Page 134 of Dial B for Billionaire

“I am.”

Willa leads us through the hotel's private elevator to the top floor, chatting easily about the gala's fundraising goals. Bennett's hand remains at the small of my back, a steady pressure that grounds me despite the surreal quality of the evening.

The presidential suite spreads before us as the doors open—a sprawling space of elegant furnishings and floor-to-ceiling windows. But it's not the luxury that catches my attention.

It's my father standing by the window.

“Dad?” I stop short, causing Bennett to nearly collide with me.

My father turns, and I'm struck by how different he looks. Less burdened. The perpetual crease between hisbrows has softened. His bow tie is slightly crooked—typical.

“Layla.” He crosses the room, hesitating just a step away. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, though after Bennett's revelation on the dance floor, I'm beginning to understand.

“I've been part of the negotiations,” he says, gesturing to the conference table where documents lie spread in organized chaos. “It seems your young man is quite determined to keep the Carmichael name alive.”

“My young man?” I can't help the slightly hysterical edge to my laugh. “Last time you saw him, you called me a?—”

“I know.” My father's voice drops, genuine regret shadowing his features. “And I've apologized to Bennett. Now I owe you the same, Layla. I was wrong. About everything.”

The simple admission leaves me momentarily speechless. Robert Carmichael doesn't apologize. He doesn't admit fault. Ever.

“Let's all sit,” Landon suggests, gesturing to the conference table. “I think Layla deserves to see exactly what we've been planning.”

Bennett guides me to a chair, taking the seat beside me while Landon settles at the head of the table. Willa arranges for drinks to be served while Caleb organizes the documents with practiced efficiency.

“Since Bennett has already shared the broad strokes,” Landon begins, “I'll focus on the specifics. James Tech is proposing a three-way partnership structured as follows: Mercer Capital maintains controlling interest at fifty-one percent, but Carmichael Innovations continues as its ownentity rather than being absorbed. James Tech acquires a twenty percent stake, with the remaining twenty-nine percent staying with the original Carmichael shareholders.”

“Which means my father retains significant ownership,” I clarify, looking to Dad for confirmation.

He nods. “And more importantly, control over research and development. The core innovation stays with us, Layla.”

Caleb slides a document toward me. “This differs from standard acquisition protocols in several key ways,” he explains, his lawyer voice somehow less annoying than usual. “We've created a governance structure that requires unanimous approval for any major staffing or operational changes to the research division.”

“In plain English,” Bennett adds, his eyes never leaving my face, “your father can't be forced out. The neural mapping team stays intact. The campus remains operational.”

I scan the document, years of reading corporate fine print allowing me to quickly grasp the implications. “This is... extraordinary,” I murmur. “These protections go far beyond what any acquired company typically receives.”

“Because this isn't a typical acquisition anymore,” Bennett says simply. “It's a partnership.”

“But why?” I look at Landon. “What does James Tech gain from this arrangement?”

Landon leans forward, eyes bright with genuine enthusiasm. “First access to breakthrough technology that aligns perfectly with our Children's Health Initiative. We've been trying to develop neural interface systems for cognitive therapy in underserved communities for years.Your technology leapfrogs our efforts by at least a decade.”

“And what does the board think?” I ask Bennett directly. “This can't be what they expected when they approved the acquisition.”

Something passes between Bennett and Caleb—a look loaded with shared history.

“The board meeting is Thursday,” Bennett admits. “This isn't approved yet.”

“Then how?—”

“Because I believe I can convince them,” he says with that confidence that simultaneously infuriates and attracts me. “The long-term revenue projections actually outperform the original plan. It's just a different path to get there. We’re building instead of dismantling.”

“And if they say no?” I challenge.

Bennett's jaw tightens. “Then I'll use my controlling shares to push it through anyway.”

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