Page 6 of If the Ring Fits

Preston shifts beside me. “Of course, sir. My wife and kids will be delighted.”

I suppress a smirk. Preston’s picture-perfect family-man image won’t help him here. “Count me in,” I announce. “Though I’ll be coming solo.” No time for attachments in my world.

Dominic nods, already reaching for his phone. “Excellent. My assistant will send over the details.” He waves a hand in clear dismissal.

Considering how monumental the announcement was, it took a record short time to deliver. But Dominic, like me, is all about efficiency.

Mind still reeling, I follow Preston out, making calculations. A weekend in the Hamptons, schmoozing with the boss. I can do that in my sleep. Really, Preston has no chance.

I walk beside him toward the elevators, his mop shining under the fluorescent lights, my mind already narrowing on all the steps I need to take to impress Dominic and lock the promotion in. I should start by telling him we closed Calloway this morning.

I stop halfway down the hall. “Hey Preston, you go on ahead. I have to clarify something with Dominic.”

The CFO nods. “Sure thing. See you downstairs, Adrian.” He steps into the open elevator.

I stalk back toward Dominic’s office. His door is slightly ajar. I’m about to knock when his secretary’s voice drifts out.

“I don’t understand, sir. Why put on this contest if you’ve already decided who to name as your successor?”

My hand freezes inches from the door as my heartbeat thunders in my ears. Could it be that Dominic isn’t just choosing a replacement, but an heir? He has no children and isn’t romantically attached to anyone that I know of. Could the company—Dominic’s entire legacy—be up for grabs?

Dominic chuckles. “Well, between you and me, Adrian is the obvious choice for driving profits. The man’s a machine.”

A grin spreads across my face. I knew it! My relentless work ethic, the grueling hours I’ve put in to bringing this firm to greatness—it’s all paying off. I’m about to burst into Dominic’s office and shake his hand when his next words stop me cold.

“…But Adrian, he’s too much like me. Ruthless. No family, no life outside this place. I don’t want to pass down my life’s work to someone who will repeat my mistakes and leave no legacy behind besides a pile of cash.”

My mouth goes dry as Dominic’s voice drops to a heavy sigh. “No, it’ll have to be Preston in the end. The company needs someone with roots. Someone with children who wants to make the world a better place for them. Unless Adrian proves I’ve misjudged him, that’s how things will go.”

Children? Make the world a better place? Who is this man talking? Not the cutthroat founder of our multi-billion-dollar fund. The Dominic I know is a cold-blooded killer. This Dominic, will he start to sing “Kumbaya” next?

My head spins as I back away from the door in a daze. I bled for this company, lost pieces of myself along the way… and now I’m being told it’s not enough? Anger simmers under the shock as I turn on my heel and make a run for it. I burst past the stairs’ emergency entrance, too agitated to wait for a fucking elevator.

On my floor, I crash into my office and slam the door behind me, heart pounding. A few quick flicks of my fingers and I’ve loosened the knot of my tie as I pace back and forth. This can’t be happening—I’m the better man for the job, no question. I worked my way up from nothing to get here. And now Dominic is going to pass me over for the promotion because what, I don’t have kids? Where’s the justice in that?

I collapse into my chair, my hands clawing through my hair as I glance at the neatly stacked folders on my desk, the product of endless late nights. With an angry shove, I swipe the entire pile to the floor. Papers fly everywhere. I should hand in my resignation right away.

I wheel closer to my computer and I’m already opening a blank document to write my notice, when I hesitate, fingers poised on the keyboard. The cursor blinks, waiting for me to type the words that will set me free. But the thought of stepping away—of walking into the unknown—before I have another job lined up keeps me frozen. I started working after-school jobs when I was fourteen, and I haven’t gone a day since then being unemployed. I know too well what it feels like to have nothing—to struggle in ways I swore I’d never let myself face again.

Not having a job is not an option. But the idea of having to start fresh at a new place, to have to prove myself all over again feels like too much. Next year, I’ll turn forty, I’m at a time in my life when I should be collecting the fruits of my hard work, not having to start from scratch.

Should I just flip the bird to everyone, retire early on an island somewhere in the Caribbean, and just manage my investments? I’ve made millions in my years at Fulton. How much more do I need?

But it’s not really the need for more money that keeps mehere—a cog churning in the wheel—is it? It’s more the fear of losing it all. Which could happen overnight. The stock market could crash at any moment. Volatility has never been higher; 2008 has proven not even real estate is safe. The pandemic has done the same for oil and natural gas. And with the global turmoil of the last few years, even safe-haven assets have been on a roller coaster of ups and downs.

Despite the uncertain economy, I probably won’t loseallmy money in the blink of an eye, but the idea of being jobless—like my father—even for a single day, rips through me like a live wire, electrifying every muscle, leaving me paralyzed, my breath locking in my lungs as blood roars in my ears.

I’m still blocked, when a new email pops up in my inbox. It’s the invitation to the company retreat in the Hamptons. Without thinking, I click “RSVP” and select “plus one.” What am I doing? I don’t have anyone to bring. But some irrational part of my brain tells me this is my chance to prove myself, kids or no kids.

I hit send, and lean back in my chair closing my eyes. I reopen them a heartbeat later only to stare at the ceiling. Around me, the wide windows of my office, once a symbol of my success, feel like they’re mocking me. Like the entire city out there is poking fun at me.

A minute or an hour later, I couldn’t tell, my landline rings. It’s Dominic’s direct line. I swallow my apprehension and answer.

“Adrian! I just saw your RSVP. I thought you said earlier you were coming alone?”

My palm goes clammy against the receiver, and I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. If Dominic wants a legacy, I’ll give him one. “Oh, right. The thing is…” I pull in a wobbly breath. “I’m bringing my fiancée.”

“Your fiancée?”

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