Chapter 13
Breck
It’s been seven days since I had Remy pressed against a server rack, her breath catching as she fell apart in my arms. She’s gone back to professional distance, and I’m stuck replaying the best sex of my life in my mind like an idiot.
I don’t regret it. Not for a second. But I hide that truth behind smiles and casual conversation, because that’s what she needs. And I’ve perfected the art of being what people need.
Remy thinks I’ll lose interest, but she doesn’t understand that every woman before her was practice for someone I’d never actually found.
Until her.
I give her space. I keep things light. I make her laugh during meetings and bring her coffee exactly how she likes it. I don’t mention how I can still taste her or hear the sounds she made when she came.
I’m patient. I can wait, even if it’s killing me.
The executive conference room is full for our Monday morning meeting. Ansel sits at the head of the table, and Enzo sprawls in his usual chair, leaning back, which is annoying Ansel as usual.
Remy sits three seats down, reviewing notes on her laptop. And Damon sits across from her, radiating hostility that’s becoming harder to ignore.
I take my seat and pull up the agenda on my tablet. Standard stuff—project updates, resource allocation, upcoming client deliverables.
Ansel starts the meeting. “Let’s begin with the Geneva account. Damon, you were handling their contract renewal. Where are we?”
But Ansel knows exactly where we are on the account. Geneva renewed their contract yesterday, but only after Remy and Ansel quietly fixed everything Damon broke.
I didn’t know Ansel was planning to confront Damon this morning
Damon straightens in his chair. “Actually, we have a problem. The renewal fell through. Geneva pulled out last week.”
Ansel’s fingers stop drumming. He knows exactly what happened, but he wants to hear Damon’s version. “Explain.”
“The security assessment Remy conducted last month flagged issues that made them nervous. They decided to go with a competitor who promised a cleaner audit.” Damon looks directly at Remy. “If the assessment had been more… diplomatic, we might have retained them.”
Remy’s face goes carefully blank, but I catch the slight tightening around her eyes.
Enzo sits up straighter. “Go on.”
Damon seems oblivious to the trap he’s walking into.
“I’m sure she meant well.” Damon’s tone drips with false sympathy. “But sometimes being too honest costs us clients. Geneva specifically mentioned her report as the reason they’re walking.”
Remy opens her mouth, but Ansel raises a hand.
“Let me pull up the file.” His fingers fly across his laptop keyboard. “Geneva account, security assessment, dated three weeks ago.”
We wait in silence as he scans the document, looking for what he needs to prove Damon right or wrong. I watch Remy, noting how her hands have clenched in her lap, knuckles white.
Ansel turns the screen toward us. “Remy’s assessment identified three critical vulnerabilities in Geneva’s infrastructure. Vulnerabilities that, if exploited, would have exposed them to significant liability.”
He turns the laptop so we can all see the screen. “Her recommendations were sound, actionable, and presented with clear explanations of both the risks and the solutions.”
Damon rolls his shoulders back. “Sure, but the way she presented it—”
“Was professional and appropriate,” Ansel cuts him off.
“What I’m more interested in is this.” He pulls up another document.
“The follow-up proposal you sent to Geneva. The one where you promised solutions to problems that don’t exist and quoted them prices that were thirty percent below our standard rates. ”
Enzo leans forward. “You undercut our pricing?”
“I was trying to save the account.” Damon’s defenses are up now. “Remy’s report scared them, so I offered incentives to keep them on board.”
Ansel scrolls through the document. “You promised implementation timelines we couldn’t meet, guaranteed security standards we don’t offer, and structured payment terms that would have cost us money. And when Geneva’s technical team reviewed your proposal, they realized it was nonsense.”
He looks up, and anger flashes across his face, which is a stark contrast to his typical stoicism. “That’s why they left. Not because of Remy’s assessment. Because you tried to bullshit your way through a contract you didn’t understand.”
Damon’s face flushes. “That’s not what happened.”
“It’s exactly what happened.” Remy’s response is quiet but steady. She pulls up her own laptop. “I caught the errors in your proposal two hours after you sent it. I flagged them for you via email and offered to help revise before Geneva responded.”
She turns her screen so everyone can see the email chain. “You told me to stay in my lane and let you handle client relationships.”
“I didn’t realize you were keeping receipts.” Damon’s words come out bitter.
“I keep records of everything.” Remy doesn’t flinch. “I always document security concerns and protocol violations. Your proposal had both.”
