The lights inside Damien's private office were dim, casting long shadows across the sleek glass table as Zhen leaned forward, resting his forearms on the polished surface.
"This is the best chance we'll get," he said quietly.
Damien didn't speak right away. He was reviewing the latest report from Mira—Qin's black PR campaign was more aggressive than they'd expected. The timing, the narrative control, the subtle digs at Celeste's ethics—it all painted a carefully coordinated smear campaign meant to erode Liyana's influence before the engagement was fully cemented in the public eye.
Zhen's voice cut through the silence. "I've traced the IP addresses used for the scheduled articles. There's a pattern. The server logs match locations around Qin's usual haunts—her gym, the photography studio she frequents, even her assistant's apartment. She's confident. Sloppy."
Damien leaned back in his chair, his jaw tight. "She's not afraid because she thinks I still see her as harmless. Like some bitter ex with too much pride and nothing to lose."
"She's banking on that," Zhen agreed. "But she doesn't know we're not here to confront her."
Damien's gaze darkened. "We're here to finish this."
By midday, their plan was in motion.
Zhen reached out through one of his many aliases and sent a whisper into the same shady PR circles Qin had used—a subtle signal, offering "additional damaging content" about Liyana for a price.
He wanted to see if she'd bite again.
Sure enough, within hours, a burner email responded. The message was encrypted but familiar in tone—someone who believed they had the upper hand.
"She's going to pay for what she thinks is the final nail in the coffin," Zhen told Damien as they monitored the digital thread. "This time, the fake tip includes a planted document—one only someone from within the campaign would recognize as a trap."
"And when she verifies it?" Damien asked.
"She'll respond to schedule the drop. And we'll trace her payment. The server will log her exact location at the time."
"And the moment she sends it," Damien added, "our legal team files for defamation, cyber harassment, and evidence tampering."
Zhen smirked. "Exactly. But we let it leak first."
Damien raised an eyebrow.
Zhen continued, "We let the media get a whiff—just enough to suggest someone's been funding a smear campaign against Celeste. Nothing too obvious, but enough to bait interest. By the time they dig, we'll have her red-handed. The story will flip overnight. She'll be exposed."
Meanwhile, at Celeste's headquarters, Liyana met with Mira in the executive lounge. Damien hadn't told her all the details yet—only that they were "handling it," which annoyed her. She didn't like being kept out of the loop when she was the one being targeted.
Mira, sensing her mood, offered reassurance. "Trust me, he's not keeping secrets. He's just… giving you space to breathe."
Liyana arched a brow. "And what do I do with all this breathing room?"
Mira smiled faintly. "You get ready for your engagement shoot. He wants you to shine while he's busy burying Qin."
Liyana stared at her for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Fine. But after this is done, I'm digging her grave myself. Metaphorically."
"Metaphorically," Mira echoed with a knowing grin.
That night, as the city glittered outside Damien's penthouse, a small red light blinked on Zhen's laptop.
"She bit," he said.
Damien walked over, eyes narrowing as Zhen opened the data trace. There it was—the location signature, the timestamp, the confirmed account used in the payment. Qin Xieren had fallen for it completely. Her name wouldn't appear directly, but the string of actions tied back to her assistant and digital team would be enough to make the connection undeniable.
"She'll try to delete the logs once she senses something's wrong," Zhen warned.
"We'll move before she can," Damien replied.
He turned to face the skyline, his reflection staring back at him in the glass. The moon hung high over the Lu empire, and somewhere far below, Qin was still clinging to her illusion of control.
It was about to shatter.