The press release went out at exactly 9:00 a.m.
It was short, direct, and completely out of character for the normally polished tone of Hartline Media. The statement made headlines within the hour:
> "Hartline Media is initiating an internal investigation into legacy transactions tied to the late founder, Jonathan Hart. This is part of a commitment to transparency and ethical business practices under the current leadership of Siena Hart."
No denial. No sugarcoating.
Just the truth—or, at least, the willingness to uncover it.
And that terrified everyone.
By 10:15 a.m., the company's phones were flooded. Board members called in, reporters emailed in droves, and a handful of investors requested urgent meetings. Some saw it as brave. Others are reckless.
But Siena didn't flinch.
She stood in the boardroom like she owned the moment. Because she did.
Alexander was by her side, quiet but alert. Every move she made now reflected not only her name but his too. The trust between them had become a lifeline.
"Why wasn't the board consulted before this statement went out?" Board member Thomas Granger asked, eyes sharp behind his glasses.
Siena didn't look away. "Because I didn't need your permission to be honest."
A few gasps.
"Excuse me?" another board member, Diana Lorne, said.
"You heard me," Siena said calmly. "This investigation isn't about appeasing stakeholders or preserving image. It's about facing our history head-on. If you have a problem with that, you're welcome to bring it up formally."
Thomas leaned forward. "You do realize what this could cost us, Siena?"
"I do," she replied, "and I also know what it could cost us if we keep pretending the past won't find us."
The room fell silent.
For once, she wasn't just the daughter of Jonathan Hart. She wasn't the woman in a marriage of convenience or the target of malicious power plays.
She was the leader.
And no one could argue with that.
---
After the meeting, Siena walked back to her office. She didn't even sit down before Alexander came in behind her, closing the door with a soft click.
"That was bold," he said.
"I'm done playing small," she replied, finally sitting and pulling off her heels. "Harold's made his move. Now I'm making mine."
He smiled, not his usual smug grin, but something real—something proud.
"You know what this means, though," he said.
She nodded. "He's going to retaliate."
---
That night, the retaliation came.
Not through lawyers or boardroom drama. But through silence. And silence, when deliberate, was the loudest threat.
Alexander received an anonymous email.
No sender. No subject.
Just a file attachment.
He clicked it.
It was a video.
Grainy. Shaky. But unmistakable.
It showed Siena's father—Jonathan Hart—meeting a man in a parking lot. Money exchanged. Documents handed over. No sound, but the implication was clear.
A secret deal.
One that looked anything but legal.
Alexander stared at the screen for a long time before calling Reeve.
"I got something," he said.
"Send it," Reeve replied immediately.
After he hung up, Alexander closed his laptop and walked to the balcony where Siena was sitting with a glass of wine.
"You're not going to like what I have to show you," he said quietly.
Siena turned. Her face was already braced for the worst.
---
Inside, he played the video for her.
Siena watched, unmoving. When it ended, she didn't speak.
She just sat there, eyes fixed on the dark screen as if staring hard enough would make the images vanish.
"You think it's real?" she finally asked.
"I do," Alexander said, his voice low. "But real doesn't always mean what it looks like."
"It looks like he was paying someone off."
"Or protecting something."
She looked at him. "Why are you still here, Alex?"
"What do you mean?"
"I dragged you into this. You didn't sign up for all this legacy baggage. If you want to—"
"Stop."
He knelt in front of her and took her hands.
"You don't scare me, Siena. Your past doesn't scare me. This is our fight now. And we finish it together."
She searched his eyes, looking for hesitation.
There was none.
---
The next day, Siena received a visit from someone she hadn't seen in years—Gregory Lane, her father's old legal advisor.
He looked older. Grayer. More tired.
"I saw the press release," he said, sitting stiffly in the chair opposite her.
"Then you know why you're here," she replied.
"I came to tell you… your father wasn't perfect. But he wasn't corrupt."
Siena narrowed her eyes. "Then what was he doing in that video?"
Gregory sighed, rubbing his temple. "That man—his name is Curtis Vale. Ex-financier. He used to work with Harold. Your father met him when he realized something was off with the proposed merger."
"So the meeting was…?"
"A bribe. But not your father paying it—Curtis was trying to pay him to stay quiet. Your father took the documents, recorded the meeting, and then… turned the evidence over to his lawyer."
"Why didn't anyone do anything?"
"Because three days later, Jonathan died in a car crash."
The room froze.
Siena's mouth parted. "Are you saying…?"
"I'm saying the accident wasn't investigated thoroughly enough. And someone wanted it that way."
---
Siena walked out of the office in a daze.
Her father had tried to do the right thing.
He'd stood up to Harold. Tried to expose him.
And now he was gone.
She found Alexander in the hall, waiting.
"I need you to call Reeve," she said. "We need to reopen my father's case. Formally."
He nodded without hesitation.
And that was the moment Siena felt it.
Not fear.
Not grief.
But fire.
For the first time, she truly understood the weight of her father's silence—and the price he paid to protect the truth.
And she refused to pay that price again.