Page 53 of Protected By My Best Friend's Brother

“Tell me, Ms. Hastings,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken, “have you considered what you could accomplish with real resources? A dedicated development team, cutting-edge technology, complete creative control?”

“I have all of that at Walker Enterprises.” My voice remains steady, though my mind races. What is he after?

“Do you?” His smile remains calculated, eyes cold despite the practiced charm. “Or do you have a CEO who’s letting personal feelings cloud his judgment? Who might choose to protect you over advancing your innovations?”

“Lucas supports my work completely.” I execute a perfect turn, refusing to let him see how his words affect me.

“Really? Ask him about the expansion plans Clara just mentioned to your boyfriend’s mother.” Brighton’s voice drops to a confidential murmur. “About how he’s planning to restructure the tech division. Under different leadership, of course. For your protection.”

My steps falter slightly. “What?”

“He hasn’t told you?” False concern colors every syllable. “About moving you to a less visible position? Away from client interactions until this scandal dies down?” Brighton’s grip tightens subtly, keeping me in the dance as I process his words. “I’m offering you head of global sustainable technology. Your name on the patents. Your vision, unfettered by emotional complications.”

I scan the room for Lucas. Across the floor, I see Clara speaking to him, her hand on his arm in that possessive way I’ve come to detest. His expression is thunderous as he looks between her and his mother.

“Think about it,” Brighton murmurs, his breath uncomfortably warm against my ear. “We both know talented women in this industry have to choose between professional respect or office romance. You can’t have both. Not in his world.”

The words strike like a physical blow, tapping into my deepest professional insecurities. Haven’t I always worried about this exact scenario? That personal relationship would overshadow my work. That I’d have to choose between being taken seriously and being happy?

The dance ends with a flourish from the orchestra. Brighton steps back, offering a polished bow. “My card, Ms. Hastings. For when you’re ready to be valued for your mind rather than protected for your heart.”

He presses a business card into my hand, then disappears into the crowd before I can respond. I stand momentarily frozen, his words echoing in my mind. Then I move toward Lucas, who’s now striding to his mother’s side, jaw set and eyes dark.

Elizabeth’s face has paled as she speaks urgently to her son. When she sees me approaching, her expression transforms into something too bright, too careful—the look of someone trying to shield another from unpleasant truths.

“Emma, darling,” Elizabeth says, reaching for my hand. “Would you mind checking with the caterers about the dessert’s timing? I think they may need some guidance.”

It’s a transparent attempt to redirect me, and Lucas knows it. His gaze meets mine over his mother’s shoulder, a silent apology in his eyes.

“I’ll handle it,” I say softly, patting Elizabeth’s hand to let her know I understand. Whatever they’re discussing, they need privacy.

I make myself busy with the caterers for several minutes, though they have everything under control. When I glance back, I see Lucas and his mother engaged in what appears to be an intense conversation. His hands are clenched at his sides, and Elizabeth’s eyes glisten with unshed tears.

When Lucas returns to my side minutes later, his eyes have darkened with something I can’t read. There’s a tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there before, a guardedness that reminds me of when he first returned from New York.

“We need to discuss the tech division restructure,” I say quietly, cutting through pleasantries.

His expression closes, the warmth from our dance evaporating. “Emma—“

“Were you going to tell me? About moving me away from client interactions?”

“That’s not—Clara’s twisting things. I’m trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” A chill runs down my spine, Brighton’s words finding fertile ground in my fears. “Or protect the company’s reputation?”

“Both!” His voice rises slightly before he catches himself, glancing around at nearby guests. More quietly, he continues, “You didn’t hear what she told my mother, what the board is saying—“

“No, I didn’t because you didn’t tell me. Just like you didn’t tell me about the restructure.” Pain blooms in my chest, expanding with every heartbeat. “Just like you didn’t tell me when you left two years ago.”

“This is different. The board—“

“The board isn’t the one treating me like I need protection instead of support.” I step back, suddenly aware of Clara’s satisfied smile from across the room. She planned this—all of it. And somehow, I’m still playing into her hands. “I need some air.”

“Emma, wait—“

But I’m already moving toward the terrace, weaving through clusters of guests who seem oblivious to the fact that my world is tilting on its axis. Elizabeth’s sapphire earrings suddenly feel heavy.

The cool night air hits my face as I step outside, a welcome relief after the heated tension of the ballroom. The terrace is less crowded now, most guests having moved inside for dancing. I find a quiet corner near a potted palm, taking deep breaths and trying to sort through my tangled emotions.

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