Chapter 4
4
ADRIAN
“Should I tell Mr. Fulton you’re on your way?” Wendy asks.
I give a curt nod. “Yes.”
I’m not about to make the CEO wait. I drop my chopsticks and stand, brushing off my Armani suit. “Alert Sarah I’ll be unavailable. She has the floor until I return.”
Wendy scurries behind me as I head to the elevator bank. “Anything else, Mr. West?”
“No, thank you, Wendy.” I push the up button, my mind spinning. What could Dominic want? Our fund is up 28 per cent YTD, we just landed the Calloway account—but he might not know about that yet… I rack my brain but come up empty.
The doors slide open with a muted ding and I step inside, only to find myself face to face with a familiar head of perfectly coiffed blond hair. Preston Harris, the company’s CFO, looks up from his phone with a tight smile.
“Adrian,” he greets me smoothly. “Ah, you’ve been summoned, too?”
My brows furrow as the doors close and the elevator begins its ascent. “Dominic? ”
Preston nods, pocketing his phone. “His assistant was very insistent. Wouldn’t say what it’s about, though.”
Curiosity piqued, I lean against the handrail, studying my colleague’s profile. After the CEO himself, we’re the top two executives at the firm. Why does he need to see both of us? Is he selling out? I hope the fuck not. I didn’t spend the last ten years building this company from the ground up to get tossed aside like yesterday’s news. I sacrificed too much for this job. Relationships. Time with family and friends. Vacations. Sleep .
The doors open onto the hushed expanse of the executive floor, which Dominic keeps all to himself—not because he needs an entire floor, but because he can. His assistant waves us in with a practiced smile. “He’s expecting you.”
I allow Preston to exit first, bringing up the rear with a confidence I don’t entirely feel.
In the corner office, Dominic rises from behind his massive desk, silver hair glinting under the recessed lighting. “Adrian, Preston, please get comfortable.” He gestures for us to take a seat.
I sink into one of the chairs, legs crossed, projecting an air of nonchalance I’m far from feeling. Preston perches ramrod straight beside me.
Dominic’s craggy features are unreadable. “I’ll cut to the chase, gentlemen. I’ve decided to retire at the end of the year. And one of you will be taking over.”
Every muscle in my body goes taut, my earlier fears evaporating. He’s not selling out; he’s announcing his successor. This is it. The opportunity of a lifetime. I keep my expression neutral, but inside, I’m already envisioning myself in this corner office—bigger than mine and a few floors up. Preston may be good, but I’m better. I’ve got this in the bag.
“Over the next few months,” Dominic continues, prompting me to focus on the present and not on a distant fantasy, “I’ll be evaluating you both personally and professionally. We’ll be spending some time together outside the office, too. Starting with a weekend at my Hamptons estate two weeks from now. I expect you both to attend. Families are welcome.”
Preston shifts beside me. “Of course, sir. My wife and kids will be delighted.”
I suppress a smirk. Preston’s picture-perfect family-man image won’t help him here. “Count me in,” I announce. “Though I’ll be coming solo.” No time for attachments in my world.
Dominic nods, already reaching for his phone. “Excellent. My assistant will send over the details.” He waves a hand in clear dismissal.
Considering how monumental the announcement was, it took a record short time to deliver. But Dominic, like me, is all about efficiency.
Mind still reeling, I follow Preston out, making calculations. A weekend in the Hamptons, schmoozing with the boss. I can do that in my sleep. Really, Preston has no chance.
I walk beside him toward the elevators, his mop shining under the fluorescent lights, my mind already narrowing on all the steps I need to take to impress Dominic and lock the promotion in. I should start by telling him we closed Calloway this morning.
I stop halfway down the hall. “Hey Preston, you go on ahead. I have to clarify something with Dominic.”
The CFO nods. “Sure thing. See you downstairs, Adrian.” He steps into the open elevator.
I stalk back toward Dominic’s office. His door is slightly ajar. I’m about to knock when his secretary’s voice drifts out .
“I don’t understand, sir. Why put on this contest if you’ve already decided who to name as your successor?”
My hand freezes inches from the door as my heartbeat thunders in my ears. Could it be that Dominic isn’t just choosing a replacement, but an heir? He has no children and isn’t romantically attached to anyone that I know of. Could the company—Dominic’s entire legacy—be up for grabs?
Dominic chuckles. “Well, between you and me, Adrian is the obvious choice for driving profits. The man’s a machine.”
A grin spreads across my face. I knew it! My relentless work ethic, the grueling hours I’ve put in to bringing this firm to greatness—it’s all paying off. I’m about to burst into Dominic’s office and shake his hand when his next words stop me cold.
“…But Adrian, he’s too much like me. Ruthless. No family, no life outside this place. I don’t want to pass down my life’s work to someone who will repeat my mistakes and leave no legacy behind besides a pile of cash.”
My mouth goes dry as Dominic’s voice drops to a heavy sigh. “No, it’ll have to be Preston in the end. The company needs someone with roots. Someone with children who wants to make the world a better place for them. Unless Adrian proves I’ve misjudged him, that’s how things will go.”
Children? Make the world a better place? Who is this man talking? Not the cutthroat founder of our multi-billion-dollar fund. The Dominic I know is a cold-blooded killer. This Dominic, will he start to sing “Kumbaya” next?
