Chapter 28 Bree
Bree
I’ve got my laptop balanced on my knees, headset firmly in place, conference line muted on my end. Standard protocol for executive secretaries during board sessions. Take notes, stay invisible, don’t breathe too loudly.
You know. My specialty.
Actually, to give Nico credit, he did request that I join this board meeting in person, just like he’d asked me to join the last one, but I’d told him I’d prefer to opt out for now. Especially considering the gossip article.
Sometimes being invisible has its perks.
He’d hesitated, and for a moment I’d thought he was going to force me to take part, but then he’d nodded his head and shut the door.
The boardroom has these thick mahogany doors that muffle everything, but the audio feed in my ears is crystal clear. Every time Martin Hale’s voice comes on, it makes me want to reach through the door and strangle him with his own silk tie.
I can definitely tell he’s Gabriella’s sister.
The smugness in his tone gives it away.
“The recent scandals demonstrate a pattern of compromised judgment,” Martin is saying now. “Especially the personal scandal involving his relationship with a subordinate.”
Gee, thanks for the shoutout, Martin.
Really appreciate being reduced to ‘a subordinate’ in front of twelve board members.
I type his words into my meeting minutes while my stomach churns.
“We have a fiduciary responsibility,” Martin continues. “To protect this company from leadership that repeatedly demonstrates poor judgment.”
I can hear Nico’s silence through the line.
Say something.
Defend yourself.
Do that thing where you go all cold and lethal and make everyone regret underestimating you.
But he doesn’t.
Helena Vasquez’s voice cuts through. “The CEO’s honest public admission showed remarkable courage. Spinning would have been easier. Hiding would have been expected. Instead, he chose the truth.”
God bless Helena Vasquez.
“The truth about past manipulation,” Martin counters smoothly. “Which only reinforces my point about his character.”
My fingers pause on the keyboard.
Okay, I really hate this guy.
The vote is coming. Martin’s motion to “temporarily restructure executive leadership.” Corporate speak for ripping everything Nico built right out of his hands.
I think about the last day. The honest statement Nico wrote himself. The way his voice cracked when he showed it to me. Dom showing up this morning, pulling his brother into a hug right there in reception. His parents arriving, his mother’s face crumpling the moment she saw him.
And me. Watching from outside while his family surrounded him. Feeling like I was witnessing something private and healing, something I wanted to be a part of more than I want to admit.
“Before we proceed to the vote,” Martin says, “I’d like to formally move that—”
“Actually,” Nico’s voice cuts in, and even through the tinny conference line, it makes something flutter in my stomach, “I’d like to request a brief pause.”
“But—” Martin begins, but then falls silent.
I can image Nico looking at him with those dark steely eyes in that moment. Eyes that could silence a raging bull.
I hear chair legs scraping. A lone chair.
His?
Then the boardroom door opens.
Nico stands in the doorway, and sweet Jesus, even now, in the middle of a corporate coup, the man looks like sin wrapped in a tailored suit.
His sleeves are rolled up, his jaw is shadowed with stubble he hasn’t had time to shave.
The scars on his face catch the light, and I remember tracing them last night, feeling him shudder under my fingers.
Not the time.
Really not the time.
“Bree.” His voice is quiet. “Would you come in please.”
I stare at him.
Excuse me?
I told him I didn’t want to go in. I specifically said I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. And now he wants me to walk into a boardroom full of people who have definitely read every single gossip article about us?
“I...” My voice comes out squeaky. I clear my throat. “Now?”
“Please,” he insists.
His eyes hold mine. Dark. Intense. That look that always makes me feel like I’m the only person in his world.
Damn it.
I remove my headset. Grab my laptop because I genuinely don’t know what else to do with my hands. Stand up on legs that feel distinctly wobbly.
The walk from my chair to the boardroom door takes about seven decades.
Every face turns toward me as I enter. Martin Hale with his perfectly coiffed silver hair and his expression of barely concealed disdain.
Helena Vasquez with something that looks almost like anticipation.
Elspeth, the COO, looking confused. Twelve board members total, plus lawyers, plus Paloma from communications, all staring at the secretary who definitely shouldn’t be here.
My face is already burning. I can feel the heat flooding my cheeks.
Great.
Fantastic.
Looking super professional right about now.
Nico gestures to an empty chair along the wall. I sit, laptop clutched against my chest like a shield.
He doesn’t sit. Instead, he stands at the head of the table, those broad shoulders squared, and addresses the room.
“Before this board votes on anything,” he says, “I need to set the record straight about something.”
Martin sighs dramatically. “Nico, this is hardly the time for—”
“The foundation restructuring proposal that addressed our donor crisis.” Nico’s voice cuts through like a blade. “The one that bought us time with our major funders. That proposal was written by Bree Dawson.”
Wait.
What?
“The communications strategy that salvaged three major partnerships after the initial scandal broke.” He’s not looking at me. He’s looking at the board. “Her work. The operational framework that’s keeping our clinics running during this crisis. She designed it.”
I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
“Every good decision I’ve made in the last two months,” Nico continues, and now his voice is quieter, rougher, “came from her. Every mistake was me ignoring her advice.”
The silence in the room is absolute.
Martin’s face has gone an interesting shade of red. “This is irrelevant to the motion at hand. It hardly matters what you’re secretary and lover—”
“It’s entirely relevant.” Nico finally turns to look at me, and his tender expression makes my heart break.
“You want to talk about my character? My judgment? My judgment was keeping the smartest person in this building invisible because I was too busy protecting my own walls to acknowledge her contributions.”
Oh God.
Oh God oh God oh God.
I’m going to cry. I can feel the tears building, hot and traitorous, and I absolutely cannot cry in front of Martin Hale and the entire board of directors.
Helena Vasquez is actually smiling.
“I’m implementing Bree’s foundation proposal,” Nico says, turning back to the board. “The full restructuring plan will be on your desks this week. And when the dust settles, we’ll be having a very different conversation about Ms. Dawson’s role in this company.”
Martin sputters. “You can’t just derail a governance vote with some claptrap from a subordinate you’re having an inappropriate rel—”
“She’s not a subordinate I’m having an inappropriate relationship with.” Nico’s voice goes cold. “She’s the strategic mind that’s been saving this company while I took credit for her work. A long overdue recognition that changes today.”
I grip my laptop so hard my knuckles go white.
He just said that. In front of everyone. In front of Martin freaking Hale and the board and God and everybody.
Two board members are exchanging glances. One of them is actually nodding. Helena looks like she’s about to applaud. Paloma, meanwhile, seems ready to throw up.
I don’t know what my face is doing, but it’s probably something embarrassing. Pride and shock and overwhelming emotion all fighting for dominance while I try very hard not to burst into tears in the middle of a hostile takeover attempt.
This is how he planned to make it up to me?
All those conversations about not being able to give me credit without making things worse.
He was waiting for this.
For the moment when it would matter most.
Nico’s eyes meet mine across the boardroom. Just for a second. Just long enough for me to see the vulnerability beneath the cold corporate exterior.
Then he turns back to the board. “Now, before we vote on anything, there’s one more matter I need to address.
” Nico’s jaw tightens and his hands flatten on the conference room table.
“Let’s talk about how this story actually reached the press, shall we?
” His gaze lands on Martin like a guided missile.
“And your sister’s role in orchestrating it. ”