Chapter 6 - The First Strike
Rosalind Harrington made her move at exactly 9:00 a.m.
That was how she operated.
Never emotional.
Never random.
Always calculated.
She released a statement to the media.
A carefully written story.
A grieving mother concerned about her daughter.
A family tragedy.
A misunderstood inheritance dispute.
And hidden beneath every sentence was one accusation:
Gareth Cole was dangerous.
The public did not know the truth.
They only saw the image Rosalind created.
A mysterious husband.
A wealthy inheritance.
A powerful outsider.
The perfect villain.
But Rosalind made another mistake.
She forgot one thing.
I had spent my entire life preparing for people like her.
Within three hours, every claim she made began collapsing.
The financial records she thought were hidden were already copied.
The private agreements she believed were destroyed were already secured.
The witnesses she planned to use had already been contacted.
Not threatened.
Not forced.
Simply given the truth.
Because people always chose the right side when they knew which side would survive.
Rosalind arrived at my office that evening.
Alone.
That surprised me.
She stood across from my desk.
“You think you’ve won.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
Her expression changed.
“I know I have.”
She smiled slightly.
“You are exactly like your reputation.”
“And what reputation is that?”
“A man who believes fear solves everything.”
I leaned back.
“You mistake preparation for fear.”
She stepped closer.
“My daughter belongs to this family.”
“No.”
My answer was quiet.
“She belongs to herself.”
That angered her.
Because women like Rosalind understood ownership.
Not love.
Not loyalty.
Ownership.
“She will hate you when she learns everything.”
I looked at her.
“She already knows.”
For the first time, Rosalind hesitated.
“You told her?”
“Yes.”
“And she stayed?”
“Yes.”
The silence afterward was the loudest sound in the room.
Because Rosalind finally understood.
She had tried to break Samantha.
Instead, she had pushed Samantha toward the one person who would never abandon her.
Before leaving, Rosalind placed one final envelope on the desk.
“What is this?”
“Something your wife will want.”
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Richard Harrington.
Standing beside another man.
A man I recognized immediately.
Someone from my past.
Someone who should have been impossible.
My expression changed.
Rosalind noticed.
“You know him.”
I looked at the photograph.
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
I stared at the image.
Because the man beside Samantha’s father was not just an old associate.
He was the one person who knew every secret I had buried.
The man who knew why I became the Crimson Shadow.
I looked back at Rosalind.
“Where did you get this?”
She smiled.
“Now you understand.”
A pause.
“This was never just about the estate.”
She walked away.
And for the first time since Samantha was found in the snow...
I felt something I had not felt in years.
Uncertainty.
Because Rosalind Harrington had not started this war.
May you like
She had only opened the door.
The real enemy had been waiting behind it.
