Page 8 of Entangled with the Enemy

He nods, a touch of pride in his expression. "Yes, yes, still there. Though I must say, it’s not the same without your father around. He was a real visionary."

I smile, a wave of fond memories washing over me. "He sure was. I learned a lot from him."

John leans in conspiratorially. "He was a smart man. He did what he had to do to protect his legacy."

A knot forms in my stomach at the cryptic comment. "What do you mean?"

"Selling the company when he did... it was a tough decision, but he saw the writing on the wall. He knew the market was changing and wanted to ensure you and your mother were taken care of."

"But... Holden Bowers' takeover was hostile. It nearly destroyed my parents," I say, confusion lacing my voice.

John shakes his head. "That’s not entirely true. Your father knew about the financial difficulties Archer Systems was facing. He had no choice but to sell. Holden's offer was the best way to avoid bankruptcy. Your father agreed to it."

I feel a cold chill run down my spine. "Are you saying my father and Holden were in agreement?"

John nods solemnly, and as his words sink in, my gaze drifts across the room to where Holden is standing, talking to another guest. He looks over, and our eyes meet. I can see the concern in his eyes, the question.

I turn back to John, forcing a tight smile. "Well, it was great seeing you," I tell him. "I should get going.”

John gives me a concerned look but nods. "Take care, Imogen."

As I walk away, my mind is a whirlwind of emotions. I feel like a fool, stewing in my resentment and anger for years without knowing the full truth. They let me believe the worst, allowed me to hold onto this bitterness, and didn't trust me enough to tell me what really happened. My father and Holden, both keeping me in the dark.

The opulent surroundings of the gala blur as I make my way through the crowd. Holden’s voice calls out behind me, but I quicken my pace, refusing to look back.

Chapter 6

Holden

My heart sinks as I watch Imogen storm away, her shoulders tense and her stride purposeful. Something is very wrong.

I excuse myself from the group I've been chatting with and rush to catch up with her. "Imogen!" I call out, my voice laced with concern.

She doesn't turn around, doesn't even break her stride as she heads straight for the valet stand.

"Imogen, wait!" I reach out and gently grab her arm, pulling her to face me.

The look in her eyes is like a punch to the gut. Her lips are pressed into a tight line, but I can see the slight tremble in her chin, the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes.

"You knew." Her voice is quiet but laced with venom. "You and my father... you both knew the truth about Archer Systems, and you never told me."

My throat constricts as understanding washes over me. Someone must have let it slip—the real story behind the buyout, the deal my lawyers had struck with her father to protect the family's interests.

"Imogen, let me explain—"

"Explain what?" She cuts me off, her tone rising with pent-up emotion. "That you let me believe the worst for all these years? That you watched me resent you, hate you, for something that wasn't even true?"

I open my mouth, but she barrels on, the words tumbling out in a torrent of hurt and frustration.

"You and my father worked together to keep me in the dark. And you let me look like a fool to everyone in the business world! I’ve spent years telling the story of how I persevered after a hostile takeover, only to find out it was all a lie."

She takes a shaky breath, her eyes flashing with anger. "Do you have any idea how humiliating that is? To find out that so many people knew the truth, and they just let me go on and on, thinking I was some kind of resilient hero? When in reality, it was all orchestrated to protect our family's reputation."

Her voice cracks on the last word, the first glimmering tear spilling over to trace a path down her flushed cheek. The sight twists like a knife in my gut.

"Imogen..." I reach for her, but she flinches back, wrapping her arms around herself in a protective embrace.

"Don't," she whispers, her gaze boring into me with an intensity that steals my breath. "Just... don't."

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