Reborn As The Tycoon's Hated Ward

The metal doors of the private executive elevator slid open.

The air on the top floor of the Hancock Group building was different. It was freezing, entirely silent, and smelled faintly of expensive leather and lemon polish. The adrenaline that had fueled Helena in the lobby was beginning to drain, leaving a cold, sharp focus in its wake.

Milos, Hayward's silent shadow of an assistant, pushed open the heavy mahogany double doors. He gestured for them to step inside.

The CEO's office was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a dizzying, unobstructed view of the Manhattan skyline.

Hayward did not sit in his leather chair. He walked straight to the wide, black walnut desk. He planted both hands flat on the polished wood and leaned forward. His dark eyes locked onto them. He looked like a predator inspecting a fresh kill.

Warren seized the silence. He clutched his bleeding nose with one hand and pointed a trembling finger at Helena with the other.

"Mr. Hancock, you saw it!" Warren whined, his voice thick and nasal from the blood. "She attacked me! Completely unprovoked! I was just walking through the lobby and she assaulted me!"

Hayward slowly shifted his gaze from Helena to Warren. The sheer disgust in Hayward's eyes was so heavy it made the air in the room feel thick.

Warren's voice died in his throat. He swallowed hard, taking a step back.

"Shut up," Hayward said. His voice was not loud, but the absolute authority in it made the glass windows seem to vibrate.

Hayward turned his head. His eyes fixed on Helena. The temperature in the room dropped another ten degrees.

"A physical altercation in my lobby," Hayward said, his words clipped and sharp. "Explain yourself, Helena. And it better not be 'Eleanor' this time."

Helena felt her spine stiffen. Her thumb automatically found the side seam of her white dress, pressing hard into the fabric. She forced her breathing to slow down. She looked straight into his dark, freezing eyes.

Beside her, Alaina was trembling, not just from fear, but from the lingering shock of her own actions. She took a half-step forward, her voice shaky but laced with a new, defiant anger. "It wasn't her fault, he was-"

Helena raised her hand. She placed it gently but firmly on Alaina's shoulder, squeezing once. She stepped in front of her sister, shielding her from Hayward's intense stare.

"He was sexually harassing Alaina in the pantry," Helena said. Her voice was completely flat, as if she were reading a grocery list.

Warren jumped as if he had been burned. "That is a lie! I was giving her professional advice! She is trying to cover up her psychotic episode!"

Hayward narrowed his eyes. A muscle ticked violently along his jawline. He knew Warren Finch was a corporate parasite, but he also knew Helena's history of destruction and lies.

"An accusation like that requires proof," Hayward said coldly, his gaze cutting through her. "Otherwise, you are just a liability committing assault on company property."

The corner of Helena's mouth twitched upward. It was a small, dangerous smile.

She reached into the pocket of her dress. She pulled out her phone. She did not rush. She unlocked the screen, tapped the voice memo app, and turned the volume all the way up.

She stepped forward and placed the phone flat on the center of Hayward's pristine walnut desk.

Warren's oily, suggestive voice filled the massive office.

"Do not be shy. In this industry, who you know is more important than what you know. I can be a very helpful mentor. If you are willing to learn."

The recording ended. The silence that followed was suffocating.

Warren's face drained of all color. His knees gave out, and he slumped heavily into one of the leather guest chairs, gasping for air as if he were drowning.

Hayward stared at the phone. His jaw locked so tight the bone showed white through his skin. He hated scandals. He hated anything that threatened the stability of his company.

He looked up at Helena. The anger in his eyes had not faded; it had shifted focus.

"You had evidence," Hayward said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "You could have brought it to HR. Instead, you chose to create a public spectacle in my lobby."

He pushed off the desk and walked slowly around it, closing the distance between them.

"You endangered the stock price for a personal vendetta," he stated, stopping just inches from her. The heat radiating from his body was overwhelming.

Helena tilted her head back to maintain eye contact. She did not step away.

"If I went to HR," Helena said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper, "a mid-level manager like him would get a quiet warning. Alaina would be quietly transferred. I wanted him destroyed."

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice even further.

"And," Helena added, "if the media found out that the Hancock Group's HR department tried to cover up the sexual harassment of the CEO's biological daughter by a deputy manager... how much damage do you think that would do to our brand's reputation? How would that headline look on the front page tomorrow morning?"

Hayward's pupils dilated. His breath hitched for a fraction of a second.

He stared at the woman standing in front of him. This was not the brainless, screaming socialite he knew. This was cold, calculated, corporate blackmail.

Helena did not blink. "Or maybe I should just call Marian and tell her exactly how her husband's company treats her stepdaughter?"

The mention of Marian hit the mark. Hayward's eyes flickered. He could not let Everette's marriage blow up over this.

Hayward turned his back to her. He looked at his assistant.

"Fire Finch," Hayward ordered, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Strip his severance package completely. If he talks to anyone, our legal team will bury him so deep he will never work in this city again."

Two security guards immediately grabbed Warren by the armpits and dragged his limp body out of the office. The heavy doors clicked shut.

Hayward turned back around. He looked at Helena. The disgust was gone, replaced by a dark, heavy scrutiny.

"You win this round," Hayward said quietly. "But if you ever use the media to threaten me again, I will personally throw you out of this building."