Tara's POV

I stared at the blank screen, wondering where to begin my writing assignment. The entire room was buzzing with the ringing noises of busied phones, the constant clatter of keyboards, and the low murmur of important conversations. Sunlight streamed through the glass panes, casting sharp silhouettes of shade that illuminated the room's walls and the chaotic type of energy that permeated through the space. I sat my desk, fingers flying across the keyboard as I raced to meet my deadline, my mind focusing constantly on the undercurrent of competition that plagued the workplace.

Across the room, Harper Knox leaned against the edge of her desk, eyes lock on mined with a mixture of curiosity and a thin veil of rivalry. I rolled my eyes but the pressure only served to remind me how cutthroat of a situation I found myself in, where the story of the untouchable bad boy was a battleground for success; and each scoop a treasure that could be sunken into and won out. I could feel her cold blue eyes prying into mine from the corner of my vision, as if trying to snuff out my own sense of determination to win. But I couldn't give up, two could play at this game.

Albeit that arrogant asshole completely ruined my mood yesterday, or whatever was left of it, I was determined to use this investigation as a means for my breakthrough, a chance to shine, to curve out my path's future into my own hands. But Simone Caldwell and Harper wouldn't make this easy for me, I knew it, ready to pounce and discredit any shred of hard work I would create the second they had the chance. Their calculating misdemeanour threatened to bury me alive in the midst of uncertainty. This is my chance to prove to Christa and the team, that I deserve this promotion. I knew my future in journalism was at stake.

As I walked down the hall to my office, I could feel the weight of Harper's cold eagle gaze bearing into mine. She standing by the elevator, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the edge of her phone screen. Harper Knox's green eyes suddenly looked up to meet mine, a smug smile starting to play on her lips. "Morning, Tara," she said, her tone dropping with such falsity one could almost mistake it for sweetness. I forced a polite nod in return, but inside, my entire body was bristling. I knew that Harper had been gunning for my position ever since she first entered Writer's Inc, and knowing her character... well, it wouldn't be the first time she has tried using dirty tactics to get what she wants.

With Alisha off at work, I could focus on the task at hand. But as I reached my office door, my day took a turn for the worse. Who could it be but enemy #2: Simone Caldwell, and her annoyingly irritating laugh. She was lounging by the water cooler, holding court with a group of junior writers who were hanging on to her every word. It was precisely Caldwell's seductive charm that was her greatest weapon, but I knew better than to fall for her sassy little acts. *Sk#nk alert* I thought disgustedly. "Hey, Tara," she called out, flashing my a sly grin that didn't reach her eyes. "Heard you had a bit of a spat with Christa yesterday. Everything alright?" I could sense the underpinned mockery in her tone, and it took all of my self-control not to snap back the first few slurs I had at the back of my mind. Instead, I simply replied, "Just another day in paradise, Simone."

Finally reaching the sanctuary of my office, only to find Ellie Fraser waiting for me inside. She was perched on the edge of my desk, flipping through one of the manuscripts that had landed on my drawer. "Nice work, Tara," she said without giving me a single glance. "Do you not think that it is all kind of, well... predictable?" She asked mockingly. It would be a lie to say that her bluntness didn't hurt. We used to be close, before she cunningly stabbed me in the back to get ahead. Now, all our interactions were marred by equal resentment and hatred for each other, a reminder of the betrayal. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my quivering voice. "What is it you want, Ellie?" She looked up then, her eyes betraying nothing but a cold and calculating once-over. "Just checking in to see how your ability level is doing. Wouldn't want you to get too comfortable."

But before I could respond, my phone buzzed on the desk. I glanced and noticed a message from our editor-in-chief, Christa.  The subject line read: "Urgent: Meeting in 10 minutes."  Great. Just what I needed to get the day started. Christa wasn't my enemy, but his favouritism towards Ellie wasn't a secret either. Every single time I walked into her office, it was like entering a battlefield, with my every word and action under scrutiny. Gathering my thoughts, I gritted my teeth, ironing myself for the challenges ahead. As I headed towards the meeting room, there was a feeling I couldn't shake that warned me, today would be extraordinarily tough.

When I entered the conference room, Rob and Vicky were already there, chatting animatedly with Christa. Taking a seat at the far end of the table, I had no choice but to pretend like my unwavering confidence was eternally plastered on my composure; despite the unease gnawing inside of me. As usual, Christa Martin barely acknowledged my presence, too engaged in a discussion about the latest market trends. "Tara, what do you think?" she suddenly asked, her deep amber gaze piercing through mine. I had only then realised I missed the beginning of the conversation, but at this point I couldn't afford to show any weakness. "In my opinion I think we should concentrate on deepening our present narratives rather than spreading our resources too thin," I replied worriedly, hoping my vague answer would be enough to suffice.

The rest of the meeting passed by in a blur of strategic plans and competitive analysis. There was nothing new that took place, Ellie and Rob were doing their best to sneakily undermine my suggestions at every turn, their thinly veiled barbs becoming sharper with each exchange. I tried to counter as best I could, but their pre-preparation was clear from the echoing start. Vicky joined us halfway through, her presence adding another layer of tension to the already harrowing experience. On most points she sided with Ellie's quips, their united front a stark reminder of how fickle an alliance can be. It only served to reinforce my inability to trust those outside my immediate circle. By the time Christa drew the meeting to a close, I felt incredibly drained. Leaving the room, I caught Ellie's satisfied little crooked smirk from the corner of my eyes. It left my blood boiling to the point where I  convinced myself that this would be a war I would not lose. 

