Chapter Twenty-Four
Simon
The conference room felt smaller with every passing minute.
I stood at the window, phone pressed to my ear, listening to the hollow rhythm of ringing that I already knew would go unanswered.
When Raina’s voicemail message played—cheerful, professional, completely at odds with the situation—I ended the call without leaving a message and shoved the phone back into my pocket.
Fourth call. Fourth time straight to voicemail.
I braced my hands against the windowsill and forced myself to breathe. Count backward from ten. Bury the panic clawing at my chest before I had to face Alexander again.
Where the hell are you, Raina?
It was nearly noon, an hour past our scheduled meeting time with Alexander and two hours since she should have delivered the contract.
I’d sent a dozen texts, each one more urgent than the last. No response.
No explanation. Nothing but silence from the woman I’d trusted with something this important.
The woman I’d trusted with everything.
Behind me, I could hear Alexander shifting in his chair, and the soft tap of his fingers against the polished conference table.
He’d been patient at first. Understanding even, when I’d explained that my assistant was running late with the documents.
But that patience had eroded steadily over the past hour, replaced by something that looked uncomfortably like doubt.
I didn’t blame him. If our positions were reversed, I’d be questioning this partnership too.
If a potential business partner couldn’t even ensure the most critical meeting of all went smoothly—the final signing, the moment that was supposed to cement everything—what did that say about how they’d handle the challenges down the road?
How did I let this happen?
The question burned through me, bitter and familiar. Because I knew better. I’d learned this lesson before—learned it the hard way, more than once—and still I’d let my guard down.
Chuck had been the first, someone I’d trusted implicitly.
We’d built that athletic wear company together from nothing, only for Kurt and me to discover he’d been cutting corners behind our backs, all to pad the profit margins without telling us.
By the time we found out, the damage to the business was done.
I’d sworn I’d never trust anyone that blindly again.
Then came Carla. My first assistant when Liam and I launched Powers Investment Group.
She’d seemed competent, reliable, until she fumbled a critical deal in our first year and nearly torpedoed our reputation before we’d even established one.
The fallout had taken months to repair, and I’d had to work twice as hard to rebuild the trust we’d lost.
After that, I’d built walls. Kept people at arm’s length professionally. Verified everything myself and trusted no one with anything that truly mattered.
Until Raina.
She’d slipped past my defenses so gradually I hadn’t even noticed it happening. Her competence, her warmth, the way she anticipated my needs before I voiced them. She’d made me believe I could rely on someone again. Made me want to rely on her.
And now this.
Just last night, she’d assured me everything was handled.
The contract would be printed and delivered to Alexander’s office by ten, ready for his review and signatures.
I could have sent a backup copy to Alexander’s assistant.
I could have printed one myself and brought it from my meeting at GalvaTech this morning.
But I hadn’t thought it necessary. I’d thought I could count on her.
Fool. The word echoed in my head, harsh and damning.
I’d let my feelings for her cloud my judgment, let the personal bleed into the professional in exactly the way I’d always warned myself against. And now I was standing here, empty-handed and humiliated, while a deal I’d spent weeks cultivating slipped through my fingers.
Was this deliberate? The thought surfaced before I could stop it, ugly and unwelcome. But once it took root, I couldn’t shake it loose.
Raina and Chuck, standing in that hallway at Neptune’s Kingdom. Their conversation cutting off the moment I appeared. The way she’d brushed off my questions, called it nothing important.
What if it hadn’t been nothing?
Chuck had made it clear he wanted Alexander’s business.
He’d been circling this deal like a vulture, looking for any opportunity to swoop in.
And Raina… Raina had been positioned perfectly to sabotage everything.
She had access to the contracts, knew the timeline, understood exactly how important today was.
No. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the suspicion. Raina wouldn’t do that to me. She’s not like Chuck. She’s not like Carla.
But the doubt had already taken hold, feeding on my fear and frustration. Because the alternative—that she’d simply forgotten, that something had come up, that there was a reasonable explanation—required me to trust her. And right now, trust felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford.
I was a man who controlled every aspect of his life—his business, his environment.
