The elevator chimes. The doors open.
And I step into my new life, ready or not.
24
PARKER
The boardroom is exactly what I expected—all dark wood and leather chairs, windows overlooking the harbor where ships move cargo that’s probably only half-legal. The table could seat twenty, but today there are only ten people: Charles at the head, me beside him, and eight members of Ryan Matthews’s shipping operation spread across both sides.
Ryan sits directly across from me, flanked by his CFO and operations manager. He’s handsome in that clean-cut, all-American way—sandy brown hair styled with expensive product, suit that screams custom-tailored. Confident stride when he entered. Easy smile.
When his eyes landed on me, recognition flickered. Then surprise. Then something that looked like genuine pleasure.
“Parker Carter.” He’d offered his hand across the table, warm and firm. “Wow. It’s been—what? Over ten years?”
“Something like that.” I keep my voice neutral.
“You look amazing.” His smile is friendly. Familiar in a way that suggests we knew each other better than we actually did. “Iheard you were back. Charles mentioned you’d taken a position with the organization.”
“Chief Strategic Officer,” Charles clarifies, his tone making it clear this isn’t honorary. “Parker’s here to help us navigate the modernization of our operations. Bring us into the twenty-first century with cleaner business practices and better public relations.”
“Smart move.” Ryan’s eyes haven’t left my face. There’s warmth there. Interest. “Your background in behavioral psychology must be invaluable in negotiations.”
I feel rather than see the three men positioned in the observation room adjacent to the boardroom. Floor-to-ceiling glass that’s currently dimmed to one-way, giving them a perfect view of this meeting while remaining invisible to everyone inside.
Jace will be watching with that careful assessment, cataloging Ryan’s body language, calculating threat levels.
Cal will be amused, probably lounging in a chair with that knowing smirk.
And Silas... Silas will be radiating silent menace at a man who dared to look at me like that. He’s probably thinking of all the ways he can use a damn stapler on Ryan just for smiling towards me.
“It has its uses,” I say carefully. “Understanding what motivates people, what they’re afraid of, what they want—it’s helpful in any business.”
“I bet.” Ryan leans forward slightly. “It’s good to see you back. There were rumors—” He stops himself, glancing at Charles.
“Rumors?” I keep my voice even, curious. Not defensive.
Ryan’s CFO—an older man named George something—clears his throat. “Just speculation, Ms. Carter. You know how people talk when someone from a prominent family disappears suddenly. Some said you’d left to start a family. Others thought—” He hesitates.
“Thought what?” I press gently.
“That there’d been a falling out with your father,” Ryan finishes diplomatically. “Given Dominic’s...reputation, people assumed the worst.”
Charles’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. This is part of it. Part of what I’ll face in every meeting today.
“My father and I had philosophical differences,” I say calmly. “About how this organization should operate. How we should treat people, both inside and outside the family. I left to build a life on my own terms, raise my sons without those influences.”
“Sons,” Ryan repeats, and there’s genuine interest in his voice. “Charles mentioned you have twins?”
“Two boys. They’re five.”
“That must be incredible.” His smile softens. “And their father?”
The question hangs in the air—polite curiosity or calculated probe? I can’t quite tell.
“Not in the picture,” I say smoothly. The practiced response.
George leans back, exchanging glances with the woman beside him—Ryan’s operations manager, I think. They’re assessing. Calculating. Wondering if the single mother of mystery children equals a liability or an asset.