As I returned to my office, my mind whirled with thoughts from the meeting. Vicky's relentless criticisms, Rob's mockeries, and Ellie's cold-hearted betrayal swirled together, making it difficult to concentrate as I breathed a sigh of frustration. Sinking into my chair, I had to regain my coll facade of composure. The full weight of their vendetta was draining, but I wouldn't let them see me falter. Pulling out my notebook, I knew my next moves would have to be carefully planned out, in a series of battle moves. Vicky, Ellie, and Rob were playing their own game, one that I had to be ready for. Despite the exhaustion, I felt a wave of determination rise through me like the wings of a phoenix reborn. They would not win so easily.

My phone buzzed again, this time from my best friend and confidante: Alisha. 

"Lunch at our usual spot?"

Alisha had always been my rock in the midst of this chaotic world, with her unwavering support. I texted back:

"Absolutely."

As I headed out, I caught a glimpse of Rob and Vicky snickering through the break room. Their conspiratorial glances did nothing but make me purse my lips resolvedly. This lunch with Alisha was necessary, not just because of the comfort of her presence but to strategise. If anyone could help me navigate this most treacherous terrain, it was her.

At the café, Alisha was already seated, her warm smile a stark dichotomy to the electric tension I had left behind. "You look like you've been through the wringer," she said, concern etching on her features. I sighed, taking a seat across from her. "You literally have no idea. Rob, Vicky, and Ellie - they're all gunning for me." Alisha listened intently as I recounted this morning's events. Her eyes narrowed in response, nodding thoughtfully. "You have to be 2 steps ahead, Tara. Document everything, stay professional, and don't let them get to you." She gave sound advice, as always.  With a clearer mind and a renewed sense of focus, I felt ready to face whatever came next.

I was determined to face this game on, eyes clear, steadied body, and sharp focus. After lunch, I headed back to the office, but not before stopping by the archives. If I had to dig up Elias Carlyle's past, I would need all the information I could gather. The archives were a literal treasure chest woven of old articles and unpublished reports. Elias Carlyle, the disreputable 'bad boy' with a mysterious past, had always interested me. Despite the arrogant pr*ck's behaviour, my project to investigate him had to come first. It was more than a professional endeavour; it was personal. His name had been in contact with some of the most scandalous pieces of news in recent years. As I sifted through these old documents, I could feel the pieces of the puzzle slowly form together.

Back at my desk, I spread out all the clippings and notes, organising them into a coherent timeline. Elias Carlyle seemingly had a checkered past as puzzling as a chessboard, each and every move more calculated than the last. From his days as a rebellious teenager to that of him gallavanting across town like some misunderstood genius, there was much to unravel. I knew my investigation into Elias was bound to stir the pot even more with my colleagues, especially Ellie and Vicky, who had a common penchant for aggrandisement. She would love nothing more than to twist my findings to her advantage. But I was determined to stay one step ahead of the game, to present the truth as it was, untainted by their camaraderie. 

As the afternoon continued, I had received an unexpected email from the devil himself: Elias Carlyle. The subject line read: 

"We Need To Talk"

My heart started pounding as I precociously opened it, overlooking the brief message. He was suggesting a meeting, a chance to set the record straight about his past. A golden opportunity on my part, but just as well a walking into the lion's den.  His reputation was well-known - charming, dangerous, and always calculated. If I was going to affront him, I needed to be prepared. With a deep breath, I replied:

"Alright, I think I can schedule a meeting tomorrow."

This game was about to get a lot more interesting...

*********************************************************

Elias's POV

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the cityscape as I sat in my dimly lit office. The email notification pinged on my laptop, and I leaned forward, my curiosity officially piqued. An email from Tara Huntington, the wannabe journalist who I had run into yesterday. Her reputation for tenacity was well-known, and I couldn't help but respect her persistence. 

"Alright, I think I can schedule a meeting tomorrow."

The email read, confirming our meeting. A crooked smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. I knew she wouldn't be able to resist me. A girl who had no idea what she was walking into. This wouldn't be just an opportunity for her to uncover the truth; it was a chance for me to set the stage for my next move.

As I closed the laptop, I leaned back in my chair, lost in thought. Tara's investigation into my life seemed inevitable; I had left too many breadcrumbs for any serious journalist to ignore. But this meeting would be my 'chance to control the narrative' as Davis likes to say. I needed to be careful, to reveal just enough to keep her interested but not enough for her to get the drop on me. I glanced impudently at the old photograph on my desk -- a younger version of me, standing with the legend himself, Giovanni Ricci, the man who had taught me the art of strategy. His lessons kept echoing in my mind: "Always be two steps ahead, Elias."

*****
The following day arrived quickly, and I found myself waiting inside a secluded café, a perfect spot for a little clandestine meeting. The place was almost a desert, except for a few patrons engrossed in their own worlds. I sipped on my espresso, the rich yet bitter taste grounding me as I gazed across the room. When Tara walked in, her eyes immediately found mine. I could see the determination that encompassed her stride, and the curiosity in her gaze. She was clearly here for answers, and I was fully ready to give them - on my terms of course. As she approached, I stood up, extending a hand. "Ms. Huntington," I greeted smoothly. "Shall we begin?"

A/N

How do you think the meeting will go?
What secrets does Elias hide?