First Rule: Don't Fall For The Enemy

CHAPTER 25

MIRA’S POV

The morning news was brutal. I sat on my couch, coffee growing cold in my hands, watching my life disintegrate on live television.

"—scandal continues to rock Roth Corporation as more details emerge about the alleged affair between CEO Adrian Roth and his assistant—"

The anchor's voice was professional, but I could hear the barely concealed glee underneath. Nothing sold ratings like a good sex scandal involving the rich and powerful.

"—sources within the company report that federal investigators have now launched a formal inquiry into Roth Corporation's business practices—"

My phone had been ringing non-stop since six AM. Reporters, somehow, had gotten my number. I'd stopped answering after the fifth call asking for comment on my "relationship" with Adrian.

I tried his number again. Straight to voicemail, just like the dozens of times I'd called since yesterday.

"Adrian, it's me. Please, just let me explain. This isn't what it looks like. None of this is what it looks like." My voice cracked. "Please call me back."

I hung up and immediately called the office. Margaret answered on the first ring.

"Roth Corporation, how may I—"

"Margaret, it's Elise. Is Adrian—"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hart, but Mr. Roth is unavailable."

"Margaret, please. I need to speak with him. Just for five minutes—"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Mr. Roth has asked that all calls be screened, and—" She paused, and I could hear the pity in her voice. "I'm sorry, dear, but you're on the do-not-accept list."

The words hit like a physical blow. "The do-not-accept list?"

"I'm very sorry. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No," I whispered. "No, there's nothing else."

I hung up and stared at my phone, feeling completely alone. Adrian had cut me off completely. No calls, no messages, no contact at all.

The TV droned on, each report worse than the last.

"—leaked security footage shows the violent confrontation that started this scandal—"

They played the café footage again, this time with expert commentary analyzing every gesture, every expression. I watched myself cringe as some behavioral analyst dissected my body language.

"—note how she positions herself between the two men, suggesting a long-standing relationship with both parties—"

"That's not—" I started to protest to my empty apartment, then stopped. What was the point?

My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: This is what happens when you cross the wrong people. You should have stayed focused. - J

Jesse. Even after everything, he was still playing games.

I called him immediately. "Where the hell are you?"

"Watching the news. You look good on camera."

"This is insane, Jesse. You've destroyed both our careers—"

"Have I? Or have I finally given the investigation the push it needed?"

"By turning us into a tabloid scandal?" I was pacing again, unable to sit still. "By making me look like some corporate mistress?"

"By creating enough noise that the feds can't ignore Adrian Roth anymore." His voice was maddeningly calm. "Sometimes you have to break a few eggs, Mira."

"I'm the egg you broke! My reputation, my cover, everything I've worked for—"

"Was compromised the moment you fell in love with him anyway."

I stopped pacing. "So this is punishment? For choosing him over you?"

"This is justice. For your father, for everyone Adrian Roth has destroyed." He paused. "And yes, maybe a little punishment too."

"You bastard."

"I'm a bastard who gets results. Check your email in an hour."

The line went dead. I stared at my phone, wondering what fresh hell Jesse had planned now.

The next few hours were a nightmare. I tried to leave my apartment to buy groceries and was swarmed by reporters. Someone had leaked my address, probably Jesse, though I couldn't prove it.

"Ms. Hart! Can you comment on your relationship with Adrian Roth?"

"How long have you been having an affair?"

"Is it true you're cooperating with federal investigators?"

I pushed through the crowd, saying nothing, feeling like a criminal. By the time I made it back to my apartment, there were photos of me online looking disheveled and guilty.

The headlines were savage:

"ROTH'S MYSTERY MISTRESS" "CORPORATE SCANDAL ROCKS WALL STREET" "FEDERAL PROBE TARGETS BILLIONAIRE CEO"

Each one felt like a knife to my chest. Not just because of what they were saying about me, but because of what this was doing to Adrian. He didn't deserve this public humiliation, this destruction of his reputation.

At three o'clock, my email chimed. Jesse's message contained a single attachment: a document that made my blood run cold.

It was a bank transfer record. Five million dollars, moved from an offshore account to Jesse's personal banking. The transfer was dated six months ago, long before our fight, long before I'd fallen for Adrian.

"What the hell?" I whispered, scrolling through the document.

There were others. Payment authorizations, encrypted communications, financial records that painted a picture I didn't want to believe.

Jesse hadn't been working for the federal government. He'd been working for someone else entirely.

I called him immediately. "What is this?"

"Insurance."

"Insurance for what? Who paid you five million dollars, Jesse?"

"People who have a vested interest in seeing Adrian Roth fall."

"What people?"

"Does it matter? The result is the same."

"It matters to me! You've been lying about everything—the mission, the investigation, all of it!"

"Not lying. Redirecting." His voice was cold, professional. "Adrian Roth needed to go down. I found a way to make that happen."

"By using me? By destroying my life?"

"By using whatever tools were available."

The betrayal hit me like a tsunami. "You never loved me."

"I loved the idea of you. The agent who could get close to anyone, who could make anyone trust her." He paused. "I just didn't count on you actually falling for the mark."

"Who's paying you, Jesse? Who wants Adrian destroyed badly enough to pay five million dollars?"

"That's not your concern anymore."

"Like hell it isn't—"

"Your part in this is over, Mira. Go home. Go back to your real life. Forget about Adrian Roth and all the lies you told yourself about loving him."

"Jesse—"

But the line was already dead.

I sat staring at the financial documents, trying to process what I was seeing. Jesse had been paid to orchestrate this entire operation. Someone wanted Adrian destroyed, and they'd used Jesse, and me, to do it.

But who? And why?

I grabbed my laptop and started searching through the documents more carefully. Bank routing numbers, shell company registrations, encrypted communications that would take hours to decode.

As I worked, a terrible suspicion began to form. The amounts, the timing, the sophisticated nature of the financial arrangements, this wasn't just corporate espionage. This was something much bigger.