Ethan tilts his head, attention sharpening. "Emerging markets. Which ones specifically?"
"AI-driven cybersecurity and renewable energy. Both volatile, yes, but at the forefront of global innovation. With the right timing, massive opportunities for long-term growth."
His tapping stops, focus locked on me. There it is—the shift I waited for.
Finally, my last slide: Aggressive: Full Throttle. "For companies ready to push the envelope, this plan focuses on high-growth, high-reward opportunities. Small-cap stocks,renewable energy, disruptive tech—these are the arenas where leaders emerge."
Ethan's posture shifts completely. He leans forward, elbows on the table, full attention locked on me. "Disruptive tech. You're talking about risk-heavy investments."
"Exactly. But not reckless ones. This isn't about throwing money at every shiny innovation—it's about identifying game-changers before they hit the mainstream. Companies with potential to redefine industries. Like Vaultress has."
The corner of his mouth quirks up—the first hint of a smile. "And you think you can identify those game-changers?"
I meet his gaze head-on. "I know I can. Because I don't just look at numbers—I look at people. Their decisions, vision, grit. That's what makes or breaks an investment, what Vaultress needs to stay ahead. This plan isn't for the faint of heart, but neither is your company—or your great-grandmother."
Ethan leans back, lips curving into an almost amused smile. "Bold wins," he murmurs.
"Bold wins," I echo. "But only when paired with precision. That's where I come in."
The room falls silent. Ethan studies me, thumbs tapping together as if weighing every word. Finally, a glint appears in his eye. "You've given me a lot to think about."
He glances briefly at my father and Blake, both unnervingly quiet. My father's expression is neutral, but his gaze lingers thoughtfully.
Ethan rises. "I'll meet with my team and follow up during cocktails tonight on my decision."
As I gather my materials, my father catches my eye. He gives the faintest nod—subtle, almost imperceptible. But for him, it might as well be a standing ovation.
I don't let it show. I adjust my blazer, nod politely to Ethan, and walk out with my head high. Behind me, Blake mutters under his breath, but it's just noise.
This time, I don't need anyone's approval. I already know I'm the one they can't afford to lose.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Holly
The great roompulses with anticipation, holiday music drifting through speakers while fires roar with a soothing snap and pop. Flames dance in twin fireplaces. Through the windows, ski trails zigzag down the mountain like ribbons of light against the darkness.
Congregated at the bar, our family monopolizes one whole end in hushed conversation. My father keeps stealing glances at me, his face completely unreadable.
I have to wonder if it has anything to do with Blake leaving less than an hour after the presentations.
Chance smiles at me from behind his drink—the kind of smile holding secrets meant only for me.
It’s the smile that says,That’s my woman right there, I love her, and she’s mine.A smile I’ve never seen on him before. I’m willing to bet it’s new, created for me, and only for me. The same one he gave me at the Shred Shack when he leaned close andwhisperedhilike the word itself carried the weight of something more.
Everything about those two letters—what they say, what they leave unsaid—pulls me under where he deliversmy Hollylike a one-two punch, short-circuiting everything: lungs forgotten, knees buckling, heart on the verge of full rebellion.
Maybe today he’ll say it again, only this time it won’t be a whispered endearment tucked away from prying eyes.
It’ll be out loud, unapologetic, and in front of everyone.
A TKO for the ages, and I’ll be the one flat on the mat.
I smile back, keeping it subtle and not dialed to grab the hammer and let’s ride, when I catch a glimpse of Ethan making his way through the room, with his family in tow—a wife and three kids.
My heart knocks hard, a lump climbing right into my throat.
Nope. No freaking out.
