Dad’s voice echoes in my head.
Trust your instincts.
My instinct right now isn’t confrontation.
It’s vigilance. Strategy. Playing the long game.
I know about the SPEs. Christopher knows. His team is already working, discreetly, to defuse that bomb. Mark and Morgan think they hold a trump card, but its value is diminishing by the hour.
Let them scheme. Let them whisper in corners.
Tonight is about Hammond & Co.
About projecting strength.
About celebrating survival and signaling a new chapter.
I straighten my shoulders, smooth down my dress, and scan the room for Christopher. He’s talking to Dominic Rossi near the bar, the two of them a formidable pair of billionaire powerhouses.
As if sensing my gaze, Christopher looks up, his eyes finding mine across the crowded room. He gives me a subtle nod, a silent question.
You okay?
I offer him a small, genuine smile in return.
A-okay. Handling it.
He excuses himself from Dominic and starts making his way towards me, navigating the crowd with effortless grace. The sharks might be circling, the waters treacherous, but seeing him walk towards me, solid and unwavering… it feels like finding shore.
Predictably, a path just magicallyclears for him. People sort of… melt backwards. Heads crane. The ambient chatter drops a few decibels.
He’s panty-dropping gorgeous of course. Silk blouses shift on flushed skin as women lean into his trajectory. Husbands’ jaws tighten even as their eyes track him like hungry satellites.
I have to smile. God, the effect he has on a room is just ridiculous.
When he joins me, I instinctively reach for his hand, and grip it tight.
Mine.
“Everything all right?” he asks.
“Never better,” I tell him. And it’s the truth.
Tonight isn’t just about survival. It’s about partnership.
It’s about facing the threats together.
Mark Blackwell wants to rattle skeletons?
Let him try.
We’re ready.
39
Christopher
When she finally releases my hand, it automatically finds the small of her back. A grounding gesture. For her. Maybe for me too.