I manage a weak smile. “Close. Just wrestling with an offer from VanguardGlobal.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Vanguard? An offer? They’re making a play for Taylor Strategic?” He sounds… surprised. And maybe a little impressed.

“Apparently,” I say. “Assuming it’s real, it’s… a significant offer, Leo. Life-changing, potentially. Have a look.”

I show him the email.

He reads it, then he’s silent for a moment.

I brace myself for the inevitable.

The possessiveness.

The ‘you can’t sell, you work forme’ speech. The ‘you’re mine’ speech.

Instead, he just nods slowly. “Okay. So, what’s the catch?”

Catch?

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Vanguard,” he replies. “They’re one of the companies we tried before you. One of the companies that failed us. Miserably. They’re sharks. Apex predators. They’ve been buying up smaller, innovative PR firms in New York for the past two years. Six of them, last I checked. Absorbing them. Neutralizing the competition.” He leans closer. “Are you sure they want toacquireTaylor Strategic, Sabrina? Or do they just want to… eliminate it? Buy you out, shut you down, and take over your client list, including, ahem, your most lucrative and currently most newsworthy one?”

My stomach plummets. He’s right. I’ve been so focused on the financial angle, the prestige, that I hadn’t considered… that. Vanguard isn’t known for nurturing boutique agencies. They’re known for assimilation. For creating a monopoly.

“Fuck,” I whisper, the realization dawning. “You think…?”

“I think,” he says. “That you’ve built something incredible, Sabrina. From scratch. While raising Mia. While dealing with… well, withme. And I think you deserve to see it thrive. On your own terms.” He pauses, then adds: “And selfishly? I don’t want to lose you to some faceless conglomerate. I like having my PR miracle worker in-house.”

“Leo…” I start, not sure what to say.

“So,” he continues, an almost predatory smile spreading across his face, the one that usually precedes a mind-altering kiss. “Here’s a counter-offer.” He leans back, steepling his fingers. “Maxwell Capital will invest in Taylor Strategic Communications. A significant investment. Higher valuation than Vanguard, obviously. More resources. Access to our network. Full autonomy for you, of course. You’re the boss. But… you stay. With us. Withme.”

I stare at him, stunned into silence. An investment? Fromhim? This isn’t just about keeping his PR consultant on a short leash. This is… a partnership. A business one.

Based on respect.

On belief in my abilities.

And maybe… something more.

“You… you’d do that?” I finally manage.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he says. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. You’re the best, Sabrina. I’ve seen what you can do. You’re a fucking force of nature. And Taylor Strategic? It’s got unlimited growth potential. It’s a smart investment.” He pauses, an almost boyish look flickering in his eyes. “And yeah, okay, maybe… maybe I also don’t want to imagine doing this whole ‘responsible billionaire father trying to rebuild his empire and not completely fuck up his life’ thing… without you by my side.”

My heart swells. This isn’t about control or possession. This is about support. This is him, Leo Maxwell, the man who built an empire on aggressive risk and ruthless ambition, offering me a partnership.

In every sense of the word.

“Oh Leo,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says. “Not even thank you. Because you deserve this. You deserve the best. And I won’t have the mother of my child treated like anything less.”

I blink away the tears, and a slow smile spreads across my face. “All right, Leo. All right. I suppose Taylor Strategic Communications is officially ready to discuss terms. But,” I add, a teasing glint in my eye. “You should know, my rates have gone up. Considerably.”

He throws back his head and laughs. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He leans forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss that’s filled with the promise of… everything.