He smiled like I'd given something away. "See, that's exactly what I mean. That defensiveness. It reads as—" Another pause. "Emotional."
The word landed like a slap.
"I'd recommend softening your delivery. Asking more questions instead of making statements." He leaned back, spreading his hands. "Perception matters, Emma. Especially for someone in your... situation."
"My situation?"
"New to the company. Closely associated with the CEO." His gaze glittered. "People talk. You'll want to make sure your contributions speak louder than the rumors."
I went cold.
Closely associated.
My mind raced through every interaction, every glance, every moment we might have slipped.
"I'm not sure what you're implying," I said, voice steadier than the earthquake happening inside my chest.
Nathan's smile didn't waver. "I'm not implying anything. Just stating facts." He tilted his head, studying me like a specimen. "You came in as part of the merger. Damien personally advocated for your board seat. For these... generous terms." He let the words hang. "People notice patterns, Emma. That's all."
Breath. Don't react.
"Mr. Holt advocated for the terms because they were fair," I said. "Because Elion's value warranted them."
"Of course." He nodded, placating. "Now. Speaking of Elion's value..."
Dread pooled in my gut.
"I mentioned some discrepancies during your first week," he continued, flipping open a thicker folder. "I thought it might be helpful to review them together. Clear up any... confusion."
He slid a stack of papers across the desk.
I picked them up, expecting to see the numbers I knew by heart. The projections I'd agonized over. The figures the media had claimed were faked by Davidson to sabotage the merger—to save himself the embarrassment of pulling out.
That had been the story. The neat little bow Damien had tied around the whole ugly mess.
But these weren't those numbers.
Revenue projections—inflated by nearly forty percent. Growth forecasts that painted Elion as a company twice as healthy as the one I'd actually run.
My vision blurred at the edges.
What the hell did you do, Damien?
"As you can see," Nathan said, watching me with the patience of a cat at a mouse hole, "the audit Falkirk received was... optimistic. Significantly more so than the metrics I saw during the beginning of our discussions."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
He'd falsified documents. For me. To protect me. To make sure the merger went through on terms that favored Elion.
And Nathan knew.
"I'm sure there's an explanation," Nathan continued, that slick smile spreading. "I'd love to hear it."
My pulse thundered in my ears. The papers trembled in my hands—barely, but enough.
I set them down, flattening my palm against the desk.
Don't give him anything.My teeth pressed together hard enough to ache.
