“That's not what's going to happen,” I say, stepping closer.

She backs away. “Really? Because it has your signature on it.”

“It did. Not anymore. I've been changing it.”

Her mask slips for just a second. “What?”

“Your father came to see me. Asked me to keep you on permanently.” I close the distance between us. “I said yes.”

“My father...” She looks stunned. “You spoke to my father behind my back?”

“He came to me. Wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

“Oh great. So I’ll get a role because I’m fucking the CEO? What happens if I’m not in your bed in twelve month’s time, Bennett? Does that role disappear? And what about everyone else?” The mask snaps back into place. “What about Audrey? What about the two hundred-odd people who don't know they're getting fired?”

Shit. “Layla?—”

“What about them, Bennett?”

I can't lie. Not now. “Some positions can't be saved.”

“Some?” Her voice climbs. “Try most. Try almost everyone. Far more than we agreed on during our integration meetings.”

“The alternative to this merger was bankruptcy,” I say, desperation creeping in. “Everyone would have lost their jobs then.”

“But that was before everything else happened. We’ve been bargaining and adjusting for weeks. For what? For you to lie to us? String us along for a year while planning our execution?”

“I wasn't lying to anyone. This is how acquisitions work—we integrate, merge intoonecompany. You knew that going in.”

“I knew you were buying us. I didn't know you were butchering us.”

Her words cut deep because she's not wrong. “I'm trying to save what I can.”

“No, Bennett.Iwas trying to save it. You let mebelievethat I could.” She starts pacing, energy crackling off her. “I've killed myself trying to make this work. Staying up all night, defending every position, fighting for every budget line. For what? So you end up richer and our employees get one more year of job security before the axe falls?”

“This is what I’ve always done,” I say, hating the truth of it. “But it’s not what I wanted to do to you. The rest…it’s just business.”

“This isn't business!” She whirls on me, tears starting. “And it isn’t just about me. These are people's lives. Their families.Myfamily.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because they look like numbers on a spreadsheet to you.”

The accusation hits home. “What did you think would happen? You knew what Mercer Capital does. Why would you expect anything different?”

“I thought we were fixing things. Together.” Her voice breaks. “I thought you cared about more than profit.”

“I care about you.”

“But not about what matters to me.” She wraps her arms around herself. “Not about my team. My father's legacy. The people who trusted me to protect them.”

“I'm protecting you,” I insist. “I'm fighting for your future—for our future.”

“I don't want special treatment,” she says, tears flowing now. “I want fairness. For everyone.”

“Life isn't fair. Neither is business.” The words come out harsher than I mean. “This is a goddamn acquisition! I'm not a charity, Layla.”

The moment I say it, I know I've fucked up.