Chapter Twenty-Two
1058 Words
Alex's POV
The board meeting started at eight.
I wasn't invited, but Victoria texted me updates from inside the room. Sterling had prepared a presentation. Graphs showing stock volatility. Articles about the investigation. A timeline of events that made it look like Damien had been asleep at the wheel for years.
*He's calling for a vote of no confidence,* Victoria texted at eight thirty.
I stared at my phone. Chen had warned us this might happen. Sophie had prepared counterarguments. But seeing it actually unfold was different.
*How's it looking?* I texted back.
*Close. Marcus is handling it.*
I couldn't sit still. Walked to the break room, made coffee I didn't want, walked back. Jordan passed me in the hallway.
"Heard about the board meeting," he said.
"News travels fast."
"Sterling's been talking to people for days. Building support." Jordan stopped. "For what it's worth, most of the junior executives think he's full of s**t. Cross didn't create this mess. He's just the one dealing with it."
"Tell that to the board."
"Can't. But I told Henderson yesterday when he asked my opinion." Jordan shrugged. "Sometimes being young and expendable has advantages. No one expects you to stay quiet."
He walked away and I stood there wondering when Jordan Li had become someone I could almost count on.
Damien's deposition was at ten.
Victoria texted me at nine fifteen. *Vote failed. 6-3. Sterling is furious. Damien left for the deposition.*
I called him. He answered on the second ring.
"I heard," I said.
"Marcus and Victoria held the line. Sophie's presentation helped." He sounded tired. "I'm pulling up to the federal building now."
"You prepared for this."
"I know."
"And you're going to be honest."
"I know that too." He paused. "Alex, if this goes badly—"
"It won't."
"But if it does, I need you to distance yourself from me professionally. Let Sophie handle the optics. Don't let my situation affect your career."
"We're not having this conversation."
"We need to."
"No. We don't." I kept my voice level. "You go in there, you tell them what you know, and you come back. That's what happens. Everything else is noise."
He was quiet for a moment. "I'll call you when it's done."
He hung up.
I went back to my office and tried to work. Failed completely. Opened the same report three times without reading a word. Finally gave up and called my brother.
"Bad time?" James asked when he answered.
"Damien's being deposed by federal investigators. His board just tried to remove him. I'm sitting in my office pretending to work and failing." I leaned back in my chair. "So yes, bad time."
"Want me to come to the city?"
"No. I just needed to tell someone who isn't involved in corporate warfare."
"How are you holding up?"
"I genuinely don't know anymore." I closed my laptop. "Six months ago my biggest problem was getting promoted. Now I'm a witness in a federal investigation, my ex-best friend is facing murder charges, and the man I'm in love with might lose everything because he trusted the wrong person."
"Did you just say you're in love with him?"
I stopped. I hadn't said it out loud before. Not to Damien. Not to anyone.
"Yeah," I said. "I did."
"Does he know?"
"Probably. We're not great at saying things directly."
"Maybe start." James's voice softened. "Alex, you've spent your whole life preparing for things to fall apart. Maybe this time they won't."
"And if they do?"
"Then you deal with it. But you don't get to prepare for disaster and call it protection. That's just fear with a plan."
We talked for a few more minutes. Nothing profound. Just brother stuff. By the time we hung up I felt marginally less like the world was ending.
Damien called at two thirty.
"I'm done," he said. "Four hours. They went through everything. Chicago deal, vendor contracts, financial oversight, Maya's access to accounts."
"And?"
"They're not charging me with anything. Yet. But they're keeping the investigation open." He sounded drained. "They want more documents. More interviews. This isn't close to over."
"Come home."
"I have three meetings this afternoon."
"Cancel them. Marcus can handle it." I was already packing my laptop. "I'm leaving now. Meet me at the apartment."
"Alex—"
"I'm not asking."
He showed up forty minutes later looking like he'd aged a year in one day. Tie loose, jacket over his arm, the careful control he always maintained worn down to nothing.
I took his jacket. "Sit."
He sat.
I made him drink water, then made him eat the leftover Chinese food from last night, then sat next to him on the couch and didn't say anything because there was nothing to say that would make it better.
"Sterling's going to try again," Damien said after a while. "He won't stop until I'm gone or he is."
"Then you make sure it's him."
"With what leverage? The investigation makes me look incompetent at best, complicit at worst."
"The investigation makes you look human. You trusted someone you shouldn't have. That's not a crime. That's just life." I turned to face him. "Sterling's mistake is thinking people want perfection. They don't. They want someone who can handle a crisis without falling apart. You've done that."
"Barely."
"Barely counts."
He looked at me then. Really looked. "When did you get so certain about things?"
"When I decided to stop planning my exit strategy." I said it plainly. "I'm staying, Damien. Whatever comes next. I'm staying."
Something shifted in his expression. Relief, maybe. Or just exhaustion finally catching up.
"Okay," he said.
"Okay?"
"I'm too tired to argue with you." He leaned his head back against the couch. "And I don't want to."
We sat there as the afternoon light changed. His hand found mine at some point. I didn't pull away.
"I love you," I said. Not planned. Not practiced. Just true.
He turned his head slightly. "What?"
"I love you. In case that wasn't clear."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then he squeezed my hand.
"It was clear," he said. "But I'm glad you said it anyway."
"Are you going to say it back?"
"Yes. Eventually. When I can make it sound less like defeat and more like choice."
I smiled despite everything. "That's fair."
- Writer
