about to fall into bed when my building's security chief called. "Ms. Roberts," he said, his voice tense. "We have a situation. We caught someone trying to access the server room in the basement. It's... Brittany Huber." | was down in the lobby in minutes. The sight that greeted me ---- was surreal. Brittany was being held between two security guards, her designer clothes disheveled, her face a mask of furious desperation. Her eyes, when they met mine, were wild. "You!" she screeched, struggling against the guards. "This is all your fault! You ruined me!" "What were you doing in the server room, Brittany?" | asked, my voice flat. "| was taking back what's mine!" she spat. "The source code for Nyx! It's built on my project! My ideas!" The sheer delusion was breathtaking. She had so thoroughly convinced herself of her own lies that she actually believed them. "The police are on their way, Ms. Huber," the security chief said. "No!" she screamed, a raw, animal sound of pure panic. She renewed her struggles, and something fell out of her purse, skittering across the polished marble floor. It was a small, unmarked vial of clear liquid. The fertility drug from the clinic. "Locking down Crawford didn't work, so you decided to try stealing from me instead?" | asked, the pieces clicking into place. "Intellectual property theft is a federal crime, Brittany. You'll go to prison for years." Her face crumpled. The wild fury was replaced by a stark, ---- absolute terror. "No," she whispered. "Please, Althea. Don't do this. | have nothing left. Please. We're sisters." Sisters. | looked at her, truly looked at her. The golden child, the favored daughter, now just a desperate, broken woman who. had burned every bridge and blown every chance she'd ever been given. She had played a zero-sum game, believing that for her to win, | had to lose. And now, in the end, we had both lost something. She had lost her future. | had lost my sister. "It was always your choice, Brittany," | said, my voice softer than | intended. "Every step of the way. You chose this." The elevator doors chimed, and two police officers stepped out. As they cuffed my sister, her eyes locked with mine one last time. They held no hatred now. Only a vast, empty expanse of defeat. When they led her away, Essex was suddenly by my side. | hadn't even heard him arrive. He put a hand gently on my arm. "It's over now," he said. | nodded, leaning into his touch ever so slightly. The quiet in my soul was still there, but it wasn't empty anymore. It was... peaceful. "What do we do now?" | asked, looking up at him. He smiled, a small, genuine smile that transformed his serious ---- face. "Now," he said, his hand sliding from my arm to take mine. "We build." His fingers laced with mine, and for the first time, | didn't see a premonition of the future. | saw a possibility. A blank page, waiting for a new story to be written. And | wasn't afraid. Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! I'm the Female General!" by CrushReel, Adela Taylor, a noble family's daughter, disguises herself as her brother to secure their Duke title by joining the army. Despite facing obstacles, she achieves remarkable success. However, upon her triumphant return, her brother betrays her, setting off a chain of events that will test her resolve and reveal hidden truths. This captivating novel delves into themes of secrets, reincarnation, revenge, murder, and drama. 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