Page 102 of The CEO

“Always am,” I assure her as the elevator arrives with a soft ding. “See you tomorrow.”

In the parking garage, I slide behind the wheel of my new car, a subtle upgrade courtesy of my “promotion,” but actually a gift from Damien, with added security features I hope I never need. As I drive toward Eden, anticipation builds in my chest—a delicious tension that makes every nerve ending feel more alive.

Tonight, I’m not just delivering information to The Shadows. For the first time, I’m presenting a target I’ve selected entirely on my own—an operation I’ve designed from beginning to end. Tonight, I step fully into my role not just as Damien’s partner, but as a true power player within The Shadows.

The rush of this realization sends a shiver down my spine—part excitement, part disbelief at how far I’ve come. The transformation from grieving obituary writer to this version of myself seems both impossible and inevitable when I look back at the path that brought me here.

Traffic thins as I leave the city behind, giving me space to think, to prepare myself for the transition ahead. I rehearse my presentation mentally, organizing the evidence I’ve gathered, the connections I’ve identified, the vulnerabilities I’ve mapped in our target’s operations. The council expects precision, clarity, actionable intelligence—and tonight, I’ll deliver all three.

The ring on my finger catches the afternoon sunlight as I turn onto the private road leading to Eden. Its weight, once unfamiliar, now feels like a natural extension of myself. The ruby glints like a drop of blood—appropriate for what we are to each other, what we’ve become together.

Six months ago, I discovered the truth about my parents’ deaths and confronted the man responsible for covering it up.

Three months ago, I accepted his proposal among the deadly blooms of his greenhouse, embracing not just the man, but the empire he—we—are building.

Tonight, I complete my transformation, fully stepping into the darkness I once feared but now recognize as my natural element.

I check my phone as I approach the gates of Eden, seeing a message from Damien.

Damien:Council assembled. Awaiting your arrival.

A smile curves my lips, as power and anticipation create a heady cocktail in my veins. I’ve never felt more alive, more purposeful, more completely myself than in these moments when I’m about to wield the influence I’ve cultivated.

As Eden’s gates open before me, I take a deep breath, centering myself for what’s to come. The woman who drives through these gates bears little resemblance to the one who stumbled upon Damien threatening someone in a forest preserve all those months ago. That Eve was searching for justice without understanding its true nature or cost.

This Eve not only understands but embraces that cost—recognizes that true justice requires not just exposure but consequences . . . not just truth, but power.

And power, I’ve discovered, suits me perfectly.

The afternoon sun glints off of Eden’s Gothic towers as I park and make my way toward the entrance where Foster awaits, his stoic presence a familiar greeting. Behind him, through the grand doors, lies the underground chamber where The Shadows’ council gathers, waiting for my presentation, my evidence, my direction.

And it feels absolutely right.

Chapter20

Damien

SIX MONTHS LATER . . .

The private island emerges from the sapphire waters as our seaplane descends, revealing a lush green jewel ringed by white sand beaches. From the air, it appears untouched by human hands—pristine and isolated. Only those with knowledge of The Shadows know of its existence, and fewer still have access to its shores.

“It’s beautiful,” Eve murmurs beside me, her face pressed to the window as we circle in preparation for landing.

“The Shadows acquired it decades ago,” I explain, watching as the pilot expertly guides us toward the crystalline lagoon. “Originally as a secure meeting location, later as a retreat. Very few members have ever visited.”

“But you have,” she observes, glancing at me with knowing eyes.

“Occasionally,” I acknowledge. “Though never for pleasure. Always business, always alone.”

Until now. Until Eve.

The seaplane touches down with barely a splash, skimming across the water before coming to rest near a small, discreet dock. As we disembark, I watch Eve take in our surroundings: the untamed vegetation rising from pristine beaches, the modern-yet-unobtrusive structure nestled among the trees, the absolute privacy that surrounds us.

“No staff,” I tell her as we walk toward the house, carrying our minimal luggage between us. “No surveillance. No communication systems except emergency protocols. For the next week, we are completely alone.”

The reality of this strikes me as I say it. In fifteen years, I have never been truly disconnected from The Shadows, from the empire I built, from the power I wield. Every vacation, every retreat, has included daily reports, contingency planning, and strategic decisions delivered remotely.

This time, at Eve’s insistence, I’ve surrendered control completely by leaving Foster and The Vigilante to manage operations, trusting the organization to function without my constant oversight. The anxiety this should provoke is notably absent, replaced by an unfamiliar lightness.

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