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Contractually Yours: Chapter 36

Sebastian

When I return from my one o’clock meeting, a document with the revised timeline and budget for the collaboration from Luce is waiting in my inbox. I open it to see what she’s done. The new timeline is aggressive, but not unreasonable. Besides, why do a project at all if you’re going to be lackadaisical about it?

The only thing I don’t like about all this is the pain Luce had to suffer. Her tears just about killed me. I’ve witnessed a lot of women crying. Mom will wail at the drop of a hat, and Grandma likes to shed just enough tears that she can dab at her eyes without ruining her makeup. Some of my ex-girlfriends preferred to make a lot of sound without shedding tears—and some simply liked to scream.

But Luce just sits with her jaw tight, her eyes glazed with pain. The tears fall silently and endlessly. Her breathing is even too. It’s like she knows nobody’s going to comfort her—she’s alone in her grief.

I wish she hadn’t cried like that after the confrontation with Bianca. Some people in my office apparently heard about the scene through friends at Peery Diamonds, and Christoph brought me the gossip.

I immediately sent flowers because my showing up to comfort her in person could have undermined her. She needs to look stronger than ever before in front of her people, and that means standing on her own. When we’re alone tonight, I can hold her and give her whatever she needs.

While I plot my revenge.

Luce sounded reluctant to sue the shit out of Bianca. But I’m going to destroy that bitch. I have the standing to sue. Her interference in the collaboration cost Sebastian Jewelry money too. But more importantly, I hate her for hurting Luce. And if a lawsuit turns out to be insufficient, there are other means. There are a million ways to destroy someone.

“By the way, are you attending the shareholders’ meeting for Peery Diamonds tomorrow?” Christoph asks.

I check my calendar. “Isn’t that next month?”

“Normally, yes, but they changed it this year.”

What the hell? “Why?”

“Not sure.” He fidgets. “Do you need me to find out?”

“No.” Shit. The damn proxy votes!

The initial meeting agenda had something about Luce’s performance. Given the colossal clusterfuck with the Sebastian Peery collaboration at the moment, the discussion won’t be pro forma. But she deserves a chance to prove herself without Bianca getting in the way. She shouldn’t lose what she’s worked so hard for—

I stop as an abrupt realization punches me in the heart, sending a shock wave reverberating through my entire body. I don’t want her to get kicked out of the company.

It doesn’t matter that she forced me to marry her. If she told me she didn’t need me anymore, I’d refuse to leave her.

Idiot.

The jealousy that spread through me like poison because of that smile she gave Jason…

My uncontrollable spike of libido every time I see her…

The fury that spiraled out of control when Karl backhanded her…

The ragged lacerations each of her tears created in my heart…

The overwhelming need to make everyone who hurt her suffer…

And the profound desire to shield her from the ugly world…

I’ve been kidding myself. None of that is because she’s my wife and I’m feeling what a proper husband should. I care about her.

No. Care is too diluted.

I think about my brothers—Emmett, Griffin and Grant. Rational men who became completely irrational after meeting their wives.

Holy shit. I run a hand over my jaw.

I’m in love with her. Maybe I fell for her the day she strutted into my office like some Nordic warrior princess. I just never wanted to admit it because I had this idea that I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with a woman who had scandals attached to her name or who was devious enough to back me into an untenable situation.

But really? I could’ve walked away. I’ve never allowed anybody to exert this much control over me, and I didn’t have to begin with her.

I pick up my phone and start typing.

–Me: Hey, change of plans. Luce needs to stay as the CEO.

–Noah: What?

–Grant: You’re saying this now?

–Me: Obviously, she can’t go.

–Nicholas: I knew it! You have feelings for her. But sorry, it’s too late. I already sent my votes against her.

What a dick!

–Me: You sent them when you noticed I had feelings for her?

–Nicholas: I noticed at the party, but you said it was a “separate issue.”

Crap. I don’t have to scroll up to see. I remember what I texted. Somebody invent a time machine, so I can go back in time and kick my own ass!

–Emmett: I already sent mine in, too.

–Me: Okay, so only Emmett and Nicholas sent theirs?

I can salvage this if it’s just them. I have enough shares.

–Grant: No. I did too.

I hang my head. Of course they did it together. Grant and Emmett work in the same office.

–Noah: I sent mine too. Didn’t want to let you down. Sorry, bro.

–Griffin: Yeah. Sorry.

–Huxley: Same.

–Me: Did anybody forget?

No response. Of course not. My brothers would never forget. I can’t even get angry with them because they did what I asked.

–Grant: There might be enough people supporting her. Her family’s been in charge for so long. But if that fails, try to appoint an interim CEO who’s friendly to her. It can be an extended vacation, so she can recharge and come back even stronger.

–Griffin: Precisely. Think about Steve Jobs. He was ousted from Apple once, but when he came back, he was unstoppable.

–Huxley: It’s all about framing and perspective.

Spoken like a true ad executive. On the other hand, they’re right. If I can’t save her CEO seat, I can at least help her make the best of the situation.

Still, I can’t just sit on my ass.

“Christoph, get me a list of every major shareholder at Peery Diamonds. And their contact info. Now.”

* * *

I cancel all my meetings and tasks for the day. I look over the list Christoph brings and sort people into three categories—pro-Luce, anti-Luce and unknown.

Christoph and I spend our time calling and texting people in the unknown category. Many don’t have any particular feelings for Luce as the CEO one way or the other. Those people generally agree she might deserve another chance when I explain the cause of her difficulties. But there are others who are less tractable.

“A bit unusual, to have a CEO’s husband campaign for her,” Miles Wellington observes. He’s an assistant to Barron Sterling, who is one of the top shareholders. “Not terribly ‘corporate.’ But sweet in its own way, I suppose.”

