Chapter 13
Bailey
Iwake up to London rain pelting the hotel windows and a knot of anxiety in my stomach that won’t dissolve no matter how much coffee I drink.
The investor summit resumes at ten, and all I can think about is Cassidy. Her smile last night was venomous, but then again, why? Whatever happened between her and Daniel to make her this vengeful?
Daniel knocks on my door at nine thirty, already dressed in a charcoal suit.
“Ready?”
“Do I have a choice?”
His jaw tightens. “Bailey—”
“I’m ready. Let’s go.”
The morning session drags. Presentations about market forecasts and investment portfolios blur together while I sit beside Daniel, hyper-aware of every breath he takes. His hand occasionally brushes mine when he reaches for his water glass.
At lunch, he announces we’re attending the afternoon press mixer.
My pulse spikes. “Is that necessary?”
“The investors will be there. We need to be seen.” His tone is clipped and dismissive.
I sigh. Is he seriously doing this again?
“Of course.” I force a smile. “Whatever you need.”
His expression flickers with regret, but it’s gone before I can be sure.
The press mixer is held in a glittering ballroom with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Thames. Champagne flows freely, and cameras flash as journalists mingle with investors and tech executives.
I stay close to Daniel, my hand resting on his arm. We look perfect together: the powerful CEO and his elegant girlfriend. No one would guess that we’ve barely spoken all day.
“Mr. Williams!” A reporter approaches with a recording device. “Can I get a quote about your relationship?”
“My personal life is personal,” Daniel says smoothly. “But I’m very happy.”
The reporter turns to me. “And you, Ms. Rodgers? How does it feel dating one of the most eligible bachelors in tech?”
Before I can answer, a familiar voice cuts through the air.
“I’m sure it feels absolutely magical.”
Cassidy. Not again.
“Cassidy.” Daniel’s voice goes cold enough to frost the windows. “I thought we were done last night.”
“Were we?” She stops in front of us, champagne glass in hand. “I don’t recall saying goodbye.”
“Cassidy, I’m warning you—”
“What are you going to do, Daniel? Make a scene?” She gestures around at the cameras and the watching crowd. “That would be quite out of character for someone so obsessed with control.”
Something shifts in Daniel’s posture. When he speaks, his voice is low and deadly calm.
“Fine. You want to talk about patterns? Let’s talk about yours.
” He steps forward slightly, putting himself between Cassidy and me.
“You show up uninvited, make veiled threats, and try to poison whatever happiness I’ve managed to find.
That’s your pattern, Cassidy. You can’t stand the idea that I moved on. ”
Her smile falters. “I’m just—”
“You’re being malicious. And you’re wrong about everything.”
The ballroom has gone quiet. Cameras are turning toward us. This is precisely what Cassidy wanted, but Daniel doesn’t seem to care anymore, not even when I tug him nervously.
“Bailey isn’t some pattern or performance,” he says clearly, and I can hear the fury underneath his controlled tone. “She’s not part of some cycle I’m doomed to repeat. She is the only person who has ever seen the real me, and she didn’t run.”
My breath catches.
Cassidy’s face hardens. “Daniel, you’re being dramatic—”
“I’m being honest.” He turns slightly. “For the first time in years, I’m being sincere. So let me make this crystal clear for you and anyone else who thinks they can come for her.”
He looks around the room, making eye contact with various investors and journalists. When he speaks again, his voice carries across the entire space.
“Bailey Rodgers is brilliant, talented, and kind in ways I don’t deserve. Anyone who tries to diminish her, question her, or use her to get to me will answer to me personally. That includes you, Cassidy.”
The silence is deafening.
Cassidy’s face has gone pale. “You’re going to regret this.”
“The only thing I regret is not saying it sooner. Now, get out of here.”
She opens her mouth, closes it, then spins on her heel and walks away. The click of her heels against marble echoes through the quiet room.
For a moment, no one moves. Then I see Whitmore approaching from the corner of my eye, his expression concerned.
“Daniel, perhaps we should—” he starts.
