"And I'm grateful for that every day," I responded with a smile just as practiced as hers, placing my other hand protectively on Julian's shoulder. The move was instinctive, but I felt him lean into the touch slightly, a silent acknowledgment of my support.
Elizabeth's smile tightened, but before she could respond, Julian smoothly reclaimed control of the meeting, his voice dropping to that authoritative register that seemed to command immediate attention.
As the meeting progressed, the discussion turned to Harris Pharmaceuticals' aggressive market moves. Financial terms flew over my head, but I understood enough to know that Harris was attempting to leverage Julian's competitors against him.
"Their most recent filings indicate a concerted effort to undermine our position in the medical technology sector," one of the board members was saying, when Elizabeth cleared her throat delicately.
"I hesitate to mention this," she said, in a tone that suggested she didn't hesitate at all, "but I wonder if Julian's judgment might be compromised by recent... personal entanglements." Her eyes flicked meaningfully in my direction, letting everyone know exactly what she meant. "Given the timing of this sudden marriage and Harris's interest in Montgomery Industries, some concerns have been raised."
I felt rather than saw Julian's anger—the slight stiffening of his shoulders under my hand, the whitening of his knuckles on his armrests. But when he spoke, his voice was ice-cold and perfectly controlled.
"My personal life has never affected my business acumen, Elizabeth. Unlike some, I don't confuse the two." The subtle reminder of their past relationship hung in the air. "And as for Harris's interest in Montgomery Industries, I believe this explains it rather thoroughly."
He tapped something on the embedded screen in front of him, and suddenly every display in the room filled with documents—financial records, clinical trials, spreadsheets with coded names that I recognized from Delancy's investigation.
"This is what Harris has been hiding," Julian explained, his voice steady as the board members leaned forward in shock. "Evidence of pharmaceutical fraud, illegal human testing, and cover-ups that would destroy not only his company but land him in prison. And it's why he's so desperate to silence anyone who might expose him."
The room erupted in murmurs as the board members digested the implications. I barely heard them. My stomach dropped as a terrible realization hit me—I wasn't just merchandise to Harris. I wasn't just a body to be used and discarded like the others.
I was a witness, a loose end, and Harris wanted me silenced just like all the others who had disappeared into his properties, never to return.
Julian's hand found mine under the table, squeezing once. "You okay?" he murmured, his focus somehow remaining split between the board's reaction and my wellbeing.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. The truth was terrifying, but Julian's quiet strength beside me was unwavering. Whatever Harris had planned, we would face it together.
I squeezed Julian's hand back, a silent promise that matched the one he'd made to me. I was a Montgomery now, and we protected our own.
I watched the board members file out of the room with expressions ranging from stunned to determined. Julian had just pulled off what I could only describe as a corporate miracle—turning a potential coup into unanimous support for his strategy against Harris.
His presentation of the evidence had been masterful, calculated for maximum impact without revealing exactly how we'd obtained it.
I felt a ridiculous surge of pride watching him shake hands with the last lingering board member, as if I had anything to do with his business acumen.
But there was something intoxicating about being associated with someone so utterly competent, so completely in control of his domain.
"Motion carries unanimously," Miles had announced just minutes earlier, his voice betraying a hint of impressed surprise. "The board authorizes CEO Montgomery to proceed with the strategy against Harris Pharmaceuticals as outlined, with full discretionary power regarding resource allocation."
Translation: Julian had just been handed a blank check and complete authority to go after Harris. The victory was absolute.
I'd watched Julian's face during the vote—not a flicker of smugness or relief, just that same calm confidence, as if the outcome had never been in doubt.
The only tell was the slight relaxation of his shoulders once the votes were tallied, a tension releasing that I hadn't even realized he was carrying.
As we prepared to leave, I caught Elizabeth watching Julian with an expression I couldn't quite decipher—something between calculation and regret. When she noticed me observing her, her perfect features arranged themselves into polite indifference.
Julian maneuvered his wheelchair toward the door with practiced ease, nodding farewell to the remaining board members. I followed, still feeling like an impostor in my borrowed suit, walking among people who probably spent more on lunch than I used to make in a week at the bookstore.
"I need to speak with Davidson about the European markets," Julian said to me as we entered the corridor outside the boardroom. "It won't take long. Feel free to wait by the executive elevator—Michael will show you."
As if summoned by his name, Michael materialized beside us, a dark-suited sentinel ready to escort me.
"I'll be fine," I assured Julian, squeezing his shoulder lightly. The casual intimacy of the gesture felt both foreign and natural at the same time.
Julian nodded, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary before he wheeled himself toward a silver-haired man waiting further down the hallway.
I started toward the elevator bay, Michael a respectful distance behind me. The corridor was lined with abstract art pieces that probably cost more than my entire education, their splashes of color the only relief from the sleek, corporate minimalism.
"Connor."
