20. Huxley
HUXLEY
I wake up before the light has fully claimed the sunroom.
Gwendaly is a warm, soft weight against my side, her breathing rhythmic and deep.
In the silver-grey shadows, the memory of her whispering she might be falling for me is a siren blaring in my ears.
It’s the one variable I didn't account for, the one truth I’m not equipped to process.
I untangle myself from her with the precision of a thief. My hands are steady, but my mind is a frantic switchboard. If I stay, I’m surrendering to a feeling that doesn't fit the code. If I leave, I’m the coward she always suspected I was.
I choose the middle ground—the sanctuary of my office.
By 8:00 AM, I’m buried in the logistics of the Singapore buyout. The numbers are clean, the transition is seamless, but I can’t stop checking the security feed for the library alcove. Louise is still on the property. My father is still pulling the strings.
A sharp knock at my door breaks the trance. I don’t even have time to answer before Louise walks in, looking like a page out of a high-fashion editorial in a tailored white jumpsuit.
"You're up early, darling," she says, her eyes scanning the room until they land on the coffee stain on my desk. "Or did you never actually go to sleep? Gwendaly is quite the distraction, I imagine."
"What do you want, Louise?" I ask, not bothering to look up from my screen.
"I wanted to apologize for dinner," she says, walking toward the window that overlooks the terrace. "Robert can be... heavy-handed. And I realize my presence isn't exactly welcomed by the new management."
"Your presence is a liability. You’re here to rattle her, and we both know it."
"I'm here to ensure the Kinlow interests are protected," she counters, turning back to me. "But I think I left my tablet in the sunroom yesterday afternoon. The one with the Midland project drafts. Have you seen it?"
I freeze. The sunroom. Where Gwendaly is currently sleeping. Where the air still tastes of her skin and my surrender.
"I'll have a staff member retrieve it," I say, my voice sounding tight.
"No need. I’ll just pop in and grab it. I wouldn't want to wake the princess.
She’s out the door before I can stop her. I stand up, my chair scraping against the floor, but then the phone on my desk rings. It’s the lead negotiator from Singapore. I have to take it. I have to be the CEO. I have to stay in the box.
I take the call, but my eyes are fixed on the monitor. I watch Louise walk toward the west wing, her stride purposeful and predatory.
I finish the call ten minutes later and sprint toward the sunroom. My gut is telling me something is wrong. Louise doesn't "accidentally" leave things anywhere. She plants them.
I reach the sunroom and throw the doors open. A heavy, static tension hangs between us, snapping with every breath.
Gwendaly is standing by the drafting table, wrapped in a cashmere throw, her face ashen. She isn't holding a tablet. She’s holding a manila folder—the one my father's legal team sent over three days ago. The liquidation draft.
"Gwendaly," I say.
She looks at me, and I see the exact moment her trust in me dies. She holds up the signature page. My signature. The one I signed before we danced on the yacht, before the kitchen, before last night.
"I actually believed you," she says, her voice a terrifying, flat whisper. She lets out a short, jagged laugh that contains zero humor. "I told myself, 'Gwen, he’s different. He built you a studio. He’s human.' I actually trusted you, Huxley. Can you believe how stupid that is?"
"Gwendaly, let me explain. That was a preliminary draft. It was a requirement for the initial audit?—"
"Oh, right. The audit," she interrupts, her tone dripping with a sarcasm so sharp it feels like a blade.
"Because nothing says 'I care about you' quite like signing the papers to kill my mother's fashion line while we’re picking out a guest list. Was that part of the foreplay, Huxley?
Or did you just wait until I was asleep to appreciate how well you managed the asset? "
"It’s not like that. I signed it before?—"
"Before you decided I was worth a few nights of 'recreation'?
" She shoves the folder toward me, the papers spilling onto the mahogany table.
"Congratulations. You’re a genius. You got the ports, you got the girl to sign the clause, and you even got to play the hero for a second. Your ROI must be off the charts."
Louise is standing in the corner, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She has her tablet now, but she’s staying to watch the crash.
"Out, Louise!" I roar. "Get the hell out of my house!"
Louise shrugs and walks away, her heels clicking against the marble like a countdown.
I turn back to Gwendaly, but she’s already pulling the ruby ring off her finger. It catches on her knuckle for a second, and the struggle makes my chest feel like it’s being crushed. She drops it on the table, right on top of the liquidation memo.
"The merger is over, Huxley," she says, her voice steadying into a cold, absolute clarity. "I’m calling Bancroft. I’d rather be owned by a man who admits he’s a shark than a man who pretends he’s a savior. At least Bancroft doesn't build me a room just to distract me while he guts my life."
"Gwendaly, if you leave, my father will trigger the Varma buy-out. You’ll lose the terminals tonight. We can fix this. I can override the signature."
"You already fixed it, Huxley," she says, walking past me toward the door. "You optimized me right out of your life. And to think—I actually thought I saw a heart behind all that code. My mistake."
She slams the door behind her.
I stand alone in the studio, the morning sun hitting the ruby ring on the table. I won the ports. I secured the buy-back. I have the "Iron Signature."
But as I stare at the blank canvases around me, I realize the glitch wasn't her falling for me.
The glitch was me thinking I could have the girl and the machine at the same time.
I head to my office, but as I pass the library, I see my father standing in the shadows, watching me. He isn't angry. He looks proud.
"Well done, son," he says. "The asset is secured. We move to integration at midnight."
I look at him, I don't see a mentor. I see the man who just helped me destroy the only thing that made me feel human.
I open the Varma buy-out documents—and I realize that if I want to save Gwendaly, I have to destroy my father's empire.
And I have fourteen hours to do it.