Page 57 of Vacation with the Ice Queen

"God, no." Serena shook her head, remembering the awkward board meeting that had precipitated her island exile. "That would have been tantamount to admitting defeat. I called it a 'focused planning period to develop comprehensive counter-measures.'"

"Of course you did," Lila said, her laughter mingling with the sound of waves. "Corporate speak for 'I need a minute to breathe.'"

They reached a natural outcropping of rocks, smoothed by centuries of tides. Lila climbed onto a flat surface and offered her hand. Serena took it, allowing herself to be guided up onto the sun-warmed stone. They settled side by side, legs stretched toward the ocean, shoulders almost touching.

"It started at a charity gala," Serena found herself saying, the words forming before she'd fully decided to share them. "One of those black-tie events where Manhattan's elite pat themselves on the back for writing tax-deductible checks while drinking twelve-thousand-dollar champagne."

Lila listened without interruption, her attention complete and focused in a way few people ever offered.

"Vivienne approached me during cocktails. Said she admired what Frost Innovations had done for financial security systems and wanted to discuss potential applications for the fashion industry." Serena traced a pattern in the stone with one finger, recalling the moment with perfect clarity. "I was skeptical at first. Fashion isn't exactly known for its technological innovation."

"But she convinced you," Lila prompted gently when Serena paused.

"She was... compelling. Brilliant in her own field. Passionate about protecting customer data." The memory still stung with the particular pain of misplaced trust. "We talked until the eventstaff started breaking down tables. Two CEOs skipping dinner to discuss database architecture and encryption protocols."

Serena looked out at the horizon, feeling the familiar tension creeping up her neck. "I should have recognized it for what it was: a fishing expedition masked as genuine interest. But she asked the right questions. Technical questions most fashion executives wouldn't know to ask."

"You respected her," Lila observed.

"Yes." The admission felt like giving something away. "I did. We scheduled a proper meeting the following week, which led to a formal collaboration agreement, confidentiality provisions, the works."

A wave crashed against the rocks below them, sending up a fine spray that caught the sunlight. Serena wiped a droplet from her arm, buying time to order her thoughts.

"For six months, we worked closely. My team designed a custom security system for her company's expanding e-commerce platform. We shared proprietary information under strict protocols. I attended her runway shows; she visited our R&D facility." Serena shook her head, still amazed at her own blindness. "I actually thought we were friends."

Lila's hand covered hers on the warm stone, a simple gesture of support that anchored Serena to the present even as she revisited the past.

"What happened?" Lila asked.

"She stole everything. Not by hacking or external attacks; those we can defend against. She did it through people." The betrayal still burned, even here, thousands of miles from Manhattan. "She systematically identified my key engineers and offered them ridiculously inflated salaries to jump ship. They took our code, our architecture, and our research with them."

"That's awful," Lila said softly. "And illegal, surely?"

"In theory. In practice, it's remarkably difficult to prove which lines of code originated where when your own former employees helped blur those lines. Non-competes are notoriously hard to enforce, and Vivienne's lawyers are every bit as cutthroat as she is."

Serena hadn't realized how tightly she was clenching her jaw until Lila's fingers gently touched her cheek, a silent reminder to release the tension.

"Three days before our joint product launch, she announced Blackwood's proprietary security system. She used our own technology to secure an exclusive contract with the Fashion Retailers Alliance before we could even respond."

"And the board blamed you," Lila guessed, connecting dots Serena hadn't explicitly drawn.

"Some did. Others just questioned my judgment. After all, I was the one who pushed for the collaboration. I was the one who granted access to our systems." Serena let out a dry, humorless laugh. "The worst part was the press narrative. Vivienne played it perfectly—the fashion visionary disrupting tech's old guard. I came across as a dinosaur who didn't see the meteor coming."

"That's not fair," Lila protested.

"Fair has nothing to do with business," Serena replied automatically, then paused, reconsidering. "Though in this case, you're right. It wasn't fair. It was a deliberate betrayal masked as a business strategy."

They sat in silence for a moment, the rhythm of waves filling the space between words. Serena waited for the familiar surge of anger that usually accompanied thoughts of Vivienne, but something different happened instead. With each word shared, the story seemed to lose some of its power over her.

"What bothers you most about it?" Lila asked, her question cutting through layers of corporate maneuvering to something more personal.

Serena considered this, allowing herself the luxury of honest self-examination that she rarely permitted in New York. "That I didn't see it coming. That I mistook calculated manipulation for genuine connection."

The parallel to her failed marriage wasn't lost on her, though she left that comparison unspoken.

"Or maybe what really bothers me is that I let my guard down at all," she continued, following the thought to its logical conclusion. "Professional relationships should remain professional. The moment I considered Vivienne a friend rather than a business associate, I created a vulnerability she exploited."

Lila was quiet for a long moment, her eyes on the distant horizon. "That's one interpretation," she said finally. "Another might be that trust itself isn't the problem. Choosing who to trust is."

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