I watch Damon’s hands curl into fists on the table. “So, you went behind my back?”
“She came to me,” Ansel interjects. “Three days ago. When it became clear Geneva was going to walk, she provided the full documentation showing where the breakdown occurred. She tried to fix your mistakes quietly to save your ass. She gave you a chance. You’re just lucky that Remy and I were able to get them to renew yesterday. ”
The silence that follows is heavy enough to suffocate. Enzo breaks it. “How many other accounts have you mishandled?”
Damon is seething. “I haven’t mishandled any accounts.”
“How many?” Ansel’s question is stern, direct.
Damon looks between the three of us, realizing he’s cornered. “Look, I’ve been under a lot of pressure. Having Remy here, seeing her every day after everything that happened between us… It’s been difficult. I made some mistakes. But I can fix this.”
“By blaming her for your incompetence?” I can’t keep the anger out of my response. “By trying to tank her reputation to make yourself look good?”
Damon’s eyes narrow. “Stop taking sides. She’s not as fucking perfect as you’re all making her out to be.”
“Damon, your job performance has really gone downhill.” Ansel closes his laptop, ignoring Damon’s comment about Remy. “Doing your job with integrity matters. And that is something you seem to have forgotten how to do.”
I watch Damon’s expression change from defensive to calculating. He’s trying to figure out how to spin this, how to make himself the victim.
Remy stands. “If we’re done here, I have work to do.”
“Sit down.” Ansel’s command is gentle but firm. “We’re not done.”
She hesitates, then sinks back into her chair.
Ansel looks at Damon. “You’re taking a leave of absence. Two weeks. Mandatory.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m completely serious. You need time to figure out whether you want to be part of this company or whether your personal issues are going to continue compromising our operations.”
Damon laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Personal issues? You mean Remy? The woman who—”
“Choose your next words very carefully.” Enzo’s threat is unmistakable.
Damon looks between the three of us again, and for one unguarded second, I see the look of someone watching their entire world collapse. “You’re all protecting her. All three of you.” His gaze lands on me. “Are you fucking her?”
He still loves her. That’s the worst part. He still loves her, and he’s watching us take her away.
Fuck. There’s no way he could know.
I should deny it. My brothers don’t even know. But I’m not a liar, so I keep my mouth shut. Instead, I meet his eyes and watch him process the truth I don’t speak.
“That’s what I thought.” Damon shoves back from the table. “So that’s how it is. She spreads her legs, and suddenly, I’m the bad guy?”
Ansel stands so fast, his chair rocks back. “Get out. Now.”
“Gladly.” Damon grabs his tablet. “But don’t come crying to me when she shows her true colors. When she gets bored and moves on to the next successful guy who can give her what she wants.”
The door slams behind Damon hard enough to rattle the glass walls.
Remy sits perfectly still, staring at her laptop like it might provide an escape route.
Ansel moves to the chair beside her. “Remy, are you okay?”
“I should resign.” Her words are barely above a whisper. “This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. I’m causing problems between you and your friend. Destroying relationships that matter.”
“No.” All three of us say it simultaneously.
I take the chair on her other side. “Damon is destroying his own relationships. You’re just refusing to be his scapegoat.”
“Breck’s right.” Ansel leans forward. “What happened today wasn’t about you. That was about Damon’s inability to take responsibility for his failures.”
Enzo crosses his arms. “He’s undermined you since day one. And we made excuses for him.”
Remy looks up, and I see tears. “He is your best friend.”
“He was.” Ansel doesn’t sugarcoat his response. “But friendship doesn’t mean blind loyalty. It means holding each other accountable. You didn’t destroy anything. Damon did that himself when he stopped pretending to be the person we thought we knew.”
She swipes at her eyes, wiping away tears that have escaped. “I still feel like this is my fault.”
“It’s not.” I reach over and squeeze her hand briefly before letting go, maintaining the professional distance she needs. “None of this is on you.”
Ansel stands. “Take the rest of the day off. Go home, decompress. We’ll handle the Geneva situation and everything else.”
Remy shakes her head. “I have the implementation review at three.”
“I’ll handle it.” Enzo waves a hand dismissively. “I wrote half the code anyway. Go home, Remy. That’s an order.”
She looks between the three of us, then finally nods. “Okay. Thank you.”
After she leaves, the three of us take a minute to decompress.
Ansel speaks first. “We need to talk about Damon.”