14. Gideon
14
Gideon
I check my watch for the third time. The boardroom is filling with executives, their polite chatter masking the undercurrent of curiosity. Eight minutes until we start. Where the fuck is she?
The double doors open, and my shoulders relax imperceptibly. Ava enters with Ray hovering at a respectful distance behind her. My head of security catches my eye with a subtle nod that tells me everything proceeded according to protocol.
Ava looks... different. The tailored navy suit from my stylist fits her perfectly, but she walks like she’s wearing armor rather than clothing. Her wild curls are pulled back into a severe bun that makes her cheekbones more pronounced. The minimal makeup enhances her features while projecting professionalism.
She looks beautiful. She also looks nothing like herself.
“You’re early,” I say when she reaches me, keeping my voice neutral despite the relief I feel.
“Diana insisted we leave twenty minutes before your driver said was necessary.” Ava tugs at her blazer sleeve. “Is this really what people wear every day? It feels like a straitjacket.”
I suppress a smile. “You look the part.”
“I look like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s life.”
That’s exactly what this is, I remind myself. A performance with a contract and an expiration date.
“Follow my lead,” I murmur as I guide her to her seat at my right hand. “Remember, you don’t need to prove anything. Your presence and signature are what matter legally.”
She nods, but I can see the determination in her eyes. Ava Redwood—correction, Ava King—isn’t content to be a silent figurehead. She’s going to try to understand everything.
I wouldn’t expect any less of her.
Still, this could go badly.
Very badly.
Jonas enters, carrying a stack of presentation folders. He gives Ava a polite nod before leaning close to my ear. “Blackwell’s team filed additional paperwork this morning. Ella’s reviewing it, but initial assessment suggests they’re probing for weaknesses in our structure.”
“Expected. We’ll discuss after.” I turn to address the room as the last executive takes his seat. “Let’s begin.”
I maintain my usual efficiency as we move through the agenda. Quarterly projections. Acquisition updates. Development timelines. Throughout it all, I’m acutely aware of Ava beside me, her pen moving across the notepad as she takes careful notes.
When we reach the critical item, the establishment of the Spousal Asset Protection Trust, I introduce her formally.
“As you’re all aware, recent changes to our corporate structure include the creation of a parallel investment entity with my wife as trustee. The board will now formally recognize Ava King in this capacity.”
All eyes shift to her. I can practically hear their thoughts: Who is this woman? What does she know about business? How did she convince Gideon King to marry her? Or worse, they suspect the ruse, and wonder if I’m using her to save the company.
Fuckity fuck.
Ava straightens in her chair. A slight blush fills her cheeks with red heat. “Thank you for the welcome. I recognize my appointment is unconventional. I won’t pretend to have your experience, but I take this responsibility seriously.”
Simple words, delivered with unexpected poise. She’s not trying to be someone she’s not. That’s refreshing.
Our legal counsel presents the documents establishing Ava’s authority. She listens intently, asking occasional clarifying questions that reveal she’s been studying the briefing materials I provided. When she signs the final document, there’s a subtle shift in the room. Not full acceptance, but acknowledgment.
Then Burt Lee clears his throat. I immediately tense. My development director leans forward, his expression a practiced mask of concern.
“Mrs. King, while we appreciate your enthusiasm, I wonder if you fully understand the complexity of the position you’re assuming?” His tone is polite, but the implications are clear. “Perhaps Mr. King could arrange for some basic financial literacy training to help you navigate these waters.”
The condescension in his voice makes my jaw tighten. Beside me, Ava goes very still. Her face is bright red.
“Mr. Lee.” Her voice is calm but firm. I realize immediately that the redness is from anger, not anxiety. “I’ve spent the last three days reading every document related to this trust structure. I understand that my role is primarily legal rather than operational. I don’t need to be a financial expert because that’s what all of you are for.”
She pauses, glancing down at her notes. The red flush is slowly seeping away as she calms down. “However, I do have a question about the quarterly asset transfer protocol. The documentation mentions an automatic rebalancing algorithm, but doesn’t specify the oversight mechanism for unusual market fluctuations.”
The room goes silent. That’s actually a perceptive question, and one that addresses a deliberate omission in the materials I gave her. Its inclusion wasn’t necessary for her understanding, and I honestly didn’t think she’d even catch it.
Ella Winters, my lead counsel, raises an eyebrow before answering. “A valid concern, Mrs. King. The oversight mechanism exists in section 4.2 of the supplementary agreements, which allows the trustee— you —to pause automatic transfers if the fluctuation exceeds a pre-established threshold.”
Ava nods, making a note. “Thank you for clarifying.”
Burt’s expression hardens almost imperceptibly. “Perhaps Mrs. King could share her thoughts on the valuation metrics we’re using for the Peninsula Project assets? Since those represent a significant portion of the initial trust funding. ”
It’s a trap question. The Peninsula metrics are unnecessarily complex, designed specifically to dissuade Blackwell’s interest. Even Jonas needed several sessions to fully understand them.
