Chapter 4:The Battle Begins

Belle Shane POV

From the darkened corner across the street, Belle watched them.

Her arms folded tightly against her chest, nails digging into her silk blazer.

She had been following Marcus for the past hour.

Of course, she told herself it wasn’t stalking …it was surveillance. Strategic. Tactical.

She needed to know what her reckless brother was planning. Especially now.

Marcus Shane, the perfect, untouchable CEO, lowering himself to mingle with an intern?

Belle’s eyes narrowed, her icy blue gaze locked on the two of them.

She watched the way Marcus leaned in just a little too close when Ethan spoke.

The way he smiled … really smiled…something he barely did even with her.

The way Ethan blushed, awkward and sweet like a stupid lamb standing too close to a wolf’s teeth.

It made Belle’s stomach twist in a way she despised.

Pathetic, she thought.

He’s already wrapping you around his little finger, Fall-boy.

Marcus finally turned, strolling back to his car with a smug satisfaction in his step.

Belle didn’t move from her spot until he was gone, leaving Ethan standing at his door, looking a little lost.

Looking a little… hopeful.

Belle’s fingers itched.

It was almost cute, if it wasn’t so dangerous.

“Foolish little lamb,” she muttered under her breath.

Because she knew Marcus better than anyone.

She knew what he could do.

And if Ethan thought he could simply dance between them without consequences…

He had another thing coming.

Belle stepped back into the shadows, a smirk curling her blood-red lips.

Soon, Fall-boy, she thought, you’ll realize this isn’t a friendship. It’s a battlefield.

And on a battlefield, she never lost.

Belle stalked down the alley, heels clicking against the pavement like ticking bombs.

She pulled out her phone — sleek, black, encrypted — and tapped a name.

It rang once before a voice answered. Trembling. Always trembling.

“Yes, Miss Shane?”

“I need you to gather everything you can on Ethan Wilson. Background, family, finances, friends. And I mean everything.”

Her voice was calm, smooth — but the threat beneath it was sharp enough to cut steel.

“Y-yes ma’am. Right away.”

She hung up without another word.

Belle didn’t need loyalty.

She didn’t need friendship.

She needed control.

And if Marcus thought he could swoop in, flash that charming, snake-like smile, and claim something she had her eyes on…

He was wrong.

Dead wrong.

Belle paused at the corner of the street, glancing one last time toward Ethan’s window.

The lights inside flickered as the boy — no, the pawn — moved about, oblivious to the war brewing over his head.

Cute, she thought.

Innocent. Soft. Breakable.

Perfect.

Belle’s red lips twisted into a cruel smile.

She could get closer. Easily. Ethan was naive, trusting. The type to hold open a door for a stranger and believe that every smile was genuine.

She could step in.

A mentor.

A friend.

Maybe something more, she mused with a dangerous glint in her eye.

After all, what better way to win a war than to take your opponent’s prize right from under his nose?

Belle turned and disappeared into the night, her mind already spinning with possibilities.

Tomorrow, she decided, she would “coincidentally” bump into Ethan.

Maybe offer him some “advice.” Maybe “accidentally” touch his hand.

Maybe…

Maybe she’d watch Marcus’s carefully built world start to crumble.

And she would be the one smiling when it all burned down.

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