I’d built my success on preparation, contingency plans, and never leaving anything to chance.
And this situation—Raina unreachable, the contract missing, Alexander’s faith in me visibly wavering—was so far outside my control that it made my skin crawl.
I hated this feeling. Hated the helplessness of it, the vulnerability. Hated that I’d let myself end up here again.
Forcing my expression into something resembling calm, I turned back to face the conference room.
Alexander sat at the head of the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp.
He’d pushed back from the table slightly, arms crossed over his chest, the body language of a man who was no longer fully invested in this meeting.
“Any luck reaching her?” he asked. His tone was mild, but I caught the undercurrent of impatience.
A fresh wave of humiliation washed over me. I shook my head, the words tasting like ash when I spoke. “I’m so sorry about this, Alexander. I’m sure she’s on her way.” I attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace. “She must have run into traffic.”
Even as I said it, I knew how hollow it sounded. Traffic didn’t explain unanswered calls. Traffic didn’t explain radio silence for over two hours.
Alexander’s expression said he wasn’t buying it either. He glanced at his watch—pointedly—and tapped his fingers against the table in a rhythm that matched my mounting dread.
“Well,” he said slowly, “I only blocked out an hour for this meeting. Even if Raina arrived right now, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have adequate time to do a final review of the contract before signing.
” He paused, his gaze meeting mine with uncomfortable directness.
“I like to be thorough about these things. Make sure everything is laid out exactly as we discussed.”
The words were reasonable. The implication beneath them was not.
He doesn’t trust me anymore.
I could see it in the careful way he chose his words, the slight distance that had crept into his demeanor.
An hour ago, Alexander had been ready to sign.
Eager, even. Now he was retreating behind a wall of professional courtesy, and I knew from experience that once that wall went up, it rarely came back down.
I couldn’t even blame him. If I were in his position, if I’d shown up to finalize a partnership and the other party couldn’t even produce the basic documents, I’d be reconsidering too.
I’d be wondering what other balls might get dropped down the line.
Wondering if Chuck, for all his flaws, would have let something this fundamental slip through the cracks.
My stomach churned with a toxic mix of anger and shame.
“How about we call this a day?” Alexander suggested, rising from his chair. His voice was polite, but there was a finality to it that made my chest tighten. “We can reschedule for later in the week. Give everyone a chance to… regroup.”
The hesitation before regroup said everything. It felt more like reconsider. Alexander wasn’t sure there would be a rescheduled meeting. Wasn’t sure this partnership was worth the risk anymore.
I’d watched deals fall apart before. I knew the signs—the careful distancing, the noncommittal language, the polite retreat that preceded a quiet withdrawal.
“Of course,” I heard myself say. “I appreciate your understanding. I’ll have my office reach out to reschedule at your earliest convenience.”
We shook hands. His grip was firm but brief, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. And then he was gone, leaving me alone in the conference room with nothing but my failure for company.
The elevator ride down felt endless. I stared at my reflection in the polished metal doors—jaw tight, eyes hard, every line of my body rigid with barely contained fury. But beneath the anger was something worse. Something that felt uncomfortably like devastation.
I’d done this to myself. I’d let someone in. Let myself believe that this time would be different, that Raina was different. And she’d proven me wrong in the most spectacular way possible.
Or maybe you’re wrong about her.
The thought whispered through my mind, but I shoved it aside. I couldn’t afford doubt right now. Couldn’t afford to make excuses for her when the evidence was so damning. She’d had one job—one job—and she hadn’t even bothered to show up, text me, or call.
The elevator opened onto the lobby, and I strode toward the exit, my shoes clicking sharply against the marble floor. Sunlight hit my face as I pushed through the glass doors, temporarily blinding me.
“Simon!”
The voice cut through the ambient noise of the street, and I froze.
Raina was rushing toward me across the parking lot, her blonde hair disheveled around her shoulders, her careful professional appearance in disarray.
She moved like someone who’d been running—breathless, urgent, slightly wild around the edges.
She stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could see the flush in her cheeks, the distress in her eyes. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I had to—”
“Late?” The word came out cold and sharp enough to cut. I barely recognized my own voice. “The meeting’s been cancelled. The whole damn deal might be off after this disaster.”
Her face crumpled. “Oh no.” Her gaze shifted to the building behind me, as if she could somehow fix this by sheer force of will. “Maybe if I talk to Alexander, explain why—”
“Explain?” I cut her off, not wanting to hear whatever excuse she’d manufactured.
She’d let me down—completely, catastrophically—and hadn’t even had the courtesy to call.
“There’s nothing to explain. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting you anywhere near Alexander right now.
For all I know, you’d just make it worse. ”
Her eyes snapped back to mine, and I saw something fracture in her expression. Hurt. Confusion. And beneath it, the first flicker of anger.
“What are you saying?”
I should have stopped. Should have taken a breath, let her speak, given her a chance to explain. But the fear and betrayal churning in my gut had built to a pressure I couldn’t contain, and the words spilled out before I could stop them.
“Are you working for Chuck?”
She recoiled as if I’d struck her, taking an unsteady step backward. “What?”
“Was this planned?” I pressed on, the accusation gaining momentum even as some part of me screamed to stop.
“He couldn’t get Alexander’s business on his own, so he got you to sabotage my chances instead?
” A bitter smile twisted my lips. “It’s clever, I’ll give you that.
Make me trust you with something critical, then destroy my credibility by not following through.
Chuck always did know how to play the long game. ”
Raina stared at me like she was seeing a stranger. Her face had gone pale, her eyes wide with a shock that looked genuine, but I’d been fooled by genuine-looking things before.
“You can’t actually believe that.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Simon, you know me.”
“I thought I did.”
The words landed between us, heavy and unforgiveable. I watched her absorb them, watched the hurt bloom across her features, and felt something twist painfully in my chest. But I couldn’t back down now. Couldn’t let her see how much this was destroying me too.
“Please.” She stepped toward me, her hand reaching out before falling back to her side. “Just listen. I had every intention of being here at ten like we planned, but—”
“But you weren’t here.” I cut her off again, afraid that if I let her finish, my resolve would crumble.
Her voice was thick with emotion, her eyes bright with unshed tears, and every instinct I had was screaming at me to stop this, but I couldn’t.
“You weren’t here, Raina. You didn’t call.
You didn’t text. You just… vanished. And now a deal I’ve been working on for weeks is falling apart because I made the mistake of trusting you. ”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to claw them back immediately. They were cruel and they hit exactly where I knew they would hurt most.
What the hell is wrong with you?
The voice in my head sounded horrified, and it was right to be. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t who I wanted to be, and especially not with Raina. But the fear had taken over, the old wounds ripped fresh and bleeding, and I couldn’t seem to stop the destruction.
When I finally forced myself to look at her again, Raina’s expression had changed. The hurt was still there, but it had been joined by something else. Something that looked like resignation.
“You know what?” Her voice was quiet, but steady. “Maybe Mr. Hull was right. Maybe I don’t belong in the business world.” Her chin was lifted, her shoulders straight, but I could see the devastation beneath the dignity. “So I quit.”
Two words that felt like a slap to my face, which I undoubtedly fucking deserved for the things I’d said. She turned on her heel and walked away, her head held high, refusing to let me see her break.
I stood there, rooted to the spot, watching her go. My brain screamed at me to move, to go after her, to fix this before it was too late. But my body wouldn’t cooperate, frozen by the dawning realization of what I’d just done.
I’d let fear win.
Fear of being betrayed again. Fear of being made a fool. Fear of trusting someone and having that trust shattered. I’d taken every wound Chuck and Carla had inflicted and projected them onto Raina, who had done nothing but prove herself to me, over and over again.
And now she was gone.
By the time my legs finally moved, Raina was already in her car. I started toward her, my pace quickening to a jog, but she pulled out of the parking space before I could reach her. I watched her taillights disappear around the corner, taking with them the chance for me to make this right.
Instead, I stood alone in the parking lot, sunlight warm on my face, feeling more lost than I’d ever felt in my life.