Before Ava can respond, I intercept. “The Peninsula valuation methodology was established by our financial team after extensive analysis. Mrs. King’s role doesn’t require her to reimagine our valuation processes.”
“Of course,” Burt says smoothly. “I simply thought since Mrs. King has voting authority on trust asset transactions, she might want to understand what she’s approving.”
“I believe what Mr. Lee is suggesting,” Ava interjects before I can respond, “is that I might vote against the board’s recommendations out of ignorance.” She smiles politely. “Rest assured, while I may not have expertise in real estate valuation, I recognize the boundaries of my knowledge. I won’t be making arbitrary decisions about business matters.”
She looks directly at Burt. “However, I will ask questions when something isn’t clear to me. And I expect honest answers, not simplified explanations that omit crucial details because you assume I won’t understand them.”
Fucking hell. I hadn’t expected that. I’m unable to repress a sudden swelling pride.
“Well said, Mrs. King,” Jonas comments, not bothering to hide his approval. “Perhaps Mr. Lee could prepare a briefing on the Peninsula metrics for your review, since he’s particularly concerned about your understanding of that project.”
Burt forces a smile. “I’d be happy to.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I cut in, my voice sharper than intended. For some reason I bristle at the thought of having Ava alone in a room with Burt. “I’ll handle Mrs. King’s briefings personally. Now, let’s move on to the next agenda item.”
The remainder of the meeting proceeds efficiently, but I’m distracted by the undercurrents. Ava’s unexpected composure. Burt’s thinly veiled hostility. The speculative glances several board members exchange when they think I’m not looking.
When we adjourn, Jonas approaches as the other executives filter out of the room.
“She handled herself well,” he observes quietly. “Better than expected.”
“Were your expectations particularly low?” I ask with an edge to my voice.
Jonas gives me a measured look. “Given that she was an art student a week ago, yes. My expectations were realistic.”
“She’s smarter than people give her credit for.”
“Evidently.” He hesitates. “Burt was out of line.”
“He was testing boundaries.” I keep my expression neutral as I watch Ava speaking with Ella across the room. “I want his activities monitored more closely. Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Already on it. The security team flagged unusual access patterns to the Peninsula files last week.” Jonas lowers his voice further. “Are you sure she’s the right choice for this, Gideon? The arrangement works legally, but she’s now at the center of a corporate chess match she never signed up for.”
“She signed the contracts. She knew what she was getting into.”
“Did she? Because the way you jumped to her defense suggests you might be taking this more personally than planned.”
I turn to face my cousin fully. “I didn’t ‘jump to her defense.’ I intervened in an inappropriate line of questioning that would have wasted valuable meeting time.”
“If you say so.” Jonas doesn’t look convinced. “Just remember the terms of your agreement. When this is over—”
“I know the fucking terms,” I interrupt. “I wrote them.”
Ava approaches. She’s removed her blazer and looks marginally more comfortable.
“So,” she says with forced brightness, “did I completely embarrass myself, or just partially?”
“You did well,” I reply. “Better than many seasoned executives on their first day.”
She looks surprised at the compliment. “Really? Because it felt like I was fumbling through advanced calculus in the dark.”
“You asked intelligent questions and didn’t pretend to know things you don’t,” Jonas offers. “That puts you ahead of half the MBAs I’ve worked with.”
A genuine smile breaks across her face, transforming her features. Something tightens in my chest.
“Thank you for defending me against Mr. Lee,” she says, turning back to me. “Though I could have handled it.”
“I’m sure you could have,” I acknowledge. “But as your husband, it would look strange if I didn’t intervene when someone questioned your capabilities.”
“Right. The appearance of a united front.” Her smile fades slightly. “All part of the performance.”
“Yes,” I agree, ignoring the odd sense of disappointment her words trigger. “That’s exactly what it is.”
Jonas glances between us, clearly noting something in our exchange. “I should check on those reports. Ava, congratulations on surviving your first board meeting.”
After he leaves, we stand in awkward silence until Ava speaks.
“I should change before I suffocate in this suit.”
“Of course. Ray will escort you home.”
“And you?”
“I have meetings until late. Don’t wait up.”
She nods, understanding our routine already. I watch her walk away, the notepad still clutched in her hand. Something tells me she’ll review those notes tonight, preparing for the next challenge. Determined not to be merely decorative in this arrangement.
“Mr. King?” My assistant interrupts my thoughts. “Your next appointment is waiting.”
“Coming.” I gather my materials, pushing away the lingering image of Ava’s face when she thanked me for defending her.
Just business , I remind myself.
Even if something about her makes me want to protect her from men like Burt Lee and their thinly veiled contempt. Even if seeing her navigate this unfamiliar world with determination rather than defeat stirs something dangerously close to admiration inside me.
Because it doesn’t matter what I feel.
The contract specifically forbids it.