I set down my glass, meeting his gaze with cold precision. "That's not your concern, Fred. Your concern is following my instructions to the letter. Are we clear?"
He swallows hard, the greed in his eyes tempered by a flicker of fear. "Crystal clear, Mr. Hale."
"Good." I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. "I'll expect confirmation by eight o'clock tonight. Don't disappoint me."
I leave him there, already dismissed from my mind. He's just a tool, a means to an end. The company means nothing to me except as a lever to move Eve exactly where I need her.
And soon, very soon, she'll be exactly where she belongs.
***
I find her in the library later that evening. She's standing by the bookshelves, running her fingers along the spines of first editions I've collected over the years. She doesn't hear me enter, lost in her own thoughts.
"Looking for something to read?" I ask quietly.
She startles, turning to face me. "I thought I'd wait here. Your assistant said you'd be back soon."
"And here I am." I move closer, watching her back up slightly until she's pressed against the bookshelf. "Have you made your decision, Eve?"
Her eyes flash with defiance. "You haven't given me much of a choice."
"There's always a choice." I place my hand on the shelf beside her head, leaning in. "You can walk away. Lose everything. Start over from nothing. Or you can accept what you already know in your heart."
"And what's that?"
"That you want this." My voice drops to barely above a whisper. My one hand grabs her wrist and pulls it up, holding it firmly above her head. She pulls against me, but I know my little mouse needs this. "That part of you has been waiting for someone to see through all your walls, all your carefully constructed defenses. Someone who knows the real you. The lonely girl who lost everything she had and never found her way back."
Her breath hitches. "You don't know me."
"I know you better than anyone." I reach up with my free hand, cupping her face gently. "I know that you dream about Alex three times a week. I know that you visit his grave every month on the anniversary of the accident. I know that you keep his favorite book—The Odyssey—on your nightstand even though you've never been able to finish reading it since he died."
Tears well in her eyes. "Stop."
"I know that you're terrified of being vulnerable. That you built your empire not because you love fashion, but because you needed control over something after your entire world fell apart. And I know—" I lean closer, my lips nearly brushing her ear. "I know that Alex trusted me. That he loved me like a brother. And that if he were here, he would want me to take care of you."
A sob escapes her, and I feel her tremble against me, making me hard. "That's not fair."
"No," I agree softly. "But it's true. He made me promise, Eve. The night before the accident, we talked about the future. He made me swear that if anything ever happened to him, I'd watch over you. That I'd keep you safe."
She's crying now, silent tears streaming down her face. "He's gone. You both were supposed to be gone."
"I survived. And I've spent every day since then keeping that promise." I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. "Let me keep it, Eve. Let me protect you. Keep you safe. Give you everything you've ever wanted."
"At what cost?" she whispers.
"At the cost of your illusion of independence." I brush away her tears with my thumb. "But we both know that's already gone. The question is whether you'll accept the reality or keep fighting a battle you've already lost."
She closes her eyes, and I can almost see the last of her resistance crumbling. Soon, I think. So very soon.
Chapter 13 - Eve
My phone buzzes for the fourteenth time in an hour. Lucy. Again.
I stare at her name flashing on the screen, watching it ring and ring until it goes to voicemail. A few seconds later, another text appears in the thread of increasingly frantic messages.
"Eve, PLEASE. The board is calling an emergency meeting. Greyhound has the votes. We're losing the company. WHERE ARE YOU?!"
I should care. That's what a rational person would do—panic, scramble, fight to save the empire I built from nothing. But as I lie on my sofa, still wearing yesterday's clothes, I feel nothing but a strange, hollow calm that terrifies me more than the panic would.
