Page 7 of The Exception

Jacob Moretti was a liar and a thief who didn’t know the meaning of the word “integrity.” There was no way in hell I was getting into bed with him. No way I’d let him taint my grandparents’ legacy.

I stood, beyond done with this conversation. “Until my attorney receives a formal expression of interest, there’s nothing to discuss. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a flight to catch.”

Sloan’s and Jasper’s attention whipped to me. Jasper looked as if he might protest but then clamped his mouth shut. Sloan quirked an eyebrow but remained silent. They knew we’d discuss it when we were all together in Ixtapa.

Some of the fight seemed to go out of Fred, his earlier bluster fading at my seeming acquiescence.Good.

“Are you sure you should be leaving now?” Danika asked. “This stock situation is volatile, and I imagine a formal offer is forthcoming.”

Mm. She was definitely in on it. But what did she stand to gain, besides the obvious?

“She’s right,” Donahue said, echoing her concern. Her fearmongering. “We’ll want to move quickly if we receive an offer. Moretti isn’t a patient man.”

“We wouldn’t want to seem desperate, would we?” Before they could say anything else, I left the room without a backward glance.

After a relatively quick helicopter ride, Carson and I boarded my private jet. Pierce was already on board, enjoying a drink.

“I was just ambushed by the board.” I removed my jacket and handed it to Tabitha, my preferred flight attendant from the Hartwell Agency, to hang before taking a seat. “They proposed a merger with Moretti.”

Pierce winced. “How did Jasper and Sloan react?”

Carson excused himself to the private conference room to make some calls, likely knowing I needed some alone time with Pierce.

“They were both late to the call,” I said. “Jasper looked like he was two margaritas into the day. And Sloan, like she’d just woken up from a nap.” Which wasn’t like her at all. Maybe it was jet lag?

“We can’t all be perfect like you,” Pierce teased.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling of the plane. I was far from perfect, and sometimes it was exhausting that everyone held me to that standard.

“Not everyone thinks I’m perfect,” I said. “In fact, apparently many people view me as a cold, heartless billionaire.”

He cringed then reached into his satchel. “I assume you’re referring to this.” He placed a copy of the magazine on my tray table, where it landed with a thud.

I quickly thumbed through the pages until I reached the article about me. I skimmed the words, my jaw clenching so hard I thought I might crack a molar.

What. The. Fuck?

They were supposed to write a favorable article. Something to make me seem, I don’t know, relatable. Instead, I turned the pages with a growing sense of dread. Quotes from an ex-girlfriend. A former board member. Anonymous sources that all made me look like the coldhearted bastard everyone believed me to be. Greedy. Aloof. Out of touch.

“Fuck.” I dragged a hand through my curls, tugging. “Fuck!” I said again, more loudly this time.

Yes, I sometimes struggled to connect to people. But I’d thought the interview had gone well. Had I completely misread the situation, or was the magazine intentionally skewing my image?

“It’s not ideal,” Pierce said.Understatement of the century.“But we can fix it.”

“How?” I asked. “The board has been looking for an excuse to oust me from my position as CEO. And this—” I picked up the magazine and waved it in the air. “This. With the way things are going lately, this could be my undoing.”

“Anyone who really knows you, knows this isn’t you.”

I tossed the magazine aside then blew out a breath and pushed back against the seat. I drummed my fingers on the armrests.

“Graham. Come on. It’s one article.”

“One in a series. There was theVogueone last month. And the?—”

“Yes, but you can still turn this around. I wish you’d allow me to make your charity donations public. You give a ton of your fortune to environmental and animal welfare causes. People would eat that shit up.”

It wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. “I’d rather make it more about the causes than myself.” It was why I always insisted on donating anonymously.

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