Iwake to my phone buzzing relentlessly on the nightstand. Luc's already awake beside me, one arm still wrapped around my waist, the other reaching for his own phone.
"News broke," he says, voice rough from sleep. "The FBI just released the press conference schedule."
I grab my phone. The screen floods with notifications. News alerts, texts from Henry, messages from board members I haven't heard from in weeks. All of them reacting to the same headline scrolling across every major outlet.
Oil Executive Armand Deveraux Arrested on Federal Conspiracy Charges
The subheadlines are worse. A surveillance operation. A kidnapping conspiracy. A murder-for-hire. My uncle's carefully constructed reputation disintegrating in real-time across national media.
"The FBI's holding a press conference this morning," Luc says, scanning his screen. "Locke and Rivera. They're laying out the full case."
I should feel vindicated. Armand's arrest proves everything I told the board, everything Henry documented, everything Andyinvestigated. The criminal case against my uncle is solid. He's going to prison.
But my stomach twists anyway because I know what's coming next. The board won't care that I was the victim. They'll care about the exposure, the scandal, the fact that LaCroix Petroleum's name is attached to a federal conspiracy case.
"Coffee," I say, pushing myself upright. "I need coffee before I deal with this."
Luc's out of bed before I finish the sentence, pulling on jeans and heading downstairs. I grab my laptop and follow him down a few minutes later, already dreading the emails waiting in my inbox.
The kitchen smells like fresh coffee. Luc hands me a mug, cream already added. I sit at the table and open my laptop while he leans against the counter, his own phone in hand.
My inbox is a disaster. Dozens of new emails since last night, the unread count climbing. I scan the subject lines, looking for the ones that matter. There are three from Henry marked urgent. Two from the board chair. One from Patricia Moreau with the subject lineThoughts on Moving Forward.
I open Henry's first.
FBI press conference at 10 AM. Locke confirmed they're outlining the full criminal case. Surveillance operation, coordination with the late Julien LaSalle, evidence of murder-for-hire. This is good for us. Shows you were victimized, not complicit. Call me when you're up.
The second email is shorter.
Board chair called an emergency conference call for this afternoon. Mandatory attendance. Henry
The third makes my jaw clench.
Three board members called me last night. Patricia's been working the phones since the arrestnews broke. Angling to replace you as the stable alternative. We need to counter this fast. Henry
"Fuck," I mutter.
Luc looks up from his phone. "What?"
"Patricia Moreau is positioning herself to take my job." I turn the laptop so he can see Henry's email. "Emergency board call this afternoon. She's been working the phones since last night."
"The board knows you were the victim here."
"The board knows there's a federal conspiracy case with LaCroix Petroleum's name attached to it. They know there's surveillance footage of me at a BDSM club. They know the media is going to tear us apart for weeks." I take a long drink of coffee. "Patricia's going to argue that I'm too damaged to lead the company through this. That we need stable, scandal-free leadership."
"You going to let her?"
"No." The word comes out harder than I intend. "Armand wanted to destroy me. He coordinated years of surveillance, funded Julien's obsession, had you kidnapped. I'm not letting him win by stepping down now."
Luc's expression shifts into something darker, more satisfied. "Good."
My phone rings. Henry.
"I saw them," I answer.
"The FBI press conference is starting soon. You should watch it. They're laying out everything—the monitoring station at LaCroix Petroleum, Armand's access logs, the communications between him and Julien. This vindicates you publicly."
"And the board call?"
