The mahogany table stretches endlessly before me, its polished surface reflecting the gray Manhattan sky pressing against floor-to-ceiling windows.
I trace my finger along the cool wood, counting the empty chairs that should be filled with board members in twenty minutes. Twenty-seven seats. Twenty-seven voices that will dissect quarterly reports and profit margins while I sit here feeling like a fraud in a designer suit.
Two months. Two months since I left Briarhaven. Leftthem. And every day feels like I'm slowly suffocating in silk scarves and shareholder meetings.
The irony isn't lost on me. I spent two years running from a cage, only to build myself a prettier one with corner offices and executive assistants.
Sure, I've hired the best CEO money can buy. Sure, I've assembled a board I actually trust.
But sitting here in this sterile tower, surrounded by the hum of air conditioning and the distant honking of traffic, all I can think about is the sound of wind through Montana pines and the way Gabriel's laugh rumbled like distant thunder.
Stop it, Lucy.I press my palms flat against the table, feeling the cool bite of the surface anchor me to reality.This is your life now.
My phone buzzes with another text from my assistant Diana about catering preferences for today's meeting. I should care about whether we serve artisanal croissants or imported Danish, but all I can think about is Beau's coffee, strong enough to wake the dead, served in chipped mugs that had seen more life than this entire building.
They tried to reach you,my conscience whispers.You're the one who told Diana to tell them to "politely fuck off" when they called.
Yeah, well. I was drowning in lawyers and legacy and learning how to run an empire I never wanted. I was overwhelmed and terrified and missing them so badly I could barely breathe.
So I did what I always do.
I built walls and pretended I was fine.
Now they've gone radio silent, and I can't blame them. Who wants to chase a woman who keeps running?
The boardroom door opens with a soft whoosh, and I straighten in my chair, expecting Diana with her usualpre-meeting briefings. Instead, she pokes her head in with a grin that looks suspiciously like mischief.
"Miss Kensington? You have some... visitors."
Before I can ask what that cryptic smile means, she's stepping aside, and my heart stops dead in my chest.
Three men fill the doorway like they own it. Three men in worn Wranglers and scuffed boots, cowboy hats in hand, looking so out of place in this glass-and-steel monument to corporate power that they might as well be mythical creatures.
But they're real. They'rehere. And they're staring at me like I'm the only thing in this room worth looking at.
Beau stands in the center, every inch the commanding presence I remember, his gray eyes finding mine and holding steady.
To his left, Colt shifts his weight, green eyes blazing with that familiar intensity that used to make my knees weak.
And Gabriel, stands like a wall of controlled power, his deep blue gaze drinking me in like he's been starving.
For a moment, nobody speaks. The only sound is my heart hammering against my ribs and the distant buzz of the city forty floors below.
Then Beau steps forward, slow and deliberate, and when he speaks, his voice carries that same quiet authority that used to unravel me completely.
"We're here to answer your question, sunshine."
My throat feels like sandpaper. "What question?"
"The one you asked before you left." Colt's voice is rougher than I remember, edged with something that might be pain or hope or both. "How can we make it right again?"
Behind them, Diana is already moving toward the massive screen that usually displays profit margins and market analyses. Gabriel follows her, pulling a pen from his pocket and handing it to her, and I watch in stunned silence as they set up some kind of presentation.
"What are you—"
"Actions speak louder than words," Colt cuts me off, settling into a chair across from me.
"Since you're a powerful businesswoman now, we figured we'd do this your way."
