The full magnitude of what she’d done crashed over her.
The silence stretched, unbearable and absolute.
“Mr. Beauchamp,” she started, her voice barely audible. “I can explain?—”
Andrew held up a hand, stopping her words. “I think you’ve explained quite enough, Ms. Sinclair.” He turned toward Ronan. “It seems we have matters to discuss.” Andrew turned and walked back toward the conference room, Ronan’s eyes met hers one last time across the shocked gathering. The betrayal and devastation she saw there would haunt her forever.
Without a word, he followed Andrew, leaving her standing alone in the center of the silent room.
Chapter 19
The silencethat followed him into the conference room. The sound of everything he’d built beginning to crumble.
He kept his spine straight, his expression impassive, a careful shield over the rage and disbelief churning inside him. Not at her. At himself. At the catastrophic series of miscalculations that had brought them to this moment.
Andrew stood at the window, facing the Manhattan skyline, silhouetted against the glass. When the door clicked shut behind them, he didn’t turn.
“How much of it was a lie?” he asked, his voice calm.
He had navigated hostile takeovers, weathered market crashes, stared down boardrooms of adversaries. None of it had prepared him for this—the disappointment of a man he respected.
“The engagement,” he answered. “Only the engagement.”
Andrew turned, his expression hidden by the late afternoon shadows. “Only?” He gave a humorless laugh. “You built an elaborate scheme to manipulate me into signing a multi-million-dollar investment deal, and you qualify it with ‘only?’” Each word landed with precision.
Andrew approached the conference table, his fingers tracing the folder containing the contract they’d signed an hour earlier. “Do you know why I chose Oath Capital? Out of all the investment opportunities that cross my desk every day?”
“Our growth projections. Our track record,” he answered, the response automatic, even as it rang false to him.
“No. Those made you a candidate. What sealed my decision was you.”
He hadn’t expected that. He waited, the control he prided himself on beginning to slip.
“I have watched your career for years,” Andrew continued. “Brilliant. Ruthless. Effective. But alone. A lone wolf building an empire.” His eyes met Ronan’s, sharp with disappointment. “Then you had a partner. Someone who softened your edges. I saw it at the gala—or thought I did. The way you two complemented each other.”
He tapped the contract with one finger. “It reminded me of Eleanor and myself. And I thought—he understands what sustains success. Not numbers, but connection. Partnership. More than yourself to work for.”
Andrew’s words stirred thoughts he’d kept hidden from himself these past weeks.
“I believed in the man I saw when you were with her,” Andrew continued, voice hard. “I invested in that man. But he doesn’t exist. He was nothing but another fabricated strategy.”
Ronan struggled for words. “It’s more complex than that.”
“Is it?” Andrew asked. “Enlighten me.”
How could he explain what he scarcely understood himself? The way the lines had blurred. That strange ache he’d felt when she’d stood in the center of the room and dismantled everything.
“I proposed the arrangement,” he admitted, the truth bitter. “A strategic decision to secure your investment. But—” He hesitated. “Everything changed.”
Andrew’s expression remained skeptical. “Changed how?”
“I don’t know,” he said, the admission costing him more than he could calculate. His control was slipping, sliding away.
“Between lies and truth?” Andrew suggested, voice sharp.
“It started as an act but somewhere along the way it turned into…” He trailed off. “The engagement was fabricated. But what developed between us wasn’t.”
Andrew studied him in silence, assessing. Then he opened the contract folder, flipping through the pages until he found what he was looking for. His finger tapped a section of dense legal text.
