Chapter 6 - The Price of MercyMaya walked slowly toward the coffee table where the manila folder lay open. She looked down at the forged signatures—the undeniable proof of the theft that had nearly destroyed her life before it even began.

For three years, she had carried the psychic scar of being labeled a thief and an incompetent designer. Every sleepless night, every moment of self-doubt in her workshop, every tear shed over empty architectural drafts traced back to this exact piece of paper.

Ethan watched her like a drowning man watching a passing ship.

“Sign the affidavit,” Ethan pleaded, his voice cracking. “Tell the prosecutor it was a misunderstanding. We can issue a joint statement. You get your vindication, I keep my company. Win-win, Maya.”

Maya looked up slowly. Her expression wasn't angry. It was terrifyingly calm.

“Win-win?” Maya repeated softly. “You stole my work, Ethan. You humiliated me in front of the entire architectural community, you told me I was worthless, and you spent three years trying to block Haven House from ever getting funded because you were terrified a woman you discarded would outbuild you.”

“Maya—”

“And now, because the walls are closing in, you come to my home—crawling behind my husband—asking for mercy?” She shook her head, a cold, bitter smile touching her lips. “You don't know what mercy is, Ethan. Mercy requires remorse. All you feel is cornered.”

Ethan’s desperate facade cracked, a flash of his old arrogance bleeding through. “You can’t do this! If I go down, I swear to God I’ll drag your reputation down with me! I’ll tell the press you slept your way into marrying Roman DeLuca just to buy this municipal contract!”

Before Ethan’s sentence fully finished, the air in the penthouse vanished.

Roman didn't raise his voice. He didn't touch him. But the look in Roman’s eyes made Ethan step back instinctively until his spine hit the glass balcony door.

“Try it,” Roman said softly, stepping closer. “Utter her name to a single reporter tomorrow morning, and I won't just seize your company, Ethan. I will personally dismantle every brick of every building bearing your name until there is nothing left of your legacy except a cautionary tale told in whispers.”

Camille clutched her chest, backing away toward the elevator. “Ethan... let’s go. It’s over.”

“It’s not over!” Ethan screamed, losing his mind. “She has to sign! She—”

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“Get out,” Roman commanded, pointing toward the open elevator doors.

Defeated, broken, and shivering with unmitigated terror, Ethan glared at Maya one last time with pure venom before stumbling backward into the elevator with Camille. The doors slid shut, sealing them away.