Page 113 of Succumbed

I look from him to Shane, my Adam’s apple bobbing. “We did.”

Lex wanders over, a soft smile on her lips as she regards us. Linc offers her a badge, which she loops over her head without hesitation. My eyes drop to the bold black letters under her name.

“It says Athena Ventures.”

She glances down. “So it does. Should it say something different?”

“I…no. I suppose not.” It feels wrong for her to be here representing Athena and not Solum. She belongs with us.

The thought catches me by surprise and I blink rapidly, overwhelmed with emotion.

“Solum’s yours, Declan. I’m just here to celebrate your success.”

Clearing my throat, I stare hard at the badge in my hands. “Thank you,” I manage, voice raw.

“Don’t thank me. Thank yourselves.”

Linc grins as Shane ducks his head, hiding his smile.

“No, Lex,” I press, meeting her gaze. “We wouldn’t be here without you. And whatever happens in there today…” I swallow roughly, my voice trailing to nothing as nerves and hope and wicked want momentarily overwhelm me.

Lex grips my forearm. “Declan, don’t–”

“I’m grateful.” Her expression softens at my insistent words. “I’m so fucking grateful, Lex. For your team, for Athena. But mostly for you.”

Silence falls in our small circle as warmth gathers in my chest. Lex’s fingers on my sleeve may as well be a brand for how they sear straight to my soul.

“Wow, brother. Paris really is magic,” Linc quips, breaking the growing tension.

Chuckling, I take a deep breath to ground myself, staring once again at the badge in my hands. I’m vaguely aware of Lex saying something to Linc and Shane before walking away, leaving the three of us in the welcome lobby.

“We should go catch the opening ceremonies,” Linc suggests, stepping toward the main theater of the Palais des Congrès.

“Yeah,” I mutter absently, draping the lanyard over my head as I follow him and Shane. Lex’s touch lingers.

The convention center hums, the crowd lively with first-day energy. As we move toward the main theater, a familiar grating laugh breaks out just ahead. Linc’s spine snaps straight as he glances toward the noise. The crowd parts, and there the bitch is.

As though aware of our presence, Anne-Marie Townsend turns to look over her shoulder, harsh brown eyes zeroing in on me. Surprise flickers in her gaze before it sharpens to determination, and she turns back to her small audience.

“That didn’t take long,” Linc mutters, moving to go wide of Anne-Marie.

I assume she won’t let us by so easily. A second later, she proves me right.

“Lincoln Wilde,” she calls, one hand on her hip. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Of course it’s my brother she targets first. His shoulders are tight as he turns to give her a flat look. He doesn’t speak, and the small group around her exchange raised eyebrows as he regards her stonily. Anne-Marie cocks her head, then turns to Shane.

“Shane, I’m surprised to see you. I thought you would’ve slunk back to Seattle with your tail between your legs long before now.”

“Why? We’ve been on the agenda for months.”

She blinks, seemingly taken aback by his cool response. It’s further proof she never paid attention to anyone other than herself–Shane’s retort is laughably on-brand. Her lips part, then purse, her gaze finally landing on me.

“Declan.”

“Anne-Marie.”

“I’m looking forward to hearing more about your tech. Pity you’re going after us, though. I’ll just be stealing your thunder.” Her eyes flash with triumph at the chuckles from her audience.

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