47. Margot
47
MARGOT
G rayson and I don’t waste a second. The moment the board meeting ends, the clock starts ticking. We have forty-eight hours to dismantle Eleanor’s power play, and that means no sleep, no distractions, and no room for mistakes. I lean against Grayson’s desk, arms crossed, watching as Olivia pulls up a projection of Perfectly Matched’s financials on the office monitor. The numbers are stable, more than stable. Under Grayson’s leadership, the company has grown exponentially, expanding into international markets and solidifying its dominance in the matchmaking industry. Eleanor isn’t attacking him because he’sunfit. She’s attacking him because sheknowshe’s too powerful. She’s scared, which means we have leverage.
“We need to cut off her legs before she can stand,” I say, my voice sharp with purpose. “She’s relying on the narrative that Perfectly Matched is unstable. If we dismantle that, we dismantle her entire argument.”
Grayson, who has been scrolling through his phone, glances up. “How?”
I glance at Olivia. “Tell them.”
Olivia adjusts her glasses, clicking to a new slide. “We leak ourownstory.” She turns to Grayson. “One that doesn’t paint you as a liability, but as thevisionaryleader this company needs.”
Grayson leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “Eleanor controls the media. She’s been feeding them stories formonths.”
“True,” Olivia concedes, “but she doesn’t haveCassian Laurentin her pocket.”
Grayson arches a brow, and at that exact moment, Cassian waltzes into the office as if summoned by sheer force of arrogance. “Ah, I do love hearing my name attached to things I haven’t agreed to yet,” he muses, strolling toward my desk. He gestures lazily to Olivia. “Continue. I’m already intrigued.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “We need you to make a statement backing Grayson’s leadership.”
Cassian smirks. “Why would I do that?”
Grayson exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “Cassian.”
Cassian grins. “Oh, relax, King. OfcourseI’ll do it. It’s just sofunto make you beg.”
Beside him, Isabella snorts, adjusting the oversized sunglasses perched on her head. “He just enjoys making people suffer. Ignore him.”
Grayson glares. “I will throw you both out.”
Cassian leans against my desk, completely unfazed. “Eleanor is good. I’ll give her that. But she made a mistake.”
I tilt my head. “What mistake?”
“She’s underestimating the fact that peoplelovea comeback story.”
I blink, realization hitting me all at once. “You’re right.”
Grayson frowns. “Explain.”
I turn to him, excitement bubbling in my chest. “She’s banking on people seeing you asillegitimate. But if we flip the narrative, if we frame you as someone whobuilt this company from the ground up, despite the odds, suddenly, you’re not the fraud. You’re theunderdog.”
Cassian claps his hands together. “See?Shegets it.”
Olivia is already typing furiously. “We release an exclusive feature. Something big. Somethingsweepingthat reminds the world exactly why Grayson Kingisthe backbone of Perfectly Matched .”
Grayson exhales slowly, nodding. “Okay. What’s the angle?”
I smile. “We remind them who youreallyare.”
Twelve hours later, the article drops. It’s a full-lengthNew York Timesexclusive, titled:
“ The Man Who Built Love: How Grayson King Became the Heart of Perfectly Matched ”
It isdevastatinglyeffective. The article dives deep into Grayson’s history, detailing how he stepped into the company at twenty-two, how he revolutionized the brand, how he built Perfectly Matched into the global empire it is today. There are interviews with satisfied clients, former employees, even industry competitors who grudgingly admit that Grayson isirreplaceable.
The best part? Cassian, in his infinite wealth and influence, makes sure the article iseverywhere.
It trends on every social media platform. It’s on the cover of business magazines. It’s featured on morning talk shows. By noon, #GraysonKingMatters is the top-trending hashtag. Eleanor’s carefully constructed smear campaign? Shattered in less than a day.
The next morning, Olivia bursts into Grayson’s office, barely containing her excitement.
“She’spissed,” she announces gleefully, throwing a stack of printed headlines onto his desk.
Grayson picks up the top one: “ Boardroom Battle: WillPerfectly MatchedBetray Its Founder? ”
He glances at me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Looks like we rattled her.”
Olivia nods. “She’s scrambling to regain control of the narrative. She tried to get a counter-article published, but no one is buying it. The board isnervous. We bought ourselves time.”
Cassian claps a hand over Grayson’s shoulder. “Told you people love a comeback story.”
Grayson exhales, his blue eyes flicking to mine. “That was smart, Evans.”
Warmth spreads through me at the way he looks at me, pride, admiration, something softer, something deeper.
I shrug. “Iamthe brains of this operation.”
Cassian smirks. “That, we can all agree on.”
But Eleanor isn’t finished, not even close. She may have lost this round, but a woman like her doesn’t crumble after a single setback. She is too cunning, too methodical, too patient. Every move she makes is calculated, each step designed to lead to an inevitable conclusion that benefits her and only her. If we think she’s going to retreat quietly after this, we’re fools. We all know this is just the beginning. This was only the opening act in a much larger, much deadlier battle. Eleanor has been waiting for years to claim Perfectly Matched for herself, and she’s not going to let one strategic blow stop her now. If anything, we have only provoked her into fighting even dirtier, into playing even harder. And if I have learned anything about Eleanor, it’s that she does not lose gracefully. A knot tightens in my stomach, an unsettling feeling that we are only bracing for impact, waiting for whatever devastating counterattack she has already set in motion. Because I know she has one. I canfeelit.
I glance at Grayson, searching his face for the weight of that realization, for the worry that should be mirrored in his expression. But what I find is something entirely unexpected: Hope. For the first time in days, maybe weeks, I see it in his eyes, a glimmer of certainty, a steadiness that hasn’t been there since Eleanor started her assault on him. It’s cautious, barely formed, but it’s there. A quiet belief that maybe, just maybe, wecanwin this.
Grayson still has a long way to go. He has wounds that haven’t even begun to heal, battles he hasn’t yet faced within himself, and we are far from finished. This war is still raging. The real fight is still ahead of us. But for the first time, we are no longer just surviving Eleanor’s attacks. We are taking back control, and if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that Eleanor is finally running out of moves.