Chapter 227: Attack On All Fronts
Catherine’s stomach dropped. The warmth from the wine vanished instantly. The article continued below the headline, accompanied by screenshots already circulating across social media platforms.
Photographs... Design sketches... Production notes... Everything. Every designer’s nightmare. Every fashion house’s worst fear.
Catherine felt her chest tighten as she knew exactly who would bear the humiliation.
Sophia.
Months of work, months of preparation... months of anticipation.
All was exposed before the official launch.
The fashion industry was ruthless enough under normal circumstances. After a disaster like this...
Sophia would be standing at the center of the storm.
"Oh no..."
The words escaped before Catherine could stop them. Her heart sank. She knew how devastating this would be because she too faced a similar situation and she knew how humiliating it would be.
Without another second of hesitation, Catherine pressed Sophia’s contact.
The phone began to ring.
And as she listened to the dial tone, she could only hope her sister-in-law was holding up better than she feared.
When the call finally ended, Catherine lowered the phone and released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.
The knot that had formed in her chest after seeing the leaked catalogue slowly loosened.
Sophia had sounded upset, certainly. No one could experience something like that and remain unaffected.
But beneath the frustration and exhaustion, there had been something else—confidence and steadiness.
The calm certainty of someone who had anticipated disaster long before it arrived.
"This is not the first time someone has stolen my catalogue," Sophia had said with a dry laugh. "It’s just the first time someone has been stupid enough to publish it."
Catherine had nearly laughed despite herself.
"You’re taking this remarkably well."
"I’m not taking it well," Sophia had corrected. "I’m furious. But I’m prepared for it."
And somehow those words had made all the difference.
Sophia had spent years surviving in an industry where people stole ideas, sabotaged careers, and smiled while doing it.
She knew how to fight.
By the time the call ended, Catherine found herself genuinely believing Sophia would weather this storm.
She lowered the phone and turned toward Maximilian.
He was seated beside her, one arm resting on the armrest while the other moved rapidly across his phone screen.
His attention remained fixed on whatever conversation was unfolding there. The glow from the screen illuminated the sharp lines of his face. Every so often his expression would harden. Then relax. Then harden again.
Catherine knew exactly what he was doing—Messages, updates, strategies and solutions.
Her brothers had promised they were handling everything. And Maximilian was helping them. Not because anyone had asked, but because he wanted to.
Because that was what family did.
For a moment, she simply watched him. And unexpectedly, a profound sense of calm settled inside her. The problems had not disappeared. Far from it.
The next ten days became an absolute disaster. It was almost impressive how much chaos had been crammed into such a short period of time.
Sophia’s leaked collection had only been the beginning.
The ranch had become another battlefield. A politically connected businessman had suddenly appeared, claiming ownership of a section of land that had belonged to Laurel Creek for nearly a century.
Not just any section. The section containing a significant portion of the ranch’s water supply.
The timing was far too convenient. The documentation being used to support the claim was suspicious. And everyone knew it. Still, legal disputes had a way of becoming messy regardless of who was right.
Then there was Jonathan.
His company had suffered a series of increasingly aggressive cyberattacks. Inventory systems had been corrupted. Shipment information altered. Warehouse databases compromised. Products that should have been easily located seemed to vanish into thin air.
The resulting confusion had already begun affecting deliveries.
Some shelves were sitting half-empty because nobody could determine where the merchandise had been rerouted.
Jonathan sounded more annoyed than worried whenever she spoke to him, which, somehow, worried Catherine even more.
Because Jonathan only became that calm when he was plotting something.
And then there was Alexander.
The situation surrounding him was perhaps the most dangerous.
While continuing his investigation into the rogue FBI agents responsible for his unlawful arrest, confidential information connected to several of his cases had somehow found its way into the public sphere.
Nothing directly implicated Alexander. At least, not yet.
But enough questions had been raised to create suspicion. Enough uncertainty existed for people to whisper. An ethics complaint had followed shortly afterward.
Now an investigation was underway.
Alexander had spent years building a reputation that bordered on untouchable. Someone was trying very hard to damage it. Someone was trying very hard to damage all of them.
The pattern was impossible to miss. The attacks were coordinated. Calculated. Targeted.
And Catherine knew exactly who was responsible.
Dorian Blackwood. And now Fitzgerald Blackwood.
The thought darkened her expression. They had finally stopped hiding behind indirect threats and subtle maneuvering.
They had declared war.
Yet strangely enough, Catherine found herself feeling less frightened than she would have expected.
Perhaps it was because her brothers sounded confident whenever she called. Perhaps it was because Sophia refused to panic. Perhaps it was because Jonathan seemed more irritated than alarmed. Perhaps it was because Alexander sounded offended rather than concerned.
Or perhaps it was because every time she looked beside her, Maximilian was there, working, planning, protecting, and standing shoulder to shoulder with her family as though he had always belonged there.
The guilt she had carried for so long had gradually begun to fade. Now she was finally beginning to understand something important.
She was not alone. She had never truly been alone. Her family was fighting. Maximilian was fighting.
And they were all fighting together.
The realization brought an unfamiliar peace.
Later that night, after they returned home, Catherine changed into her pajamas and slipped beneath the blankets.
The room was dark except for the soft glow of a bedside lamp.
A few minutes later, Maximilian joined her. He wrapped an arm around her waist almost automatically as he settled beside her.
The gesture was so familiar now that neither of them thought about it.
Catherine shifted closer until her head rested comfortably against his chest. Beneath her ear she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, strong, reliable, and constant.
The sound soothed something deep inside her.
Outside, problems continued to gather. Tomorrow would undoubtedly bring new complications. But for tonight, she allowed herself to let go of them.
Maximilian’s hand moved slowly through her hair. A simple gesture. A quiet one. Yet Catherine felt herself relaxing almost immediately.
As her eyes gradually drifted shut, Catherine realized something that would have terrified her once.
She trusted him completely.
And for the first time in a very long while, that trust felt less like a risk and more like a refuge.
-----
That day, Maximilian was at the university, immersed in his teaching duties.
Meanwhile, Catherine had planned to meet Bernice. With her current research progressing steadily, she wanted to discuss the possibility of bringing Bernice back onto the project. Few people understood her work as thoroughly as Bernice did, and even fewer possessed her rare combination of intelligence, discretion, and relentless attention to detail.
The thought brought a small smile to Catherine’s lips as she stepped out of the brownstone.
The smile vanished instantly.
A black luxury sedan was parked across the street.
And leaning casually against it was Dorian Blackwood.
For a brief moment, Catherine’s heart lurched so violently she felt it in her throat.
Memories she would rather forget flashed through her mind, accompanied by the instinctive urge to turn around and walk back inside.
But she didn’t want to let an enemy see what they can do to her.
By the time Dorian’s gaze met hers, every trace of emotion had disappeared from her face. Her spine straightened. Her expression settled into cool composure.
Only the slight tightening of her fingers around her handbag betrayed the storm beneath the surface.
Dorian smiled.
The sight of it made Catherine’s stomach turn, and yet she met his gaze without flinching, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
"What do you want, Dorian?" she asked evenly.
If he noticed the hostility beneath her calm tone, he gave no indication.
His smile merely widened.
And he pointed at his car. "Join me."
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