Page 106 of Sexting the Billionaire

I'm still thinking when sleep finally claims me, my hand never leaving hers.

"The timing is suspicious,to say the least," Jenkins says, sliding a printout across my desk the next morning.

I scan the press release from Grant Industries, my jaw tightening with each line. It doesn't mention Elysian by name, but the implication is clear:

"Grant Industries reaffirms its commitment to ethical leadership and transparent governance in light of concerning industry practices... We believe personal relationships should never influence professional advancement or business decisions... The integrity of our industry depends on maintaining clear boundaries between the boardroom and the bedroom."

"Subtle," I say, setting the paper down with deliberate calm. "What's the media response?"

"Mixed. Fashion Business Daily is asking for comment. WWD is running with 'Luxury Rivals Trade Veiled Accusations.' Most are treating it as standard industry posturing." Jenkins adjusts his glasses nervously. "For now."

"And internally?"

"The board wants to meet. Today." He hands me another paper—a formal request signed by three board members calling for an emergency session regarding "governance concerns."

I expected this. The moment Cassie's pregnancy test showed positive, I knew our careful separation of personal and professional was living on borrowed time. Still, I'd hoped for more than forty-eight hours before facing the first test.

"Schedule it for 2 PM," I tell him. "And Jenkins? No need to look so funereal. This isn't my first boardroom battle."

He nods, not looking particularly reassured as he leaves my office.

Alone, I allow myself a moment of pure, uncensored frustration. Grant's timing is impeccable, as always. Just as Cassie and I are navigating the profound shift in our relationship, just as Lumière's relaunch is gaining momentum, he drops this carefully worded grenade into the industry conversation.

My phone buzzes with an incoming message from Cassie:Just got an "anonymous tip" about the Grant press release. You okay?

Her concern for me, when she's the one more vulnerable in this situation, speaks volumes about who she is. I type back:Fine. Board meeting at 2. Focus on your doctor's appointment. That's what matters today.

Her response is immediate:Both matter. I'll be done by 1:30. Want me there for the board?

I consider this. Having Cassie at the meeting would demonstrate unity, show the board we're not hiding. But it couldalso make her a target, force her to defend personal choices in a professional setting.

Not necessary. I've got this. See you after? My place?

I'll be there. With sonogram pictures if all goes well.

The reminder of her appointment sends a fresh wave of anxiety through me. While I'm dealing with corporate politics, Cassie will be hearing our baby's heartbeat for the first time. The juxtaposition feels wrong, like I'm prioritizing business over the most important personal development of my life.

But Cassie had insisted this morning. "The appointment is just confirmation and basic tests," she'd said while dressing for work. "The next one is when you should be there. When we'll actually see something."

I wasn't convinced but respected her decision. Now, facing Grant's orchestrated pressure campaign and the board's swift reaction, her foresight seems prescient.

I spend the next hours preparing for the board, reviewing governance guidelines, examining my contract terms, assembling evidence of Cassie's professional qualifications and accomplishments. I build a case like I'm heading into court, ready to defend both our relationship and her undeniable talent.

At 1:15, my concentration is broken by another text:Heartbeat confirmed. Strong and steady at 7 weeks. Doctor noted low blood pressure, wants more monitoring. Nothing serious, just cautious. Heading home to rest before coming to you.

Relief floods through me at the confirmation, followed immediately by fresh concern about the blood pressure comment. I type back:Resting is good. I can come to you after the board meeting.

No need. I'm fine, just tired. See you at 6? Bringing dinner.

I smile despite the circumstances. Even now, she's maintaining her independence, refusing to be managed orcoddled. It's what drew me to her from the beginning—that fierce self-possession, the refusal to be diminished.

At exactly 2 PM, I enter the boardroom, expression neutral, stride confident. Nine board members wait around the table, expressions ranging from uncomfortable to openly hostile. Charles Whitaker, my longest ally on the board, gives me a barely perceptible nod as I take my seat.

"Thank you for accommodating this meeting on short notice," I begin, taking control of the narrative immediately. "I understand you have concerns you wish to address."

Regina Powell, one of the newer board members, speaks first. "The Grant Industries press release has raised questions about governance at Elysian. Specifically, about your relationship with Cassandra Monroe and whether it constitutes a conflict of interest."

"Ms. Monroe is Lumière's Creative Director, a position she earned through her exceptional talent and vision. She is also my partner in my personal life. These facts are not mutually exclusive."

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