Charles closes his laptop with a decisive click. “Unless anyone has additional concerns, I think we’re done here. Ryan, excellent work this quarter. Keep me updated on any developments.”
“Will do.” Ryan stands, offering his hand across the table again. This time to me. “Parker, it was really great seeing you again. I’m glad you’re back.”
I shake his hand—brief, professional. “Thank you.”
“And seriously,” he adds, lowering his voice slightly. “If you need anything. Local recommendations, someone to show you around since you’ve been gone so long, or just a friendly face—I’m around.”
“I appreciate that.”
He holds my gaze for a beat too long before releasing my hand and gathering his things. His team files out behind him, Linda shooting me an appraising look that feels less hostile than curious.
The door closes behind them, leaving just Charles and me in the boardroom.
“Well,” he says, standing and stretching. “That went better than expected. You handled yourself perfectly.”
“Thanks.” I gather my notes, trying to ignore the prickling awareness of being observed. “Ryan seems nice.”
“He is. Smart, ambitious, but reasonable.” Charles checks his watch, then turns to look at me fully. His expression shifts—still proud, but something more serious underneath. “Parks, I need to head to Charlotte. Check on our operations there. But before I go?—”
He pauses, choosing his words carefully.
“The meetings this afternoon with the Dents, Ramirezes, and McCoys—they’re going to be different than this one.”
“Different how?”
“Ryan’s young. He took over recently, like me. He’s part of the new guard that wants to modernize, evolve. The others—” Charles sighs. “They’re old school. They knew Dad. They remember when you left. And they’ve heard the rumors.”
My stomach tightens. “What rumors?”
“Everything from you having an affair with a rival organization to Dad killing you for betraying the family. That your kids are illegitimate heirs to some enemy syndicate. That you’re a liability. A weakness.” His green eyes—so like mine—hold steady. “You need to shut that down. Not by defending yourself, but by showing them who you are. What you’re capable of.”
“Without you there to back me up.”
“Without me there,” he confirms. “Because if they only respect you when I’m in the room, then they don’t actually respect you. They respect my position.”
I process this. The test. The challenge.
“Jace will be with you,” Charles continues. “He’ll handle the operational discussions, the enforcement side of things. But the perception management, the reading people, the strategic positioning—that’s all you. Show them why I made you Chief Strategic Officer. Show them that Parker Carter isn’t someone to dismiss or underestimate.”
“No pressure,” I mutter.
“You can handle it.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “You handled Ryan perfectly. You reframed the Charleston expansion in a way that made everyone rethink their assumptions. You’ve got this.”
“And if they ask questions I don’t want to answer? About where I’ve been, who the boys’ father is, what my loyalties are?”
“Then you redirect. You control the narrative. You remind them that your personal life is none of their business, but your strategic value to this organization is undeniable.” His smile turns sharp. “You’re a Carter, Parks. Act like it.”
The door to the observation room opens.
Jace emerges first—controlled, professional, but there’s something tight around his eyes. Cal follows, that amused smirk firmly in place. And then Silas.
Silas looks at me like he’s deciding whether to kiss me or throw Ryan Matthews off the building.
Possibly both.
“So,” Cal says, breaking the silence. “Coffee. How romantic.”
“It’s not romantic. It’s networking,” I say firmly.