My head spins as I back away from the door in a daze. I bled for this company, lost pieces of myself along the way… and now I’m being told it’s not enough? Anger simmers under the shock as I turn on my heel and make a run for it. I burst past the stairs’ emergency entrance, too agitated to wait for a fucking elevator .
On my floor, I crash into my office and slam the door behind me, heart pounding. A few quick flicks of my fingers and I’ve loosened the knot of my tie as I pace back and forth. This can’t be happening—I’m the better man for the job, no question. I worked my way up from nothing to get here. And now Dominic is going to pass me over for the promotion because what, I don’t have kids? Where’s the justice in that?
I collapse into my chair, my hands clawing through my hair as I glance at the neatly stacked folders on my desk, the product of endless late nights. With an angry shove, I swipe the entire pile to the floor. Papers fly everywhere. I should hand in my resignation right away.
I wheel closer to my computer and I’m already opening a blank document to write my notice, when I hesitate, fingers poised on the keyboard. The cursor blinks, waiting for me to type the words that will set me free. But the thought of stepping away—of walking into the unknown—before I have another job lined up keeps me frozen. I started working after-school jobs when I was fourteen, and I haven’t gone a day since then being unemployed. I know too well what it feels like to have nothing—to struggle in ways I swore I’d never let myself face again.
Not having a job is not an option. But the idea of having to start fresh at a new place, to have to prove myself all over again feels like too much. Next year, I’ll turn forty, I’m at a time in my life when I should be collecting the fruits of my hard work, not having to start from scratch.
Should I just flip the bird to everyone, retire early on an island somewhere in the Caribbean, and just manage my investments? I’ve made millions in my years at Fulton. How much more do I need?
But it’s not really the need for more money that keeps me here—a cog churning in the wheel—is it? It’s more the fear of losing it all. Which could happen overnight. The stock market could crash at any moment. Volatility has never been higher; 2008 has proven not even real estate is safe. The pandemic has done the same for oil and natural gas. And with the global turmoil of the last few years, even safe-haven assets have been on a roller coaster of ups and downs.
Despite the uncertain economy, I probably won’t lose all my money in the blink of an eye, but the idea of being jobless—like my father—even for a single day, rips through me like a live wire, electrifying every muscle, leaving me paralyzed, my breath locking in my lungs as blood roars in my ears.
I’m still blocked, when a new email pops up in my inbox. It’s the invitation to the company retreat in the Hamptons. Without thinking, I click “RSVP” and select “plus one.” What am I doing? I don’t have anyone to bring. But some irrational part of my brain tells me this is my chance to prove myself, kids or no kids.
I hit send, and lean back in my chair closing my eyes. I reopen them a heartbeat later only to stare at the ceiling. Around me, the wide windows of my office, once a symbol of my success, feel like they’re mocking me. Like the entire city out there is poking fun at me.
A minute or an hour later, I couldn’t tell, my landline rings. It’s Dominic’s direct line. I swallow my apprehension and answer.
“Adrian! I just saw your RSVP. I thought you said earlier you were coming alone?”
My palm goes clammy against the receiver, and I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. If Dominic wants a legacy, I’ll give him one. “Oh, right. The thing is…” I pull in a wobbly breath. “I’m bringing my fiancée. ”
“Your fiancée?”
“Yeah. I— we —are getting married… to… err… put down roots, be a family, you know, that kind of stuff?”
I pass a hand over my face. What the fuck am I blabbering?
“Yes, Adrian, I know.” Dominic chuckles. “That’s usually the reason why people get engaged. Why didn’t you say so right away? I’d love to meet the woman who’s managed to lock you down.”
Why? Why? Why ? “Umm, the thing is… she… she’s pregnant. We’re having an heir—I mean a baby. But it’s still early days, and she’s been feeling sick a lot. I wasn’t sure if she’d be up for the trip to the Hamptons. But I called her and she said she wants to come and support me.”
There’s a long pause. “Wow Adrian, a baby? I had no idea! Congratulations, you must be thrilled to become a father,” Dominic replies, sounding genuinely happy for me.
“Thanks, we haven’t told many people yet since it’s still early on…” I trail off, my stomach churning with the enormity of the lie.
“Of course, I understand. Well, I look forward to meeting her!”
“Great, she’s excited to meet you too.” I hang up, feeling lightheaded. What the hell did I just do? I don’t have a fiancée to bring to the Hamptons, let alone a pregnant one. This lie is going to catch up to me so fast.
I can’t breathe. Glass or no, the walls of my office are closing in on me. I need to get out of here. I stumble out the door, unsteady on my feet. Wendy asks me something but I don’t hear her over the ringing in my ears. I have an objective, getting out of this building. I need fresh air. Now.
The elevator ride down takes forever, but I’m finally in the lobby. I eye the front doors but before I can reach them, a wave of nausea hits me. That sushi platter I had at lunch churns violently in my stomach. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Not here.
In a panic, my eyes snag on the public restroom in the corner.
I charge through the door, barely registering a cardboard box lying on the otherwise pristine tile floor. Ducking into the closest stall, I bend over the toilet just as my stomach heaves.
I cough and sputter, gripping the sides of the bowl.
As the first wave passes, I notice a strange sound. Glancing to my left, I realize with horror that someone is throwing up in the next stall, too.