3. Gavin #2

It wasn’t fake. It was real. Every breath. Every kiss. Every sound Parker made in that elevator. The faint elevator ding is my only warning before the door bursts open.

Phil storms in like a hurricane of righteous fury. His jaw is clenched, his brown hair a mess like he’s been running his hands through it all morning. “Are you fucking serious?” he barks, ignoring protocol, manners, and the fact that I’m still technically his boss.

I don’t react. “Good morning.”

“Cut the bullshit.” He shuts the door with more force than necessary and stalks toward my desk. “You hired my sister. You said she’d be safe. And now she’s on every gossip blog from here to Singapore.”

I set my tablet down. “Yes, I’ve seen it.”

“And you’re not doing anything?”

“I’ve already launched a full internal review. The employees responsible for the leak have been terminated.”

His eyes narrow. “Don’t spin me.”

“I’m not spinning you, Phil. I’m managing an optics crisis in the way I’ve been trained to do.”

“She’s my sister.”

“I know.”

He grits his jaw. “She trusted me when I said this job would be good for her.”

“And it is. Her pay is significantly higher than standard, her benefits package?—”

“She’s being dragged across the internet.”

“No one’s named her. It’s just audio.”

“People know .”

I pause. “Do you?”

His expression hardens. “Do I what?”

“Do you know what happened?”

Phil hesitates. That moment of doubt is everything. I know him. I know how much it costs him to question his own instincts.

He’s not sure. He wants to believe Parker’s innocent. He’s not sure if I am. “It sounds like you on the audio,” he says finally. “Jack too. And Harrison.”

“I’m not in the habit of having sex in our elevators.” Technically, it’s not a habit if you don’t do it habitually.

He scoffs. “Since when?”

“Since always.”

“You dated Vanessa in this building.”

“And she worked in cybersecurity. She never reported to me. That relationship was cleared by legal.”

“This is different. Parker’s directly under you—” He winces, shaking his head. “I did not need that mental image.”

I sigh. “Phil. I have no idea what that audio is. Could it be a deepfake? Sure. Could it be a prank by Icon PR to rattle our image? Absolutely. Vanessa knows exactly where our weak points are. She knows how to strike.”

Phil rakes a hand through his hair and paces. “You’re telling me nothing happened?”

“I’m telling you that Parker is safe. No one here is going to hurt her, or compromise her. You know me.”

He stares at me. Hard. Like he’s trying to peel back all the layers I’ve spent years crafting. Finally, he mutters, “I want to believe you.”

“Then do.”

“I don’t want her reputation torn apart.”

“It won’t be.”

“Because you’ll protect her?”

“Because she’s earned that protection. Not because of me. Because of the job she’s doing.”

Phil nods slowly. The edge in his posture softens, just slightly. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek and looks toward the windows like they hold some answer he hasn’t found yet. “I’m trusting you,” he says eventually.

“You always have before. This isn’t any different.”

He heads for the door, pauses before pulling it open. “I meant it, you know,” he says, not turning back. “I vouched for you, for this place. I told her you were safe.”

He leaves before I can respond.

And I don’t move. Because I don’t deserve that trust. Not after what I did. What I still want to do.

I sit down slowly and drag a hand down my face. I didn’t lie. But I didn’t tell the truth either. I’m not sure which is worse.

The worst part? It wasn’t just Jack. It wasn’t just Harrison. It wasn’t just a moment of heat or confusion. I wanted her. And she wanted me.

That’s what keeps me up at night.

Not the scandal. Not the board. Not the fucking gossip blogs. It’s the memory of her lips. Of her eyes locking on mine like she saw through the suit, the position, the name, and still wanted more. It had nothing to do with what I am and everything to do with who I am.

That’s the part I can’t shake.

My phone buzzes again. I don’t want to look. It’s her. It’s always her.

I answer without thinking. Reflex. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“Do you think this is funny?” Vivian hisses.

“I think it’s a little after eight on a Monday morning, and you’ve called me twice.”

“You’re trending.”

“Comes with the territory.”

“Not like this. You are everywhere. YouTube, Twitter, TikTok. The hashtags are disgusting.”

“I’ve had legal issue takedowns.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that this is out. The board will be circling. Do you know how this looks?”

“Yes. Like a vaguely salacious, unconfirmed, low-resolution leak that no one can verify. It’s trashy, and it’ll pass.”

“It looks like you’re becoming your father.”

That hits harder than anything else she’s said today. My pulse spikes. My fingers clench the edge of the desk. “Don’t.”

“I warned you.”

“And I warned you.”

“You’re on the same path.”

“No. He lied. He cheated. He hollowed us out from the inside. I’m not a married man with dalliances. I’m single, and I’m allowed a personal life. Even if that tape was real, it doesn’t matter. The optics aren’t going to hurt VT.”

“You should’ve never hired her.”

“She’s the best damn assistant we’ve had in five years.” Might be exaggerating there, since she’s been with us less than a week, but who cares? Nothing I say will change her mind.

“She’s Phil’s sister. And she’s tempting you.”

I stare at the desk. My blood is roaring in my ears. Nothing good comes from continuing this conversation. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Don’t you?—”

I end the call.

She calls back immediately. I let it ring. Again. Ring. Again.

I power down the phone for the first time in months. It feels wrong, like I’ve broken the ultimate rule. Being out of contact with Mother? Unforgiveable in her eyes. But I don’t have it in me to care right now.

All I can think about is Parker.

I hadn’t planned to do it. I don’t even know why I didn’t stop it. Her perfume still lingers in my memory. Clean, warm, a little too sweet.

Like her.

God, I want her.

That’s the truth. Buried under all the corporate positioning and political maneuvering, under the responsibility and the name and the legacy—I want her.

I want to know how many freckles are under that silk blouse. I want to hear her gasp again. I want to watch her mouth form my name without a whisper of guilt between us.

I want everything I can’t have.

And I don’t know how long I can keep pretending otherwise.

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