Chapter 21 #2
Why is NO ONE asking who leaked that private video?
The timing is too convenient. Something else is going on here.
“#JusticeForTashi is trending,” Leo said, scrolling further.
“People are questioning the timing. ‘As a longtime patron of Olympus Royale, I can attest to the K bros’ unwavering commitment to providing exceptional guest experiences. I didn’t believe the allegations of money laundering, and I don’t believe these new claims either.
’ Another line, from the same poster—‘Something is going on, and it’s not wrongdoing by the K bros. ”
“Won’t matter if we can’t prove it,” Orion said grimly. “Public opinion doesn’t win Gaming Commission hearings.”
“Speaking of which,” I said, my voice small. “The hearing is in two days. What happens now? Do you even have to appear if you’re not management anymore?”
“We’re still majority shareholders,” Orion said. “And the allegations involve us directly. We’ll be there.”
“And so will I,” I added.
“Tashi—” Leo started.
“No. I’m not hiding while you face the Gaming Commission.”
Orion studied me for a long moment. “The hearing will be brutal. Wilder will make it about misconduct, inappropriate relationships, and abuse of power. He’ll paint you as a victim or a seductress—whichever narrative does more damage.”
“I know.”
“They’ll ask invasive questions,” Leo continued gently. “About our relationship. About consent and the elevator footage. It won’t be easy.”
“None of this has been easy.” I met their eyes. “But running away won’t make it better. It’ll just make Henri and Wilder’s narrative the only one people hear.”
“Then we need a strategy,” Orion said, shifting into CEO mode even though he wasn’t CEO anymore.
“Neville’s still working the digital forensics,” Leo said. “He is tracking the video leak, analyzing the doctored elevator footage involving Marcus, and following the money trails.”
“And Marta’s hunting down Henri’s past,” I added. “If we can prove he had a personal vendetta—”
“It might not matter to the Gaming Commission,” Orion interrupted. “Their concern is whether we violated gaming regulations. Whether there was misconduct. Whether we’re fit to hold a gaming license.”
“Even though you don’t manage the hotel anymore?” I asked.
“We still own it. And ownership can be revoked if the Commission determines we’re unsuitable.” Orion’s jaw tightened. “Which is precisely what Henri’s counting on. Get us removed from management, then get our ownership revoked. Then he and whoever’s backing him can buy us out for nothing.”
“That’s the endgame,” Leo said. “Complete takeover. And they’re using you as the weapon to make it happen.”
The words hit me like a slap. “I’m sorry. I’m so—”
“Don’t.” Orion’s voice was sharp. “Don’t apologize for being the target of someone else’s vendetta. Henri chose to weaponize you. That’s on him, not you.”
“But if I hadn’t—”
“If you hadn’t what?” Leo challenged. “Existed? Been good at your job? Caught our attention? None of those things are your fault.”
I wanted to believe them and to stop feeling like the catalyst for their destruction. But the guilt sat heavy in my chest, a weight I couldn’t shake. I trembled, and the tears fell for real.
“Hey,” Leo said. He sat next to me and put his arm around me, pulling me close against his chest. “We’ve got you.”
Orion crossed the room and knelt in front of me, taking my hands in his. “Tashi. Look at me.”
I forced my eyes up to meet his.
“You are not a weapon,” he said, his voice fierce. “You are not a problem. You are not something we need to fix or sacrifice for or protect ourselves from. You are the woman we love. And we’re going to fight for you with everything we have.”
“We love you,” Leo said softly against my hair, pressing a kiss to my temple. “All three of us. That doesn’t change because things got tough.”
“But you lost—”
“We lost a job,” Orion interrupted. “We didn’t lose what matters.” He lifted my hands to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. “We still have each other. We still have you. That’s what we’re fighting for.”
Leo tilted my chin up and kissed me, slow and tender, tasting the salt of my tears. When he pulled back, Orion was there, his kiss deeper, more possessive, like he was staking a claim against everyone who wanted to tear us apart.
“We’re not giving up,” Orion said against my lips. “On the hotel, on our reputation, on us. So, you can’t give up either.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Promise us,” Leo said. “Promise you won’t run.”
“I promise,” I whispered. “But what about the Gaming Commission?” I asked, forcing myself to focus on the practical. “About us. About the relationship.”
Orion and Leo exchanged a glance.
“The truth,” Orion said finally. “That four consenting adults entered into an unconventional relationship. That no company policies were violated because we had no policies prohibiting relationships between executives. That your employment was based entirely on merit and performance.”
“They’ll ask if we coerced you,” Leo said quietly. “If we used our positions to pressure you into the relationship.”
“Then I’ll tell them every choice I made was mine. That you gave me every opportunity to say no, to leave, to establish boundaries, and that I chose all three of you.”
Admitting that out loud made my chest ache. But it was true. Despite the chaos, despite the consequences, despite everything—I’d choose them again.
“Then that’s what we tell them,” Orion said. “And we let the chips fall where they may.”
I buried my head in Leo’s shoulder while Orion landed a kiss on the back of my neck.
I heard, rather than saw, my door open, and Ares walked in. “What’s this? Getting started without me?”
“She was upset,” Orion said. “So, we offered comfort.”
“Is that what you call it?” growled Ares.
“We told her we love her,” Leo said. “Unless we misrepresented you.”
Ares scowled. “You know I’m a man of action instead of words, so all of you, get on that bed.”