“And Whitmore?” Daniel’s voice stops him mid-step. “Stop flirting with Bailey. She’s not interested, and your attention is unwelcome.”
Whitmore’s face flushes red. “That’s preposterous! I was simply being friendly—”
“You were being inappropriate. If you can’t maintain boundaries, we can discuss this deal with someone who can.”
Whitmore sputters, looking around at the watching crowd. “This is highly irregular—”
“So is cornering someone’s girlfriend at a business function.” Daniel’s voice is ice. “Are we clear?”
A long pause. Then Whitmore nods stiffly. “Crystal clear.”
“Good.”
Daniel takes my hand firmly and pulls me toward the exit. People step aside, creating a path. I can feel every eye on us, hear the whispers starting.
This is going to be everywhere. The cameras caught everything.
We don’t speak until we’re in the elevator, doors closing on the shocked faces behind us.
The moment we’re alone, Daniel slams his palm against the wall. “Fuck.”
“Daniel—”
“I just lost my temper in front of half the London investment community.” He runs both hands through his hair. “There were cameras. This is going to be everywhere by morning.”
“I know.”
“Lottie is going to kill me. The board is going to have a field day. Cassidy got exactly what she wanted—”
“Daniel—”
“And Whitmore. Jesus Christ, I just threatened a major investor.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I might have just torpedoed the entire London deal.”
“Daniel, look at me.”
He doesn’t. I take a slow step back, letting my hands fall uselessly to my sides as I watch him, the anger and panic etched into his face. I can’t reach him, not tonight, not like this. So I turn, my shoulders tight, backing him for the rest of the ride.
***
The car ride back to the hotel is suffocating.
Daniel stares out the window all through, jaw clenched, saying nothing. The gray buildings and red buses on the London streets blur past. I’ve tried, but I can’t stop replaying Daniel’s words.
She is the only one who has ever seen the real me.
It’s probably shallow of me to be focused on that right now, considering there’s probably a mountain of problems awaiting us after that scene at the party, but the way he’d said them … it’s almost like he meant every syllable.
“What you said back there,” I finally venture. “What did you mean?”
“Nothing.” His tone is flat. “PR control.”
“Daniel—”
“It was what the situation required. Nothing more.”
He’s lying. I can see it in the tension of his shoulders. He won’t even meet my eyes.
“You can lie to Cassidy,” I say quietly. “You can lie to all those people, but don’t lie to me.”
His hands clench into fists on his lap. “Bailey, leave it alone.”
“No.” Something in me refuses to back down. “You said I was the only person who had seen the real you. What did you mean?”
“It meant nothing.”
“It meant something to me.”
The car pulls up to the hotel. Daniel is out before it fully stops, striding toward the entrance without waiting. I follow, heels clicking against wet pavement.
We don’t speak in the elevator, and the silence is even heavier. When we reach the penthouse, I follow him down the hallway to his room.
“Bailey, go to your room.”
“No.” I position myself between him and his door. “Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“You’re lying again.”
His eyes finally meet mine. “You need to stop pushing.”
“Why? What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid—”
“You are.” I step closer. “You’re terrified. And I don’t understand why.”
He exhales hard, eyes closing. For a moment, I think he’s going to push past me, then his shoulders sag slightly, and when he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.
“You make me forget.”
“Forget what?”
His answer is low, raw: “The hell I grew up in. The noise, the guilt, the fire. It’s always there until you are.”
“Then let me in,” I take a small step closer. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
He doesn’t answer. For a moment, I see the thirteen-year-old boy who lost everything, and then the man who built walls so high no one could reach him. The person who has been alone for so long has forgotten what it feels like to be seen.
Then the mask slams back into place.
“Goodnight, Bailey.” Daniel steps around me and opens his door.
“Daniel, please—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow for the flight home.”
The door closes with a soft click, leaving me alone in the hallway.
I stand there for a long moment, pulse racing, heart aching. Through the door, I hear nothing.
He finally let me see the cracks in his armor, and I’m already too deep to pull back. I can’t walk away now.