Page 135 of Dial B for Billionaire

“You'd risk your position as CEO?” I can't keep the disbelief from my voice.

“Yes,” he says simply. “I would.”

The quiet certainty in his voice strikes me more powerfully than any grand declaration could have. This isn't just about me. This is about Bennett fundamentally reexamining what matters. Not just in his personal life, but in his business philosophy.

“There's something else,” my father says, sliding another folder toward me. “Something Bennett insisted on that goes beyond the business arrangement.”

I open it to find documentation for a new foundation—The Carmichael Innovation Fund—with an initial endowment of twenty million dollars.

“What is this?” I ask, scanning the mission statement about supporting women in STEM and medical technology education.

“Something I should have done years ago,” my father says. “Created a legacy beyond patents and profit. Bennett suggested it might be time to think about what the Carmichael name could mean to the next generation.”

I look up at Bennett, finding him watching me with an intensity that makes my heart stutter. “You did this?”

“I merely suggested,” he says. “Your father embraced the concept immediately. It was his idea to focus on women in STEM.”

My father clears his throat. “I may have been slow to recognize certain truths, Layla, but I've always known your brilliance deserves a wider platform than one company can provide.”

Tears threaten, but I blink them back. “This is... a lot to process.”

“Of course it is,” Willa says warmly. “Which is why no decisions need to be made tonight. The documents will be here tomorrow.” She rises gracefully. “Landon, why don't we give them some privacy? I believe we're still hosting a gala downstairs.”

Landon stands. “Excellent point, my love. Caleb, would you mind accompanying us? I have some questions about the disclosure agreements.”

Caleb gathers his notes with the efficiency of someone used to being dismissed from emotional situations. “I'll be downstairs if you need anything clarified,” he says to Bennett, then follows the Jameses toward the door.

My father hesitates, looking between Bennett and me. “I should go as well,” he says finally. “We can discuss the details tomorrow, when you've had time to think.”

But before he leaves, he does something that shocks me more than any business deal could. He hugs me, tight and fierce, the way he used to when I was small. The man who once saw me as nothing but a means to continue his legacy… now holds me like I’m his daughter first.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers. “For everything I said. For how I doubted you both. I was afraid of losing everything, and I nearly lost what matters most.”

I hug him back, words momentarily beyond me. When he pulls away, his eyes are suspiciously bright.

He turns to Bennett, extending his hand. “Thank you,” he says simply.

Bennett accepts the handshake with a nod that communicates something I don't fully understand—some male code of mutual respect that seems to have developed in my absence.

And then we're alone, the door clicking shut behind my father with quiet finality. Bennett stands by the window, backlit by Chicago's glittering skyline, watching me with those intense blue eyes that see too much.

“You did all this in five days,” I say, not quite a question.

“Less than that. I was a blithering mess for a lot of it. But once I saw the way forward…” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “I would have done it faster, but lawyers insist on sleeping occasionally.”

“Not you, though.” I step closer, noticing the shadows beneath his eyes that his perfect tailoring can't hide. “You don't look like you've slept at all.”

“Sleep seemed less important than fixing my mistake.”He doesn't move toward me, giving me space to process. “Than finding a way back to you.”

“This goes beyond us, Bennett. This is restructuring your entire business model.”

“Maybe it was time.” He shrugs, a gesture so casual it belies the magnitude of what he's done. “Maybe I needed someone to make me question approaches I've taken for granted.”

“And my father? How did you convince him to work with you after... everything?”

Bennett's expression softens. “He was worried about your future with the company, so it started there. But once we started talking about the technology itself, about what it could really become with the right support...” He trails off. “Robert is a visionary. We helped each other find a practical path forward.”

“You two hated each other a week ago,” I remind him.

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