Her Second Chance In Red Chapter 1

The final seal had just been pressed onto the three-hundred-million-dollar merger when Piper Montgomery suddenly grabbed a thick red permanent marker. With a playful, erratic flourish, she drew a lopsided rabbit right across the signature page.

The crimson ink bled through the representatives' names, slashing across the anti-counterfeit watermark.

The conference room fell into a tomb-like silence.

The lead negotiator for the other side surged to his feet, his chair screeching against the hardwood. "This original copy is void."

Piper looked as if she’d been struck. Her lower lip trembled, and tears pooled in her eyes with practiced ease. "Piper didn't mean to. Piper just thought the page looked so empty... I wanted to draw a little bunny..."

My fiancé, Harrison Reed, stepped in front of her instantly, shielding her from the room’s collective glare. He didn’t even glance at the ruined contract—the culmination of two years of my life’s work. Instead, he turned a cold, accusing stare toward me.

"Natalie Ross, you’re the Chief Legal Counsel. If there’s an issue with the document, the responsibility lies with you." His voice was clinical, devoid of the warmth we’d shared just that morning. "Draft a legal opinion immediately. State that the document was flawed prior to the signing. Take the hit for the legal department. Don’t drag Piper into this."

In my past life, this was where my heart had failed me.

I had softened. I had signed the admission of negligence for Piper, pressing my professional seal onto a lie. Later, when the deal collapsed and the firm suffered catastrophic losses, I was the one disbarred and exiled from the industry. Harrison had even taken the money I’d saved for my mother’s life-saving surgery to plug the holes Piper’s "accidental" leaks had caused.

My mother died the night before her operation. Six months later, a "traffic accident" took my life, too.

I blinked, the sterile light of the boardroom snapping me back to the present. I looked at the liability statement Harrison was shoving toward me, and I felt a ghost of a smile touch my lips.

"Fine," I said.

Harrison’s expression relaxed slightly, a hint of smugness returning to his eyes.

A second later, I hit the remote, activating the official livestream that had been set up for the signing ceremony. The screen on the wall flickered to life. The viewer count—already at three hundred and seventy thousand—was skyrocketing.

I pivoted the camera directly toward Piper Montgomery.

"Miss Montgomery," I said, my voice echoing in the silent room. "Could you say that again for the record? Tell the shareholders exactly who destroyed this contract."

The sob Piper was preparing hitched in her throat.

Harrison’s face went white. He lunged for the remote, but I stepped aside, switching the feed to a panoramic view of the room. This wasn't just a private meeting; it was a room full of Vanguard Group executives, Luminary Dynamics representatives, public notaries, and the financial press.

Everyone saw it. They saw Piper Montgomery deliberately pick up that marker and deface the finalized original. It wasn't a spilled glass of water. It wasn't a mix-up of papers. She had uncapped the pen and spent ten full seconds scribbling over the signature block.

"Natalie, turn that damn thing off!" Harrison hissed, his voice a low, vibrating warning.

I ignored him. "Miss Montgomery, you said you didn't mean to. Then tell me, why did you spend so much time drawing on the signature page?"

Piper retreated behind Harrison, her eyes red-rimmed. "Piper didn't know it was important. There were so many papers on the table... how was I supposed to tell them apart?"

Xavier Blackwood, the CEO of Luminary Dynamics, let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. "Every page is numbered. The cover literally says Strategic Partnership Agreement in bold letters. There is a notary sitting right next to you. Are you telling me, Miss Montgomery, that you’re illiterate?"

Piper’s crying intensified. Harrison rubbed her shoulder, his heart clearly bleeding for her.

"Mr. Blackwood, she’s just a junior intern fresh out of college. She’s innocent, perhaps a bit behind her years emotionally. Surely we don't need to bully a young girl over a piece of paper?"

"A piece of paper?" Xavier’s voice turned like a blade. "This original was printed on specialized security paper. Both our overseas authorized signers are here today, and their certifications are valid for this window only. To redo this requires an entire cross-border approval process. We’re looking at a thirty-day delay, minimum. Harrison, you’re calling a three-hundred-million-dollar contract 'a piece of paper'?"

Harrison looked trapped. Naturally, he turned his venom back on me.

"Why wasn't the legal department guarding the documents? If an intern could reach them, it means your protocol is flawed."

It was the same script as last time. If Piper ruined a contract, it was because Legal didn't hide it well enough. If Piper leaked a bid price, it was because the system didn't have enough pop-up warnings. Every sin she committed was transformed into someone else's failure.

I picked up the liability statement Harrison had drafted and tore it in half.

"The documents were under the custody of the notary," I said, my voice steady. "They were placed on the table for final sealing. Piper Montgomery crossed the security line and took the files without authorization. The liability is crystal clear. I will not issue a false legal opinion, and I certainly won't stake my career on a lie for her."

Piper let out a soft, whimpering sniffle. "Does Natalie hate me? I know you and Harrison are getting married soon, but I really wasn't trying to take anything from you..."

The moment she spoke, she tried to pivot a massive corporate disaster into a petty catfight over a man. The livestream comments began to blur past—some calling her out, others wondering if I was just a jealous "career woman" picking on the help.

Harrison, of course, chose the narrative that fed his ego. "Natalie, this is a place of business, not a venue for your insecurities. Turn off the stream and apologize to Piper, and I might consider not citing you for unauthorized filming."

I slid the emerald engagement ring off my finger and placed it on the mahogany table.

"First," I said, "the equipment belongs to the firm, and today’s ceremony was always intended to be a public broadcast. No confidential terms were displayed. Second, the person who destroyed the contract owes the firm and our partners an apology, not me. And third..." I looked him dead in the eye. "Our engagement is over."

Harrison froze. I didn't give him time to process. I turned to the security detail at the door.

"Secure the damaged contract, the room's CCTV footage, and the marker used by Miss Montgomery. As of now, her access to firm documents and internal systems is suspended."

As the guards moved toward her, Piper instinctively tightened her grip on that red marker. The movement was fast, almost feline.

But it didn't escape me.

"This pen is Piper's," she said. For the first time, she wasn't crying. Her voice sounded tight. "Can I please have it back?"

I looked at the marker. It was slightly thicker than a standard Sharpie. I shook my head slowly.

"No."