She stares at me for a long moment. Then something shifts in her expression—resignation, maybe. Or just exhaustion.
"You're right about one thing," she says quietly. "This is over. Not because you're ending it. Because I'm done fighting for someone who won't fight for himself."
She opens the door, pauses with her hand on the frame.
"I hope your control keeps you warm at night, Daniel. Because that's all you're going to have."
Then she's gone.
The door closes with a soft click that echoes through the empty penthouse.
I stand there, frozen, listening to the silence.
It's done. She'll hate me now. She'll move on. She'll be safe from the wreckage I would have caused if I'd let this continue.
I did the right thing. The smart thing. The only thing that would protect her from the inevitable destruction.
So why does it feel like I just destroyed the only good thing I've ever had?
I walk to the window, look out at the city lights blurring below. Somewhere down there, Bailey is driving home. Crying, probably. Hating me. Planning her exit from Williams Ventures and from my life.
This is what I wanted. What I needed.
My phone buzzes. Another text from Lottie about the board meeting. Another reminder of everything that's at stake.
I silence it without reading.
Because standing here in my empty penthouse, surrounded by all the control and safety I thought I needed, all I can think about is the way Bailey looked at me before she left.
Like I'd become exactly what she'd feared I would be.
And maybe I have.
I pour the scotch I've been ignoring all night. Down it in one swallow.
The burn does nothing to ease the hollow ache in my chest.
I just protected Bailey from my father's legacy by becoming it.
The irony would be funny if it didn't hurt so much.
19
Bailey
The door closes behind me with a soft click—not a slam, not a dramatic exit. Just the quiet, final sound of something ending.
I make it to the elevator. Press the button. Wait while the longest ten seconds of my life tick past.
The doors open. I step inside.
Only when the elevator starts descending do I let myself feel it. The full weight of what just happened crashes over me like a wave.
He destroyed us. Destroyed me.
And I'm carrying his child.
My hand presses against my stomach. The secret I came here to tell him burns in my throat, unspoken. How can I tell him now? How can I tell a man who just called me a liability that I'm pregnant with his baby?
