31. Gwendaly
GWENDALY
T he ivory silk of my dress feels like a shroud. I’m huddled in a small, windowless green room behind the grand ballroom, the muffled roar of the gala sounding like an angry ocean. Every few seconds, the light from under the door is eclipsed by the shadows of security detail pacing the hall.
My phone is vibrating in my hand, a relentless stream of notifications I refuse to open. I already know what they say. The video is everywhere. My dignity has been converted into a viral currency, and the Luckett stock is currently a smoking crater.
I’m staring at my reflection in a warped vanity mirror when the door opens. I expect my father, ready to deliver the final blow to my spirit. I expect Bancroft, offering a getaway car that leads to another cage.
Instead, Huxley walks in.
He’s discarded his tuxedo jacket. His white shirt is open at the collar, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.
He carries the weight of a man who has spent the last hour tearing a building down with his bare hands.
He shuts the door and leans his back against it, locking it with a sharp, final click.
"I didn't do it, Gwendaly," he says. He’s breathing hard, his chest heaving under the thin cotton of his shirt. "I know how it looks. I know what everyone is saying. But I swear on everything I’ve built, I did not leak that footage."
"I know," I say.
The words are small, but they stop him mid-stride. He blinks, the frantic energy in his eyes flickering into confusion. "You... you know?"
"I saw Louise by the bar right before the screens changed.
She didn't look shocked. She looked like she was waiting for the punchline.
" I stand up, the weight of the ivory dress dragging at my shoulders.
"And Bancroft was at the back entrance. He had a car waiting. He wanted me to see the video, feel the humiliation, and run right into his open arms. It was a coordinated strike, Huxley. Your father’s 'consultant' and my 'safe harbor' finally found something they both agreed on: destroying us. "
Huxley walks toward me, his movements jagged.
He stops just a few feet away, the air between us thick with the scent of salt air and adrenaline.
"I’ve spent the last twenty minutes on the phone with the SEC and my tech team.
The leak originated from a spoofed IP in the guest house.
I’m having Louise arrested for corporate sabotage and revenge porn. "
"It won't matter for the stock," I say, a bitter laugh escaping me. "By the time the truth comes out, Luckett Shipping will be a memory. My father was right. We’re bankrupt by morning."
"Not if we change the narrative," Huxley says.
He reaches out, his hand hovering near my waist before he pulls it back.
"The board is on that stage right now. My father is preparing to announce the termination of my contract and a 'restructuring' of the merger that involves stripping your family of every voting right you have left. "
"So what do we do? Walk out there and plead for mercy?"
"No." Huxley steps into my space, his eyes burning with a lethal, focused clarity.
"We walk out there and we give them the truth.
Not the version they want. Not the 'Kinlow Clause' or the 'Luckett Debt.
' We tell them that the video was a criminal breach of privacy.
And then we tell them that we aren't merging because of a contract. "
"Then why are we merging?" I ask, my heart starting a slow, heavy thrum.
"Because we’re partners. Real ones." Huxley takes my hand, his thumb tracing the ruby ring I’m still wearing—the brand I thought would break me.
"Gwen, if we stay in here, they win. If you take Bancroft’s car, the story is that you ran away in shame.
But if you walk out on that stage with me.
.. if we face that room together... we take the power back. "
"They'll tear us apart, Huxley. The press is feral."
"Let them bite," he growls. "I’ve spent my life being a machine because I was afraid of the mess. But look at us. We’re a total disaster, and yet, I’ve never felt more sure of a plan in my life."
I gaze at him. I see the man who built me a studio, and the man who just threatened to burn his own empire down to protect my name. The ice is gone. The manual is shredded.
"They want a show," I murmur, my fingers tightening around his. "Let's give them a goddamn masterpiece."
"Gwendaly Luckett," he says. "Are you suggesting we commit professional suicide together?"
"I’m suggesting we stop being assets and start being the owners." I reach up, smoothing the collar of his shirt. "You look like you’ve been in a fight, Huxley."
"I have been. I’m just waiting to find out if I won."
I lean in, pressing my forehead against his. The roar of the gala feels distant now, irrelevant. "We’re going to lose everything, aren't we? The billions, the prestige, the 'shorthand' your father loves so much."
"Probably," he whispers. "But I think I’d rather be bankrupt with you than have a board seat in a room that doesn't have your blueprints on the wall."
A sharp pounding hits the door. "Mr. Kinlow! Ms. Luckett! The Chairman is taking the podium! You need to be on the wings now!"
Huxley doesn't look at the door. He stays focused on me. He reaches out, his hand cupping the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in the sleek bun I’ve spent two hours perfecting.
"One more chess move, Gwen," his voice has a jagged edge to it, like velvet dragged over sandpaper. "One more narrative to sell. But this time, we aren't lying."
"I'm terrified," I admit, the honesty of it feeling like a weight lifting off my chest.
"I know." He leans down, his lips ghosting over mine, a promise of a future that hasn't been written yet.
He pulls back, his eyes searching mine for the final "yes." I see the machine he was, and the man he’s becoming. I see the wreckage behind us and the storm ahead. I realize that I don't need a safe harbor.
I just need someone who isn't afraid to go down with the ship.
"Let’s go," I say, my voice steadying into a sharp, defiant clarity.
Huxley nods, his expression turning into something predatory and powerful. He reaches for the door handle, but he stops for one heartbeat, his gaze locked on mine.
"Trust me," he whispers, the words carrying more weight than any contract we’ve ever signed. "For once, Gwendaly... just trust me."