“I need to know something,” I said. “And I need honest answers. If this continues, if the attacks escalate, if it comes down to choosing between your business and this relationship—what would you choose?”
The question hung in the air.
Orion spoke first. “Six months ago, I would have said the business without hesitation. We’ve spent seventeen years building Olympus Royale. It’s been our entire lives, our identity, everything that matters.”
“And now?” I pressed.
“Now I know what it feels like to have something—someone—worth protecting more than profit margins and investor relations.” His voice was rough. “I’m not saying we’ll let the business fail. But I’m also not sacrificing you to save it.”
“Same,” Leo said. “I spent my whole adult life being the charming one, the face of the brand, never letting anyone see past the performance. And then you walked in and saw through all of it in about five minutes. That’s not something I’m willing to give up.”
Ares was quiet longer, his expression unreadable.
“I’ve spent twenty years being the tactical one,” he said finally. “The one who calculates risks and makes hard decisions and doesn’t let emotions cloud judgment. And strategically, tactically, the smart move would be exactly what you suggested—let you go, cut our losses, rebuild our reputations without the complication.”
My heart sank.
“But,” he continued, “I learned a long time ago that the smartest tactical decision isn’t always the right one. Sometimes you have to fight for things that don’t make strategic sense because they matter more than winning. You matter more than winning.”
I felt tears prickling behind my eyes and fought them back. “You say that now. But when the pressure really hits?—”
“Then we’ll deal with it together,” Orion said. “That’s what we’re asking you to believe. That we’re serious about this. About you. About building something that works even though it shouldn’t.”
My phone—which I’d turned back on—buzzed with another text from Marta:If you don’t call me in the next hour, I’m buying a plane ticket. I mean it.
I showed it to them. “My best friend. She knows something’s wrong but not what.”
“You should call her,” Leo said. “You need people outside this situation. People who care about you beyond the scandal.”
“What would I even say?”
“The truth,” Ares said simply. “That you’re in love with three men, it’s complicated as hell, and you need someone to talk to who isn’t directly involved.”
“I never said I was in love with you,” I pointed out.
“You didn’t have to,” Orion said. “It’s written all over your face every time you look at us.”
Was it that obvious? Could they really see past my defenses that easily?
“This is insane,” I said. “All of it. The relationship. The timing. The way we’re being attacked. Normal people don’t deal with this level of chaos.”
“Good thing we’re not normal people,” Leo said with a slight smile.
Despite everything—the stress, the fear, the uncertainty—I laughed. Because he was right. Nothing about this was normal. And maybe that was okay.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked. “Specifically. Not platitudes about fighting together, but actual next steps.”
“Neville’s tracking Henri’s financial trail,” Ares said. “Finding out who he’s working with and what they’re planning. We’ll know more in the next twenty-four hours.”
“Our lawyers are preparing responses to the Gaming Commission investigation,” Orion added. “Documenting the illegal surveillance, Marcus’s credibility issues, and the timeline of coordinated attacks. Building our defense.”
“And we’re meeting with our remaining investors tomorrow,” Leo said. “Being transparent about the situation, showing them our strategy for managing the crisis, giving them reasons to stay confident in our leadership.”
“What about me?” I asked. “What do I do besides sit here waiting?”
“You take care of yourself,” Orion said. “You call your friend. You eat actual meals. You stop reading news articles andsocial media comments. And you trust that we’re handling the business side while you focus on surviving the personal side.”
“I’m not good at sitting on the sidelines.”
