She was carving him up with a smile and a pen, and I almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
“Mr.Bell,” I said, before he could recover. “You’re right—Elion’s smaller. But the technology is the backbone of this merger. Without it, scale is irrelevant.”
He shot me a look that could have cracked glass. “I’m suggesting we don’t set a dangerous precedent.”
“Precedent?” Emma tilted her head, that sharp edge returning. “For what? Equality?”
The question landed gentle as silk and sharp as a knife. Even I had to bite back a laugh.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly.
“I’m sure it isn’t,” she replied, satisfaction flashing across her features before she dropped her attention back to her notes, dismissing him with the smallest movement.
He wasn’t finished.
“Damien,” Nathan said, voice oily. “Do you mind if we have a quick word?”
I blinked once. Bold. Dragging a superior out of his own meeting was the kind of move that usually ended careers. It might have ended his, if he weren’t insulated by six signatures on a board ledger.
Brave. Reckless. Predictable.
I considered shutting him down, forcing him to sit and remember his place. But if I did, he’d just shift tactics and find another outlet—one that started with Emma and ended with collateral damage.
So I rose, smooth and controlled. “Please, excuse us,” I said to the table.
Emma’s eyes cut to mine, quick and questioning. I tried to send something through the space between us—I’m sorry, I’ve got it—but the faint furrow in her brow told me it hadn’t quite landed.
The door closed behind us with aclick. The hum of the room fell away, replaced by the low thrum of the hallway. Just the two of us now.
Nathan opened his mouth, but I was faster.
“What the fuck is this about, Nathan?” The words came out low, honed.
He laughed once, humorless. “What’s this about? What the fuck was that in there? Equality?” He spit the word out like it offended him.
“Yes. Equality.” My tone stayed deadly calm. “You should try it sometime. Might surprise you.”
His eyes narrowed, venom brightening in them. “You don’t have the authority to negotiate like this on your own.” He sneered. “Did you forget that?”
He wasn’t wrong. He was just irrelevant.
Technically, I didn’t have full clearance to sketch the structure alone. Pragmatically, I’d stopped caring thirty seconds into watching him line her up as a target.
A hard stillness settled along my features. “I didn’t forget,” I said, stepping closer. “I decided I’m done watching you treat her like she doesn’t deserve to be at the table.”
For a heartbeat, something shifted in his expression—surprise, maybe—but it vanished under the expression I’d wanted to wipe from his face for years.
“Oh, Damien.” He dragged my name out, voice slick. “You’ve always been very protective of women in business.”
Meant to sting. It landed like a compliment.
“Not protective,” I snapped, fingers curling at my sides. “Just not a misogynistic asshole.”
I forced my shoulders to loosen, hand running over my tie. Through the glass, I caught movement—Emma glancing between Maria and Tessa as the others made small talk, awareness in the tilt of her head.
His words dropped into a mock-casual drawl. “Are you implying something, Holt?”
