Contracted To My Enemy

Uninvited

*Roman Pov*

James is waiting the second we clear the elevator.

"Alonso Reyes's lawyer called twice during the press conference," he says, falling into step beside me. "Threatening breach of an informal agreement. I told them there's nothing in writing to breach."

"There isn't."

"Doesn't stop him from making noise. He's already talking to two papers."

"Let him talk." I glance back at Aleta, still a few steps behind, listening. "Noise isn't evidence. What else?"

"Eduardo moved money this morning. Fast. Right after the story broke."

That gets my full attention. "Moved it where?"

"Three accounts, all offshore, all new in the last six hours. Whatever's left in the ones Aleta gave us, he's trying to get ahead of us finding it."

"He can't move what's already flagged."

"He can move what isn't flagged yet." James hesitates. "There's more. He's called an emergency board session. Tonight."

Aleta's voice cuts in behind me. "For what?"

James glances at her, then at me, waiting for permission. I nod.

"Officially, to address market concerns about the engagement," James says. "Unofficially, sources say he's pushing to accelerate David's CEO transfer. Before end of quarter like he said. Before tonight, if he can manage it."

"Why the rush?" Aleta asks.

"Because if David's confirmed CEO before anyone finds the offshore accounts tied to Eduardo personally," I say, "it becomes David's problem to explain, not Eduardo's. Distance. He's building himself an exit."

Aleta's jaw tightens. "He's using his own son as a firewall."

"He's using everyone as a firewall," I say. "You. David. Alonso Reyes's shipping lanes. That's the only thing he's ever been consistent about."

---

My mother is waiting in my office when we reach it. Not called ahead. Not announced. Sitting in the chair across from my desk like she owns it, which, on paper, she partly does.

"That was a mistake," Dolores says, before either of us has fully stepped through the door.

"Which part?"

"All of it. The engagement. The press conference. Letting her stand beside you in front of every camera in the city like she belongs there."

"Mother." My voice stays level, but there's an edge under it now. "Aleta is standing right here."

"I'm aware." Dolores doesn't look at her. "I'm speaking to you."

Aleta steps forward before I can answer for her. "You can speak to me directly. I'm not deaf, and I'm not leaving the room."

Dolores finally turns, eyes sharp, assessing, the way she looks at a contract she suspects has a hidden clause. "You've caused quite a scene, Ms. Mendoza. In less than two days."

"Your son caused the scene when he agreed to marry me. I just walked through the door."

Something almost like respect flickers behind Dolores's eyes, gone as fast as it appeared. "Careful," she says. "I don't dislike you yet. That could change quickly."

"Noted."

Dolores turns back to me. "Eduardo is calling an emergency session tonight. Did you know?"

"James just told me."

"And you have a plan."

"I have several." I sit on the edge of my desk. "None of them require you sitting in on this conversation."

Dolores stands, smooths her jacket, the picture of composure even when she's furious. "I want updates. Not gossip from the staff. From you." She looks at Aleta once more on her way to the door. "Welcome to the family, Ms. Mendoza. Try not to make me regret it faster than I already do."

She leaves. The door clicks shut behind her.

Aleta exhales, slow. "That went well."

"That went better than I expected." I stand, moving to the window. "She didn't threaten to have you removed from the building. That's practically a welcome basket."

"I feel so lucky."

I almost laugh. Catch it before it shows.

---

James knocks twice, then lets himself in without waiting. "The board session. Eduardo's confirmed it for eight tonight. Closed to press, but he's already leaked the agenda to two outlets. He wants this to look inevitable before it happens."

"Who's attending?"

"Full board. All twelve members from yesterday, plus counsel." James pauses. "Ms. Mendoza's name is still on record as a board member. Technically, she's still invited."

Aleta looks up sharply. "I can go."

"You were disinherited yesterday," I say. "Not removed from the board. Those are two different documents, and knowing your father, I doubt he thought to file both in the same afternoon."

"He wouldn't have thought he needed to," Aleta says, already moving toward the door. "He assumed I'd be gone. Married off, out of the picture, no reason to show up and cause problems."

"If you walk into that room tonight," I say, "it stops being a quiet transfer of power. It becomes a public fight in front of the exact people your father's trying to convince this is settled."

"Good." She turns to face me, something sharp and alive in her expression I haven't seen since the boardroom yesterday. "That's exactly what I want it to become."

"You understand what happens if he has you removed by security. In front of counsel. It'll be in every paper by morning, and not the version we want."

"Then I won't give him a reason to remove me." She holds my gaze. "I'll sit down, say nothing that isn't true, and make every person in that room watch him try to explain why his own daughter, still legally on the board, wasn't invited to a session about her own company's future."

I study her for a second. She's not asking permission. She's telling me what she's doing and waiting to see if I'll get in the way.

"I'm coming with you," I say.

"You weren't invited either."

"Neither were you, according to him. We'll both be uninvited together."

The corner of her mouth moves, almost a smile. "Careful," she says. "That almost sounded like you enjoyed this."

"I've been trying to get into that boardroom for four years," I say, already reaching for my jacket. "I'm not missing it now that the door's finally open."

---

The Mendoza building lobby is quiet when we arrive. A guard steps forward before we reach the elevators.

"I'll need to see identification, and I don't have either of you on tonight's list."

"I'm a board member," Aleta says, already holding out her ID. "I don't need to be on a list for a meeting I'm entitled to attend."

The guard hesitates, radio in hand, clearly unsure whether stopping Eduardo Mendoza's daughter is a fight worth having in a marble lobby at eight o'clock at night.

"One moment," he says, and steps aside to make a call.

I watch Aleta's hands. Steady. Not a single tremor, even though I can see the tension held tight through her shoulders. "You don't have to do this tonight," I say, low, just for her.

"Yes, I do." She doesn't look at me. "If I don't walk in there tonight, he wins the story before it's even written. I'm done letting him write it."

The guard returns, radio lowered. "Mr. Mendoza says you can go up."

Aleta's eyebrows lift, surprised despite herself. "He said yes?"

"He said," the guard replies carefully, "that he wants to see exactly how far you're willing to take this."

Aleta glances at me once before stepping toward the elevator.

"Then let's show him."

The doors close. Somewhere above us, twelve board members are already waiting, and Eduardo Mendoza is about to find out his daughter didn't leave the fight the way he assumed she would. She brought reinforcements.