This isn’t good. There’s been talk of Barron turning into a bit of a romantic himself in the past several years, but he didn’t build his multibillion-dollar empire by mixing personal matters with business. He would think badly of me if I tried to appeal to his new reputation. “I’m not contacting you as her husband, but as a fellow shareholder and a business partner. Sebastian Jewelry and Peery Diamonds are doing a joint venture together, and I’m afraid it won’t succeed without her involvement.”

“I see.” His voice softens a little. “I’ll let Mr. Sterling know.”

But not everyone’s like Miles. Some openly say they agree with what Roderick has told them. “She’s too young. It’s too bad about her assistant, but if she were more experienced, maybe she would’ve realized her assistant was suspect.”

Fucking Roderick. He makes it sound like he cares about his daughter’s wellbeing, but in reality, he just wants her out. Probably just petty revenge—he must be pissed that she cut him off, along with his worthless children. How many in the unknown category secretly side with him? Do I have enough firepower to counter them?

If only I had my brothers’ votes… Then Roderick wouldn’t matter.

Focus. I can’t undo what’s already been done. I can only try to mitigate the damage. Christoph and I manage to get through all the unknowns. By the time we’re done, it’s after eight. I tell him he can take some comp time in the morning. After he’s gone, I text my family.

–Me: You will support Luce at tomorrow’s shareholder meeting.

–Mom: Why?

–Me: Because I want you to.

–Travis: What’s in it for us?

How about I don’t choke off all funds so you won’t experience what it’s like to have to balance your checkbook?

I bite my tongue. That isn’t going to get them to act.

–Me: Would you like to be able to control your money again?

–Mom: Really?

–Grandmother: How do we know you’re going to keep your promise?

–Me: Sue me. You have the text.

–Travis: I need a contract!

–Me: Offer, consideration and acceptance is sufficiently binding. Ask your lawyer.

–Grandfather: Sebastian’s correct, Travis. Is that all you need? Our support for Lucienne Peery tomorrow?

–Me: Not just tomorrow, but as long as she needs.

–Mom: And the trust funds will be back under our control.

Mom’s eyes are always on what’s most important to her, but that makes her easy to manage.

–Me: Yes. But you won’t be able to direct anything to Preston. That I cannot allow.

–Mom: Why do you hate him so much?

–Me: It’ll be better for him to learn how the real world works. Otherwise, he’ll squander all his money and be left destitute. Remember—you needed me to run Sebastian Jewelry regardless of who owned it. You know Preston doesn’t have what it takes, and it’s mainly because he was never personally accountable for anything.

I wait a beat. Mom loves Preston, but she loves herself more. She won’t hesitate for long when I’ve provided the perfect excuse.

–Mom: Very well. I accept.

–Grandmother: I suppose it’s time Preston grew up.

–Grandfather: He’s a smart boy. He’ll learn.

Good. But there’s still one holdout.

–Me: Travis?

–Travis: Sometimes fathers have to make difficult choices for their children.

I snort. He’s just happy he doesn’t have to beg me for money. He knows I’m not a fan.

I drive through the brightly lit streets, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. Should I tell Luce what I’ve done, so she can be prepared? But I can’t be sure if she’s really going to lose her CEO seat. I ran some simulations. If at least sixty-two percent of the unknowns side with her—or abstain—she can stay as the CEO, especially with me and my Comtois family voting to support her.

But sixty-two percent is a lot. Roderick’s already done his work, turning many against her. Just because they didn’t overtly say anything doesn’t mean they’re going to be on her side.

Anxiety winds around my heart like poison ivy. The hold only tightens as I park my car and step inside the huge mansion. The light’s on in the living room. It was supposed to be a temporary residence until our marriage ended. But now, it feels like home.

Luce is sitting cross-legged on a couch, reviewing something on her tablet. She looks impossibly young and cute in a white T-shirt and yellow shorts, her feet bare and her hair twisted into a topknot skewered by a pen. In front of her on the coffee table is the purple and white bouquet I sent to her office. She put it in a vase.

“Hey,” she says with a smile.

“Hi.” I bend and kiss her. I search her face for signs of tears or grief. There’s nothing except a smile, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’ve seen her mask before. I wish she would trust me enough to let her shields down.

She might never do that after tomorrow.

No. I did everything I could to fix it. It will go fine. It has to.

“Everything go okay at work?” I ask.

“As okay as could be expected. Bianca’s gone.” She sighs. “Apparently, I was only being nice to her to make myself feel good.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Everything I did made her feel small, and there’s nothing I can do about her feelings. So.” A corner of her lips quirks up in a lopsided smile. “Guess that’s how things go.”

“She never deserved you.”

“Thank you. I suppose I’ll have to be more careful about who I associate with.” She shrugs. “Lesson learned. And better now than later, I guess.” She gestures at the tablet. “Anyway, that’s why I’m going over the presentation for tomorrow’s meeting. I’m going to make my case and ask for another year of their confidence. That’s why the new collaboration timeline is so tight. I have to have a win for next fiscal year.” She looks apologetic. “I hope you’re okay with some all-nighters.”

I sit next to her, wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her close to me. I place a kiss on her temple. “Valkyrie, it’ll be my honor.”

She laughs. “Seriously?”

“For real.”

I look down at her, see the glowing light in her blue eyes. They were arctic when I first saw her. I chalked it up to her being cold, but she kept them frozen and still so they’d betray nothing. Now I see so many things glittering underneath—anxiety, relief, grief, regret, apology and gratitude. It’s the last one that twists my gut, because I’m not worthy of it.


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