42. Grayson
42
GRAYSON
I barely get a moment to breathe before stepping into another battle. The second Margot and I leave Cassian’s penthouse, reality crashes back into me with full force. Eleanor is moving faster than we anticipated. The press is already running stories that hint at an impending leadership change at Perfectly Matched , and Isabella and Cassian’s ongoing feud remains a PR disaster waiting to explode. I grip the steering wheel tightly as we weave through city traffic, my mind running through every possible counter move. The tension sits heavy in my chest, a constant reminder that time is slipping through our fingers.
Beside me, Margot scrolls through her phone, her expression unreadable. When she finally speaks, her voice is sharp and controlled, but I know her well enough to recognize the anger simmering just beneath the surface.
“Eleanor is already pushing stories to the press,” she mutters. “Every article is hinting at Perfectly Matched being on the verge of a major transition. She’s setting the stage. If she can convince the public that change is inevitable, then when she makes her move, no one will be surprised.”
I flick my gaze toward her, my grip tightening around the wheel. “How bad is it?”
Margot exhales sharply. “Let’s see. ‘Sources close to the company suggest internal power shifts.’ ‘Perfectly Matched faces a crossroads, will its leaders survive the shake-up?’” She shakes her head and lets out a frustrated sigh. “She’s playing thisperfectly. By planting the idea now, she’s conditioning the board and the public to expect a change in leadership. When she finally announces her move, it will seem like a natural progression rather than a hostile takeover.”
I nod, my jaw clenching. “Then we make sure theonlychange anyone sees is the one we control.”
Margot meets my gaze, and for the first time in what feels like days, I see it, the sharp, unwavering determination that has always made her impossible to beat. No matter what happens between us personally, we fight for this company, we fighttogether .
The conference room feels more like a battlefield than a place of business. The walls are covered in strategy boards with key players' names scrawled across them in bold letters. Whiteboards display carefully mapped-out plans, and printouts of recent articles are pinned up, each one highlighting Eleanor’s slow but strategic takeover attempt. Olivia sits at the head of the table, her laptop open in front of her. Her glasses are slightly askew, a clear sign that she has been working non-stop. She types furiously, barely sparing us a glance as we enter.
“We need a power move,” she says without preamble, her voice sharp and decisive. “Something that makes it clear to both the board and the public that Perfectly Matched isn’t just stable, it’s thriving under your leadership.”
Margot leans back in her chair, her fingers drumming against the table as she processes Olivia’s words. “What if we announce an expansion? A global initiative?”
I tilt my head, considering the idea. “Something that positions us as leaders in the industry. If we make it clear that we are taking Perfectly Matched to the next level, it becomes impossible for anyone to justify removing us.”
Olivia smirks, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Nowthat’sthe kind of cutthroat thinking I love to see.”
Margot shoots her a grin. “You trained me well.”
I lean forward, resting my arms on the table. “What’s our strongest angle?”
Olivia pulls up a set of analytics, scrolling quickly. “International matchmaking is the fastest-growing sector in the industry. If you two go public with a major global expansion, new markets, high-profile international clients, it sends a clear message. You’re not losing control. You’re not barely keeping up. You’reinnovating. You’redominating.”
I nod. “And we make the announcementbeforeEleanor’s meeting.”
Margot’s eyes light up. “She thinks she’s backing us into a corner. But if we go bigger, louder,first, she’s the one who looks like she’s scrambling to catch up.”
Olivia grins. “And the best part? The board will see the public’s reaction. If investors and clients show confidence in you two, the board won’tdarevote for a leadership change.”
I glance at Margot, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline. This is what we do best, strategy, problem-solving, winning.
“Then let’s move fast,” I say. “We need a press release drafted by noon. Media outreach by three. And by tonight?” I smirk. “Eleanor will be playing defense.”
Margot grins, the fire in her eyes unmistakable. “Ilovemaking her play defense.”
The rest of the day at Perfectly Matched headquarters is a blur of meetings, media calls, and last-minute adjustments. By the time the official announcement goes live, the industry is already buzzing. Social media is flooded with excitement, investors are reaching out for more information, and every major business publication is running headlines about Perfectly Matched’s bold new global expansion. And Eleanor? She issilent. Which means she is planning her counterattack. Margot and I are reviewing the latest round of press coverage when Olivia bursts into the office, breathless.
“She’s countering,” Olivia announces, dropping a folder onto the desk between us.
Margot picks it up and flips through the pages, her expression tightening as she scans the documents. “Of course she is.”
I take the file from her hands, my eyes narrowing as I read the first few lines. Damn it.
Eleanor isn’t just pushing against us, she is going after uspersonally. She is twisting facts, leaking selective information, and pulling Margot and me into the narrative in ways that paint us as reckless, emotionally compromised, and unfit to lead.
I exhale slowly, jaw tightening. “She’s making this personal.”
Margot folds her arms, her blue eyes burning with determination. “Then we hit back harder.”
By the time we step into my penthouse, exhaustion is tugging at me, but my mind is still running on overdrive. Margot follows me inside, dropping her bag onto the counter before exhaling deeply. “I can’t believe how fast she pivoted.”
I loosen my tie, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension. “I can.”
Margot turns to face me, watching me closely. “Do you think we have enough to stop her?”
I nod, but I don’t speak. Because as much as I want to focus on Perfectly Matched , as much as I want to stay in strategy mode, all I can think about is her. Standing in my home. Looking at me like that. Like she is wondering the same thing I am, how the hell we ended up here again.
She swallows, arms crossing over her chest. “Last night…”
I step closer. She doesn’t move away.
I exhale slowly. “Yeah.”
A loaded pause stretches between us. I should say something. I should set boundaries, draw a line. Instead, I reach for her and she doesn’t pull away. Her breath catches as my fingers trail lightly over her arm, as I step closer, my body instinctively gravitating toward hers.
“You should go,” I murmur, even as my hands slide to her waist.
“I know,” she whispers back, but she doesn’t move.
We are too close now, heat crackling between us, the same push and pull we have never been able to resist. Her lips part slightly, and I swear the entire world tilts. And then, my phone rings. The name flashing across the screen sends a chill down my spine.
Eleanor. This war is far from over.