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“Tomorrow’s meeting is at eight-thirty with the announcement coming thirty minutes later,” he said to my back. “Conference Room A.”

I nodded once, but I didn’t give him the benefit of my full attention. I heard him sigh heavily just before he walked out of my office. When I heard the soft click of my door closing, it was then that everything snapped.

For sixty seconds, I allowed myself to feel everything. Betrayal, rage, fear all crashed over me in waves. My hands gripped the edge of the windowsill until my knuckles turned white. Cain Ashcroft. The name repeated in my head like a warning bell. The man was a corporate predator who dismantled companies in order to extract what he wanted and didn’t give a damn about the rest.

And tomorrow he would be here, in my building, announcing that Prescott Vantage, the company I’d put my blood, sweat, and tears into, was his latest acquisition.

I took a deep breath, then another to try to calm my racing heart. The moment of weakness passed, replaced by something harder and colder. I returned to my desk and opened my laptop. The client brief I’d been working on stared back at me; it suddenly meant nothing compared to what I was facing.

I pulled up our company’s financial reports instead, scanning through them while trying to make sense out of all of this. What had Ashcroft seen that made us valuable? What was his angle?

But nothing in our statements had changed, which meant Ashcroft saw something I was missing. Was it our client list? Our intellectual property? Or was it just another move in whatever elaborate chess game he was playing that I wanted no part of? I needed to understand his strategy before I could formulate my own.

Because I would have a plan. I hadn’t spent a decade building this place into something remarkable only to watch it be carved up and distributed among Ashcroft’s existing holdings. If Cain thought I would smile politely and accept whatever role he deigned to preserve for me, he was about to learn otherwise.

7

CAIN

The lobby of the building where Prescott Vantage was located was exactly what I expected. It somewhat reminded me of Ashcroft Group’s headquarters but not as updated. Not to mention, here there was a reception desk staffed by someone who looked up when I entered with an expression that told me she’d been briefed on my arrival. I didn’t acknowledge her because I didn’t need to. There was a security guard who stood at attention near the elevator bank as I approached. When I walked past him, I noticed his posture straighten further. The effect I had on people never ceased to amuse me.

The elevator was waiting, as if it knew I was coming. As the doors closed, I adjusted my cufflinks and studied my reflection in the polished metal. Impeccable suit, not a hair out of place. I looked every bit the titan that I claimed to be and rightfully so. When the doors opened on the fourteenth floor, I stepped into a corridor that was significantly less impressive than what I was accustomed to. The lighting was just okay and the carpet showed signs of wear in high-traffic areas. All things that would change soon enough.

I was met by Howard Prescott himself. “Cain,” he said while extending his hand. “Thank you for coming personally.”

“Howard,” I replied, making sure my handshake was strong but brief. I could feel the slight tremor in his grip that hadn’t been there during our dinner. Nerves, most likely. “I make it a point to be present for significant acquisitions.”

Howard’s smile was tight and practiced. “Of course. Everyone’s assembled in Conference Room A. If you’ll follow me…”

I fell into step beside him, nonchalantly studying his profile as we walked. The man looked older than he had just days ago at dinner. The weight of his decision was etched into the new lines around his eyes. I’d seen it before—the moment when a founder realized they’d truly given up control of their life’s work. Some found it liberating. Howard clearly didn’t.

“How’s the team taking the news?” I asked, though I didn’t particularly care. The question was meant to fill the silence and gauge his emotional state.

“Professionally,” he answered after thinking about it for a split second. “They understand this is a strategic move.”

I almost laughed. No, they didn’t understand anything yet, but they would. Very quickly.

We approached the conference room, and I swear I could already feel the tension radiating from behind the closed door. Just as we reached it, Howard stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

I spoke before he had the chance to. “They’ll adjust. Change is inevitable in this industry and everything is going to work out the way it was meant to.” I didn’t add “under my control” but the subtext was clear.

Howard nodded weakly and pushed open the door. The conversation inside immediately ceased as all eyes landed on us. I walked in behind Howard, studying the room and everyone in it. There were about fifteen people seated around the table, their expressions ranging from curious, to scared, to angry. Their emotions were all understandable but I only truly cared about one.

Sutton Prescott sat directly across from the head of the table. She was sitting up as straight as a rod and her gaze showed none of what I’m sure she was feeling beneath the calm surface she had on display. When our eyes met, I saw a quick flash of panic before she schooled her features once more. I was willing to bet she was reliving our meeting at the fundraiser, how we’d gone tit-for-tat, and how I secretly wanted more of it.

Just before I completely and utterly destroyed her.

I took my place at the head of the table, deliberately choosing not to look at her again immediately. Let her wonder if she made a blip on my radar. Howard settled into the chair to my left. “Good morning,” I said as I addressed the room. “I trust Howard has briefed you on why I’m here today.”

Heads nodded around the table, but I noticed several people exchanging glances and I didn’t blame them. The tension in the room was thick and went beyond the norm. Good. I believed that a little healthy fear kept people honest and productive.

“For those who haven’t been fully briefed,” I continued, “Ashcroft Group has acquired Prescott Vantage, effective immediately. The public announcement will be made in approximately”—I checked my watch—“twenty-seven minutes.”

I scanned the faces around the table, deliberately making eye contact with each person before moving to the next. It was a technique I’d perfected over decades of corporate takeovers. Let them feel seen because that’s what most humans wanted anyway. When I finally allowed my gaze to land on Sutton, I held it there a beat longer than necessary.

“This transition will be seamless for your clients,” I said, still looking directly at her. “Ashcroft Group values the reputation Prescott Vantage has built in the public relations sector.”

Sutton’s jaw tightened, but her gaze stayed on me. I admired the fact that she refused to look away first. Most people cracked under my scrutiny within seconds.