Chapter 36
Xander
The crisp morning breeze rustled through the pages of a rolled-up newspaper Sloan was carrying under her arm, with a cannister
of oats held between her hands. The autumn leaves sprayed the park in reds and oranges. She approached the bench we always
sat at in Central Park.
“You know, for a man who loves a game, you sure can suck the fun out of a hostile takeover,” she grumbled lightly, taking
a seat next to me.
I chuckled.
My new counsel—at a different firm—sent a formal offer for a complete buyout of Hightower Energy. Thanks to Sloan, I knew
it was only a matter of days before the board would vote Victor out and so I figured I’d settle this easily. An inflated offer
was sent to the board yesterday before the opening bell on the New York Stock Exchange. They gladly accepted it knowing the
stock would plummet, thinking they got a deal.
They did. But I wasn’t concerned. It would skyrocket once I secured Herrera. And now I had the shiny object to lure him in
with.
“Cleaner is better. Fewer waves,” I attested.
She handed me the cannister and let out a long sigh. “And, in case you’re wondering, I figured it out.”
Feeding the ducks in Central Park was a tradition we had for years.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“The endgame.” Sloan put the newspaper aside. I held the cannister open and she took a scoop of oats out.
“What do you mean?” I asked again, except the sudden elevation in my heart rate and the turn my stomach just took meant I
already knew what she meant.
I wasn’t even sure why it made me so anxious. I’d always planned to tell her.
She raised a brow; concern battled with her will to push. Instead of saying anything, she stood and walked to the water’s
edge, spreading the oats evenly over the surface for the ducks. Like she was waiting me out.
Tradition aside, the ducks were when Sloan and I talked. Actually talked. After years of me falling into bad habits when I
couldn’t handle the changes in my life. Losing my parents. Losing Reina. Spinning out in all manner of unhealthy ways—drinking,
drugs, all of it.
This random activity became mandatory and every week we made time to make sure everything was okay. And if it wasn’t, we fixed
it.
“Xan, look.” Sloan’s face went rigid when she turned back to me and took her seat again. “I didn’t press about this earlier
because it felt great to take those horrible people down. But SunCorp will make extended-life batteries. And I’m going to
venture a guess here. Chen Tech might be able to use it?”
“Xu Enterprises, too,” I added, feeling anxiety push air out of my lungs. “But yeah, I want to have a say in the same industry
Chen Tech and Xu Enterprises operate in.”
“Why?” Sloan wondered glancing up in thought. “How could you know Silas would try something?”
“I didn’t,” I admitted. “But they both used familial obligation as a means of control over Penelope. So I wanted a means of control over them. If she was being forced into something and needed an out, now we have a way to set terms.” Silently, I acknowledged the other reason. This gave me a way to sort of hold on to her. Nobody would be able to pull her back to Singapore, unless she wanted to go. And that was the root of my anxiety.
Sloan’s smile stretched across her face. Her brows lifted; her chest filled with air. The fact that I’d asked her to skirt
professional ethics didn’t even register on her face because I was sure she was wrapped up in what I’d just confirmed for
her. The thing that was going to come bursting out of her mouth any second.
“You love Pen!” she exclaimed in hushed glee.
Obviously. So incredibly obvious that it scared the living shit out of me every day, knowing that she might still go. I tried
to show her all the ways we could be happy, together, here. I tried to tell her—without the terrifying act of actually telling
her—how much I cared for her by showing her that all I wanted was to make her happy. To be the one she could be completely
herself with.
“Sloan.” I pleaded for her to not overreact to the news.
I’d been in enough relationships when I didn’t feel that feeling to know when I did. That connection, the magnetic draw to someone else you just couldn’t fight. I felt it for Penelope
that night in her kitchen and the next morning with the poppies.
Sloan smacked a hand over her mouth. Stood up. She took a few steps to the water’s edge, turned to the ducks and lifted her
hand off her mouth momentarily. “He loves Pen.”
“You know I hate it when you talk to the ducks like I’m not here.”
“I knew it.” She whipped around, pointing at me, looking a little maniacal. She turned her head to the ducks. “I knew it.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
A fourteen-year-old Sloan bull-rushed into my life and became my sister. My confidante. My best friend. I knew why I couldn’t leave Manhattan when Reina asked and so did Reina. The Amaris were my family as much as Marcus was and, after everything, I refused to ever lose my family again. They all held me together and without them, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t fall apart. And that’s what made telling Penelope feel impossible. I wanted to hold on to her, here .
“When are you going to tell her?”
I could tell her about our new position of power, but it wasn’t sealed yet. She didn’t ever need to know the lengths we went
through to get it. That didn’t matter now. It was done. “Tell her what?”
Sloan’s mouth hung open and she smacked my shoulder with the back of her hand.
“Jesus, Sloan.” A crack splintered down my arm and I rolled it back. “Not the ring hand; we’ve talked about this.”
“Xan.” She crossed her arms. “When are you telling her you did something absolutely batshit because you love her ?”
“I feel like corporate espionage isn’t really Penelope’s love language.”
Everything felt so perfect. I was terrified to let anything change.
Once it was done, giving her this information—leverage over Silas—meant she had all she needed to go.
She probably would.
And I wasn’t ready to face that yet.
“What if she doesn’t...” I murmured.
What if everything, all of this, dropped me back to exactly where I started. Her choosing to leave and me left with nothing
but all the pain.
“It’s not so scary,” Sloan ventured quietly. “A leap of faith.”
“Said the woman who took five years to admit she had feelings for my brother,” I mumbled.
Another smack against my shoulder warned me to be serious. “I mean it, Xan. When you find the right person, everything that felt impossible just isn’t anymore. Tell her.”
“I will,” I said, so unsure I knew Sloan could hear it in my voice. “Stop worrying. I’m happy.”
She shook her head. “?‘Happy’ and ‘not sad’ are two different things. Chase happy, Xan.”