The Lautner boardroom stretched like a marble cage under a ceiling of cold chandeliers. Every seat was empty, yet Stephan sat at the head, jacket draped over his chair, sleeves rolled high enough to show the veined tension in his forearms. He watched Paisley with a heat that wasn't new but this time, it didn't simmer. It blazed.
I didn't call you here for another strategy session, he said.
Paisley stood at the far end, arms crossed over her tailored dress, heels silent on the Persian rug. Then I must be in the wrong place.
He stood slowly. You're not.
The windows behind him revealed a skyline painted in smoke and dying light. The city was shifting. So was he.
You want to save this empire, he said. I want to survive it.
That's dramatic, even for you.
Then let me make it plain, he said, stepping forward. I need you beside me. Not just as legal counsel. I want you on every platform, at every event, beside me at press tables, in the firm's new rebranding. The world needs to see we're a united front.
Paisley blinked, her breath catching. You want me to... what? Be your spokesperson?
No. I want you to be my partner.
Her jaw clenched. That's not a simple request, Stephan.
It's not a request, he said softly. It's survival.
I'm a lawyer. Not your corporate trophy.
I know who you are. You're the woman who stood toe-to-toe with Harwood and didn't blink. You've already defended me behind closed doors. Now I'm asking you to do it in front of the wolves.
You want me to risk my credibility. My career. For you.
For us. His voice dipped.
For a moment, the silence stretched thin between them. The flicker in her chest wasn't fear. It was the weight of choice.
He moved closer, eyes unreadable. Say yes.
Before she could respond, the conference door creaked. A figure lingered in the frame.
I wouldn't, the woman's voice saidsilk, smooth, poisoned.
Paisley turned slowly. Isabella Blackwell stood there, flawless in white, lips curled.
This is not the kind of deal you walk into without losing everything
Paisley's heels clicked once as she stepped forward, positioning herself between Stephan and Isabella. Her tone was even, but her eyes burned.
You weren't invited.
Isabella smirked, her fingers trailing the glass edge of the boardroom table. Her white suit hugged her like it had been stitched from clouds and secrets. The pearls around her neck were vintage Lautner, heirlooms never gifted but always taken.
I never need an invitation to what's already mine, she said. Her voice, velvet-wrapped steel, filled the silence.
Stephan's jaw shifted. This isn't your home anymore.
It never stopped being my stage.
Paisley folded her arms, tone clipped. Is there a point, Isabella, or do you just miss the acoustics in this building?
I came to warn you, Isabella said smoothly, eyes locking on Paisley's like a predator testing a rival. You're betting on a collapsing throne. Stephan may wear the crown, but the foundation beneath him is rot. And you, dear girl, are about to sink with it.
Paisley didn't flinch. Better to sink with something real than stand on smoke.
Stephan interrupted, voice firm. Why now?
Isabella's smile thinned. Because I know what you're planning. The press rollout. The partnership reveal. Making this little liaison look like salvation. But here's what you forgot, Stephan. You can't bury the past if it still owns the deed to your future.
Paisley's brows drew together. What does that mean?
Isabella leaned in, whispering like she was feeding poison to a child. It means there are clauses in your father's estate. Ones that make me very hard to erase.
She slid a folder across the table. You'll find your name, Paisley. Twice. Once in the deposition Harwood's lawyers are sitting on. And once in an old legal memo your firm tried to make disappear.
Paisley's hand hovered over the folder. Where did you get this?
Isabella winked. Oh, darling. You never clean up well enough. I used to be very good at fixing Stephan's mistakes. Now, I'm even better at watching them burn.
She turned to leave, heels a slow echo of triumph.
Paisley opened the folder. Her stomach dropped.
Stephan stepped beside her, voice hoarse. What is it?
She looked up. My name's not just in the file. It's on the contract that sealed the Lautner-Harwood alliance.
Stephan paled. You were part of it?
I think I just became the weapon.