His Number Was Nine

Elise Hartman.

The wine glass feels cold against my palm. Ice cold. A perfect counterpoint to the heat rising in my chest. Across the table, Kaelen Sterling smiles, but it doesn't touch his eyes. His grin is a weapon, sharp and precise, aimed directly at me.

“A bold move, Hartman,” he says, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the restaurant’s polite murmur. “Acquiring Aerocorp right from under my nose. Your father would be proud. Or horrified. It’s a coin toss, really.”

I take a slow sip of Chardonnay, letting the insult hang in the air between us. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Beside me, Julian shifts in his seat, his hand landing on my thigh in a gesture that’s meant to look supportive. It feels possessive. Proprietary.

“Don’t listen to him, darling,” Julian murmurs, his voice smooth as silk. He leans in, his cologne filling my senses. “He’s just bitter he lost. You played it perfectly. We played it perfectly.”

We. As if he was the one who spent three sleepless nights running projections and leveraging a forgotten clause in a decade old contract. He was the one who told me it was too risky. I look at Julian, my perfect, doting boyfriend, the handsome face of my company’s executive board, and I force a smile.

“Kaelen is just being Kaelen,” I say, my voice steady. I turn my gaze back to my rival. “It wasn’t personal, Sterling. It was just good business. You of all people should understand that.”

“Oh, I understand it,” Kaelen leans forward, his dark eyes intense. “What I don’t understand is why you’d trust this lapdog with the details.” He flicks his gaze to Julian, a flicker of pure contempt in his expression. “I heard he almost fumbled the final wire transfer.”

Julian’s grip on my leg tightens. “Now listen here, Sterling…”

I place my hand over Julian’s, a silent command to stand down. “The transfer went through. The company is mine. Those are the only details that matter.”

This is my life. A constant chess match played on a global scale. Hartman Industries was my father’s legacy, a respectable but stagnant tech firm. I inherited it and turned it into an empire. I made it breathe fire. And in doing so, I painted a target on my back for men like Kaelen Sterling, CEO of Sterling Dynamics, the only man whose ambition matches my own. He’s been a thorn in my side for five years, always pushing, always challenging. I hate him for it. I also know he’s made me sharper than I ever thought I could be.

Julian, on the other hand, is supposed to be my safe harbor. My partner. The one who understands the pressure. But lately, his reassurances feel like platitudes, his compliments like carefully constructed lines designed to manage me.

“Well, a toast then,” Kaelen says, raising his glass. “To Elise Hartman. The queen of a kingdom she didn’t build, but one she will certainly burn to the ground.”

“That’s enough,” Julian says, his voice rising. He stands up abruptly, the chair scraping against the polished floor. “We’re leaving.”

He pulls me up by the arm, his grip surprisingly firm. He throws a few bills on the table and steers me towards the exit without a backward glance. I look over my shoulder one last time. Kaelen hasn’t moved. He just watches me, his expression unreadable, and lifts his glass in a silent, mocking salute.

The drive back to my penthouse is thick with a tense silence. The city lights blur into long streaks of color as Julian navigates the late night traffic. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know why you let him talk to you like that,” he finally says, his jaw tight.

“I can handle Kaelen Sterling.”

“It’s not about handling him, Elise. It’s about respect. He disrespects you. He disrespects us.” He glances at me, his handsome face a mask of concern. “It makes you look weak.”

My blood runs cold. “Weak? I just closed the biggest acquisition in my company’s history. There is nothing weak about me, Julian.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, instantly backtracking. He reaches over, stroking my hair. “I just worry about you. The stress. The pressure. You carry this whole empire on your shoulders. You don’t have to, you know. I’m here to help you carry it.”

His words are perfect. Exactly what a supportive partner would say. But they feel hollow. Rehearsed. Sometimes, in the quiet of my sprawling, empty apartment, I feel a loneliness so profound it physically hurts. I thought Julian filled that void, but more and more, I feel like I’m just playing a part. The powerful CEO with the perfect life and the perfect boyfriend.

“I know,” I say, leaning my head against the cool glass of the window. “I appreciate it.”

He seems satisfied with that answer, turning his attention back to the road and pulling out his phone. He starts tapping out a message with one thumb, the car weaving slightly in the lane.

“Julian, watch the road.”

“It’s fine, darling. It’s just a quick message to the board, letting them know the deal is officially done. Taking credit for my hard work,” he says with a wink. It’s a joke, but it doesn’t land right. It feels too close to the truth.

I close my eyes. I’m tired. Tired of the fight, tired of the act. Tired of feeling like I’m the only one who sees the cracks in my perfect life.

That’s when I see them. The twin headlights, impossibly bright, coming straight for my passenger side door. They aren’t slowing down.

“Julian!” I scream, my voice raw with terror.

He looks up from his phone, his eyes wide with panic. The world explodes in a symphony of screeching tires and shattering glass. The force of the impact is violent, absolute. My head whips to the side, hitting something hard. A searing pain shoots through my body, followed by a strange, floating calm.

My last conscious thought is of Kaelen’s face. His mocking eyes. His final, silent toast.

Then, there is only darkness.