Chapter23
1132 Words
CHAPTER 23
The scent of fresh roses and congratulations still lingered in the penthouse.
Every corner of Belle’s bedroom was littered with evidence of yesterday’s success — unopened gift boxes, glittering cards from foreign dignitaries, a half-drunk bottle of vintage champagne, and a stunning cream-colored blazer draped over the back of a chair like a crown.
But Belle wasn’t basking in the afterglow. She was already working.
Hair pulled into a loose bun, sleeves rolled up, coffee in hand, she paced slowly across the floor while waiting for the call. The one she’d been anticipating since before dawn.
Her phone buzzed.
Salvatore.
She picked up immediately. “Well?”
“You sound tense,” he said, his voice smooth and laced with amusement. “You should try sleeping. I hear it does wonders for anxiety.”
“Salvatore.”
“Alright, alright.” A pause. Then:
“Seventeen percent.”
Belle stopped pacing.
Her grip tightened on the mug. “Seventeen?”
“Surprised?” he asked. “You said fifteen, but I figured — why stop there when two more were practically begging for a new buyer? They were already halfway out the door. All I had to do was smile and flash a contract.”
Belle blinked slowly, absorbing the weight of his words. Seventeen percent. Quietly purchased. Official. Legal. Hidden.
A full seventeen percent of Bailison Group now belonged to someone Adam didn’t even know existed.
“You’re incredible,” she said softly, almost to herself.
“I’ll have my legal team set up the trust account this afternoon,” Salvatore continued. “As far as anyone knows, I’m just a silent investor keeping his nose out of boardroom politics. But you and I both know better.”
Belle allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. “Thank you.”
Salvatore chuckled. “You don’t need to thank me. You did the hard part. You risked everything. I’m just the quiet old man cashing the cheques.”
“You just helped me pull off the most discreet hostile defense move this company’s ever seen.”
“And your husband?” he asked casually. “Has he figured out someone beat him to it?”
“No,” Belle said, stepping toward the window and staring out at the city. “Not yet.”
There was a brief pause. Then Salvatore’s tone shifted — slightly more serious.
“You know this won’t stop him. He’ll adapt.”
“I know,” she murmured. “But for now… I’ve outplayed him.”
Salvatore let out a low whistle. “Catherine would’ve been proud.”
Belle’s throat tightened — just slightly.
“Talk soon,” she said, then ended the call before emotion could take root.
She placed her phone gently on the desk and leaned back in her chair, letting the silence of the morning wrap around her like armor.
For the first time in weeks, she felt like she was the one pulling the strings.
But she also knew better than to get comfortable.
This was just the first victory. The war was still coming.
___
It was time for breakfast.
The smell of warm croissants and fresh espresso drifted through the penthouse kitchen like a morning lullaby.
Belle sat at the marble breakfast island, dressed in a silky lavender robe and flipping idly through a digital magazine she wasn’t reading. The screen glowed in front of her, but her mind was somewhere else. Everywhere else.
Across from her, Adam stood by the espresso machine in a black shirt and grey joggers, sleeves pushed up, hair still slightly wet from his shower.
He handed her a cup of coffee without a word.
She looked up. “Thanks.”
Adam nodded and sat down across from her, nursing his own drink.
There was a pause. Then—
“I forgot to say congratulations yesterday.”
Belle finally looked up, brows raised. “Wow. Is that guilt I detect in your voice, Mr. Hamilton?”
Adam smirked lightly. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I won’t. I know how emotionally constipated you are.”
He chuckled under his breath and took a sip of his coffee.
Belle tilted her head. “So? Say it again. Properly this time. Like you mean it.”
Adam gave her a slow look — one that might have been a smirk if it weren’t for the way his eyes softened just slightly.
“Congratulations, Belle Bailison,” he said, voice steady. “You did it.”
Belle leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, pretending to think. “Hmm. Not bad. Could’ve used more drama. A floral arrangement. A banner, maybe?”
Adam raised a brow. “Should I have hired a flash mob?”
“I’m just saying, this is a major milestone,” she replied, grabbing her coffee. “A girl becomes CEO once in her life.”
“Technically, some do it twice.”
Belle rolled her eyes. “Please don’t ruin this moment with technicalities.”
Adam smiled. “You’re CEO now. People will be watching you, judging. Expecting you to either soar or implode.”
Belle met his gaze. “I’ll soar.”
Adam held her stare a moment longer than necessary. Then gave a slight, barely-there smile. “I don’t doubt it.”
For a moment, they both just sat in the comfort of clinking spoons and quiet sips, the air unusually light between them.
Then Adam spoke again. “You looked powerful yesterday.”
Belle blinked. “Excuse me?”
“At the ceremony,” he said, eyes on her. “You didn’t just take the role — you wore it. Like you were born for it.”
Belle stared at him, caught off guard by the sincerity. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“It was.”
She held his gaze for a second too long. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The toast popped up from the toaster behind them — the only sound to break the quiet hum between them.
Belle stood first. “I should head out soon.”
Adam nodded. “Big CEO things?”
“Something like that,” she said, turning toward the hallway.
Then, just before disappearing from sight, she glanced back over her shoulder.
“Oh — and next time you forget to congratulate me,” she said with a sly smile, “make sure you at least bring flowers.”
Adam raised his mug. “Duly noted, madam CEO.”
Belle laughed — the soft, genuine kind that only slipped out when she wasn’t thinking — and then she was gone.
Adam sat alone in the quiet kitchen, staring into his coffee for a long moment.
He smiled to himself.
Then took another sip.
- Writer
