Chapter 15
1104 Words
Ryan’s POV
By the time Ryan realised the statement was a mistake, it had already done what pride always did best.
Escalated everything.
He stood in his office staring at three screens.
On one, financial news channels discussed “the Cole-Moretti split” with irritating enthusiasm.
On another, social media clips replayed commentators dissecting his wording.
On the third, his email inbox filled faster than it could be read.
Questions from investors.
Questions from journalists.
Questions from legal.
No answers from Isabella.
Daniel stood near the desk with the expression of a man who had predicted a car crash and was now being forced to admire the wreckage.
“I told you not to imply interference.”
“I didn’t imply anything.”
“You absolutely did.”
Ryan turned sharply.
“I defended myself.”
“You attacked the wrong opponent.”
Ryan laughed once, harsh and empty.
“The wrong opponent? Daniel, her father is freezing my financing.”
“And your wife is the one people sympathise with.”
“She hasn’t said a word.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel spread his hands.
“You’re arguing with a silent woman who caught you cheating. That’s a terrible position strategically.”
Ryan hated when Daniel was useful.
He paced to the window.
Below, the city looked normal. It offended him.
Cars moved. People crossed roads. Deliveries happened.
How dare the world continue while his life collapsed?
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
He answered immediately.
“What?”
A female voice replied, clipped and efficient.
“Mr. Cole, this is Olivia Trent from Moretti Legal.”
Ryan’s grip tightened.
“What now?”
“We’re calling to inform you that access to the penthouse will be restricted pending asset review. You may retain personal belongings but shared contents will be inventoried.”
Ryan went still.
“That apartment is mine.”
“It is leased through a holding company now under dispute.”
“It’s where I live.”
“For the moment.”
The call ended.
Ryan stared at the phone.
Daniel exhaled slowly.
“Did they just evict you politely?”
Ryan threw the phone onto the sofa.
“This is ridiculous.”
“No,” Daniel said. “This is expensive.”
Ryan’s office door opened before he could respond.
Keating entered with two board members behind him.
No appointment.
No courtesy.
Just consequence.
Ryan straightened instantly.
“What is this?”
Keating closed the door behind him.
“A leadership review.”
Ryan laughed.
“You can’t be serious.”
“We are.”
One of the board members, Sandra Wells, stepped forward with a folder.
“We’ve had four investor withdrawals, two paused vendor relationships, and ongoing reputational deterioration in under a week.”
“This is temporary.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “So are CEOs.”
The room went very quiet.
Ryan looked from face to face.
People who had toasted him.
Praised him.
Needed him.
Now they smelled weakness.
“This company is mine.”
Keating’s expression did not move.
“No. You run it. There is a difference.”
Ryan felt something dangerous flicker in his chest.
Rage.
“If you remove me now, markets panic.”
“If we keep you now, markets continue panicking.”
Daniel stared studiously at the carpet.
Coward.
“We are proposing temporary executive oversight,” Sandra said. “Until matters stabilise.”
“By whom?”
Keating folded his hands.
“Interim committee.”
Ryan laughed again.
“That means vultures.”
“It means adults.”
For one wild second, Ryan wanted to overturn the desk.
Instead, he forced his voice calm.
“You do this, I walk.”
Keating shrugged.
“That may be part of the solution.”
They left the folder and walked out.
No drama.
No shouting.
Just the quiet violence of corporate knives.
Ryan stood frozen.
Daniel finally spoke.
“You need to negotiate.”
“With them?”
“With everyone.”
Ryan turned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means apologise properly. Retract the statement. Stop treating this like a dominance contest.”
Ryan scoffed.
“And crawl to Isabella?”
“Yes.”
The bluntness stunned him.
Daniel continued.
“She is the only person in this mess who once wanted you to win.”
The truth of it hit like a slap.
Ryan remembered dozens of moments he had dismissed.
Isabella proofreading speeches at midnight.
Isabella calming him before pitches.
Isabella telling him which investors valued honesty over swagger.
Isabella asking if he’d eaten.
Isabella waiting.
Always waiting.
And what had he given her in return?
Distance.
Contempt.
Chloe.
He sat heavily in his chair.
“I don’t know how to fix this.”
Daniel’s face softened for the first time all week.
“That may be the first useful thing you’ve said.”
Ryan rubbed a hand over his face.
“What do I do?”
“Start with the truth.”
“That I cheated?”
“That you underestimated your wife.”
Ryan almost smiled.
Then his assistant knocked and entered looking pale.
“Mr. Cole… there are reporters downstairs.”
“Send them away.”
“They’re not here for comment.”
“Then what?”
She swallowed.
“They’re here because Chloe Bennett is outside speaking to them.”
Ryan was on his feet in a second.
He reached the lobby just as camera flashes exploded.
Chloe stood on the pavement in oversized sunglasses and white tailoring, looking heartbreakingly composed for someone who rehearsed pain in mirrors.
Microphones surrounded her.
“Miss Bennett, were you involved with Mr. Cole during his marriage?”
“Did he promise to leave his wife?”
“Was Isabella Moretti aware?”
Ryan shoved through security.
“Chloe!”
Heads turned.
Cameras swung.
She lowered her sunglasses slowly.
Perfect timing.
“Ryan,” she said sadly, as if surprised.
“What are you doing?”
She gave a small broken laugh.
“What you taught me.”
His stomach dropped.
A reporter shouted, “Did Mr. Cole ask you to stay quiet?”
Another: “Did he describe his wife as emotionally unstable?”
Ryan froze.
Chloe’s eyes met his.
Then she said clearly, “Ryan says many things when he thinks women belong to him.”
The crowd erupted.
Questions flew.
Flashbulbs burst.
Security moved in.
Ryan stood in the centre of it, reputation bleeding in public.
And somewhere, in some guarded mansion, Isabella Moretti was likely watching.
For the first time, he hoped she wasn’t.
Because now even he was ashamed.
- Writer
