"The Whitman Group."
"Yes. Call Harrington directly. Tell him I need twenty minutes of his time. In person."
Tyson makes a note but doesn't move to leave. "And the other matter we discussed? The evidence that doesn't exist yet?"
I turn to face him, letting him see the decision in my eyes. The line I'm crossing deliberately, with full awareness of what it means. What it costs. "Make it exist."
He holds my gaze for a long moment, then nods once. A soldier accepting orders he might question but will execute without hesitation.
When they've both left, I return to my desk. To the work of dismantling a woman who thought she could take what's mine. Who thought her threats and manipulations would force me to surrender again.
Four years ago, I gave up everything to protect Chanel from Megan's poison. I walked away from my marriage, my family, my chance at happiness because I thought sacrifice was the answer. Because I believed I could love her best by leaving her.
I was wrong.
You don't protect what matters by walking away from it. You protect it by eliminating what threatens it. By becoming the thing darkness fears.
My phone vibrates on the desk. Chanel: We need to talk. Not about last night. About the audit. I found something.
I stare at the message, reading between lines so sparse they're practically telegraphic. Professional language. Distance established. Boundaries redrawn after what happened between us.
I should respect that. Should give her the space she's asking for. Should respond with equal professionalism.
I don't.
I'll come to you. Your office or mine?
Three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear. Digital evidence of hesitation.
Neither. The Met. Egyptian wing. Noon.
Public. Neutral. Safe.
I type a single word.Done.
Then I set the phone down and return to the architecture of Megan's destruction—the calculated dismantling of the woman who thought she could take Chanel from me twice.
I've spent four years pretending to be a better man. Wearing the mask of restraint and control. Telling myself it was for Chanel's sake. That she deserved someone who could rise above the darkness coded into his DNA.
But that was the real lie. The real betrayal.
Chanel didn't marry a man who was better than his nature. She married a man who would do anything to protect what mattered. A man willing to cross lines others wouldn't approach.
She married me. The real me.
And if that's not the man she wants anymore? If the truth of who I am repulses her?
Then at least this time, the choice will be hers. Made with clear eyes and full information.
This time, I bring my full self to the table. The darkness and the light. The violence and the tenderness. The man whowould burn down the world to keep her safe, and the man who memorizes the exact cadence of her breathing when she sleeps.
This time, I don't hide who I am to be worthy of her love. I become worthy by being real.
My phone buzzes with a text from Collins:Nuclear option initiated. Systems going dark in five minutes.
I send a quick acknowledgment, then move to the window one last time. In moments, Novare Global Strategies will go silent across the world. Offices from London to Singapore will lose connection. Operations will freeze. Millions in transactions suspended.
All to protect what matters most.