BRIELLE’S POV
Morning in the townhouse started the way most of them did.
Coffee was already brewing, three small voices arguing over who got the blue cup, and me trying to get everyone dressed before the clock ran out.
Maya stood on the kitchen stool watching me pack the lunch boxes. She was quiet for longer than usual.
“Mama?”
“Hmm?”
“Do we have a daddy?”
The question was out of a four-year-old’s curiosity, but I wasn't ready enough to talk about that topic.
Lila looked up from her cereal. Nora kept chewing, but her eyes moved between us.
I closed the lid on the third lunch box and wiped my hands on a towel even though they were already dry.
“You have me,” I said. “And you have Grandpa and Uncle Tristan. That’s a lot of people who love you.”
Maya’s forehead wrinkled. “But other kids have a daddy who lives with them.”
“Some do, while some don’t. Families look different.”
She thought about that. “Did ours go away?”
I kept my voice even. “He’s not here. But you’re not missing anything important, okay? You have everything you need.”
It wasn’t a lie. It also wasn’t the whole truth. The pain from the past came back to my mind for a minute, then I shoved it down as usual.
“Come on, grab your shoes. We’re going to be late.”
They scrambled. The moment vanished as fast as it came, just like every other question they ever asked.
One second it was there, and the next, I was carrying it by myself.
By the time I dropped them at the small private preschool Alexander had arranged, my assistant, Claire, was already waiting in the car with two tablets and a folder.
“Morning,” she said, sliding one tablet toward me as the driver pulled into traffic. “Quick rundown before we get there. The redevelopment covers four territories. Mixed-use towers, luxury residential, two hotels, a tech campus, and the full security contracts. The projected value is sitting at just under four billion. No single family can float the risk alone, which is why your father pulled the Brauns, Fletchers and Knights in years ago. The Prescotts need this partnership as much as they do. Walking away isn’t easy. It would cost us the New York foothold and a lot of face.”
I scrolled through the summary pages; Numbers. Timelines. Ownership percentages.
Claire continued, “Today is the first formal sit-down with the new leads from each side. You’ll be presenting the design and brand direction for the residential and hospitality pieces. They already know you’re taking the chair for our side.”
I kept reading.
She hesitated, then added the names. “Axel Braun will be there for their family. So will Hunter Fletcher and Darius Knight.”
My thumb stopped moving on the screen.
The old humiliation came back to my mind again. The laughter behind the half-open door, the sketchbook on the floor. The names they called me.
I breathed in once through my nose and let it out slowly.
Claire watched me. “You okay?”
“Yeah I’m fine. Keep going.”
She did, listing out more numbers and schedules. While I filed every word away and forced the rest of it back into the box where it belonged.
The car stopped in front of the glass tower that now carried the Prescott name on the top floors. I stepped out, with a tablet under my arm, and headed for the private elevator.
One of the building managers intercepted me in the lobby with a polite smile and a problem.
“Ms. Prescott, sorry to catch you. The boardroom on fifty-two had a last-minute AV issue. We’ve moved the meeting to fifty-four, the east room. Your materials are already transferred. Also, the design team on thirty-one asked if you could sign off on the sample boards before the end of the day. They won’t move forward without your eye.”
I nodded. “Tell them I’ll look at the boards after this meeting. And thank you for the room change.”
He looked relieved. “Of course. Welcome back, by the way. The floor’s been waiting for you.”
The exchange lasted less than a minute, but it made me feel powerful.
The people here waited for my signature. They moved rooms for me. The girl who used to hide in hallways no longer existed in this building.
The elevator opened on fifty-four. Claire walked half a step behind me, more quiet now. And I could already hear voices through the open boardroom doors.
I stepped inside.
The long table was already occupied. Three men sat on the far side. Alexander had taken the head and a few senior executives filled the remaining seats.
Someone near the door spoke clearly.
“Everyone, this is Brielle Prescott. She’ll be leading the design and brand direction for the Prescott side, and she’ll be your primary point of contact going forward.”
I looked at each of their faces.
Axel half-rose out of his chair before he caught himself and sat back down.
Hunter’s polite expression turned into pure stunned silence. While Darius went completely still, looking at me in the eyes.
Continued on GoodNovel
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