Page 38 of The Founder's Power

“I’ll go if you want me to, but I would rather stay.”

“Go to your office.”

“I don’t want to maybe save my business if it means losing you in the process.”

“I know, but maybe… maybe we come from two worlds that are so far apart that we have needs that don’t align at all and…”

“Isabelle, don’t think like that.”

“Too late,” she whispers, and she points to the door.

I want to argue, but I respect her wishes.

I just hope that respect doesn’t cost me her love.

* * *

The office is dark.I haven’t turned the lights on, and I haven’t moved in an hour. All I’ve done is sit behind the desk that used to make me feel untouchable. I used to feel like I was invincible when I would sit here.

This place is back to feeling like a tomb. The world has no idea how deeply I’m cracking beneath the surface.

The fight with Isabelle plays on repeat in my head. Every word. Every look. Every truth I didn’t want to hear but needed to.

She’s never been wrong about me.

I grip the edge of the desk until my knuckles go white.

Control was always my safety net. Structure, routine, walls… If I could outwork the chaos, I didn’t have to feel anything. If I stayed ten steps ahead, I didn’t have to be vulnerable.

Vulnerability meant weakness, and weakness meant loss.

But now I can’t deny the fact that I’m losing everything anyhow.

And not only Isabelle and my company.

Myself too.

The armor didn’t protect me. It just kept me alone.

I sit there in the dark for a long time, feeling everything I’ve buried rise up like a tide I can’t stop. The fear. The shame. The gnawing realization that I have never let anyone help me carry the weight, not even Isabelle.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never been able to keep the people who mattered most.

I grab my phone, scroll past the usual names—advisors, legal counsel, partners—and stop at the only one that feels honest.

Reid Halvorsen.

An old friend. He walked away years ago when I tightened my grip on everything. We haven’t spoken in ages, but he knew me before I put up any walls. Before my empire. Before Isabelle.

I hit call before I can talk myself out of it.

It rings once. Twice.

“Damian?”

I close my eyes. My throat’s tight. “Yeah. It’s me.”

A pause. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you again.”

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