Chapter 2
Liam
I’ve stopped tracking the investor calls individually. They all want the same thing. Reassurance. Proof. A statement that makes this morning’s headlines disappear.
James Erickson is on speaker. I can hear him breathing.
“I need something concrete, Liam. Not some positive spin. Not crisis management. I need to know you’re fixing this.”
I stand at my office window on the forty-third floor of our building. “We’re fixing it.”
“Fixing it how?” our investor asks.
“Strategically.”
James grumbles. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting right now.” I turn. “You’ll have a formal statement by tomorrow morning. Our fundamentals haven’t changed. Our portfolio is sound. Our diligence process is sound. Harrison’s violations happened after our investment.”
“Then why do I keep reading headlines that say otherwise?”
Because Addison Archer wrote a story that went viral. Because the internet doesn’t care about timeline nuance. Because social media decided we’re guilty by association.
I don’t say any of that.
“Bad news spreads faster than truth, James. We’re working on it.”
James exhales. “Work faster.”
He hangs up.
I pull up the latest damage report Nolan compiled an hour ago. The numbers are worse. Three more portfolio companies issued defensive statements. Another analyst downgraded our outlook. Our combined net worth dropped another fifty million.
Two hundred fifty million gone.
All because of one article.
I close the report. Check the time. The brief acquisition offer was couriered to Addison Archer three hours ago. By now, she’s read it. By now, she’s calling her lawyer, running scenarios, calculating leverage.
She has none.
But she’ll try anyway.
My office door opens. Nolan walks in, looking polished like he always does. My other brother, Axel, follows him in with his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up.
Axel sits in the chair on the opposite side. “Crescent’s board requested an emergency meeting.” He props one ankle on his knee. “They want to question our involvement.”
Nolan takes the other chair. “I’ve got four more investor calls scheduled between now and six.”
I sit. “And?”
“They all want the same update. They want to know that we’re handling it.” Nolan delivers bad news the way he does everything. Carefully. “Except we’re not. We’re hemorrhaging credibility by the hour.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Where are we on the formal proposal to Archer Media? We told her we would have the final proposal to her within twenty-four hours.”
Nolan pulls up a document. “I have the basic acquisition structure drafted. We buy Archer Media Group outright, stabilize operations, and retain her staff. But we need to finalize her role and the contract terms.”
I shut my laptop with a decisive snap. “Her role is to fix this mess.”
“I understand that part.” He scrolls. “But we need to be clear about what we’re actually acquiring. It’s not just her company.”
Axel’s smirks. “It’s her.”
“Her credibility,” I correct. “The market believes her. That’s what we need.”
Nolan looks up. “It’s more than that. I did a full background check on her this morning.
” He taps the screen. “Addison Archer wasn’t just any crisis PR consultant.
She was the best. Four years at Apex Strategic Communications.
She managed scandals for Fortune 500 companies, politicians, and celebrities.
She was Apex’s top crisis strategist by her second year. ”
I move forward in my chair. “What kind of scandals?”
“Everything.” Nolan’s voice stays factual.
“Corporate fraud, executive misconduct, product liability disasters. She had a reputation for being ruthless and effective. If you hired her, the story got contained. She knew how to control narratives, manage media cycles, and rebuild reputations from the ground up.”
Axel whistles low. “So, she already knows exactly what we need.”
“Better than anyone,” Nolan confirms. He taps his screen again. “She left Apex two years ago. She walked away from a senior partner track and a six-figure salary.”
I watch him. “Why?”
Nolan places the tablet aside. “They wanted her to bury a story about a pharmaceutical company covering up trial data. Data that showed their drug caused strokes. She refused.” He pauses.
“She said she wouldn’t protect people who were actively hurting others anymore.
So, she quit and started Archer Media Group.
Went into investigative journalism instead. ”
She left on principle. Drew a line. Chose ethics over money.
“So she knows how to manage a crisis,” I say. “And she chose to cause them instead.”
Nolan speaks from his seat. “She chose to expose corruption. There’s a difference.”
“Not from where I’m sitting.” I keep my tone flat. “She has crisis management expertise and media credibility. That’s what we need.”
Axel laughs. “You’re hiring her to do the job she quit. That’s gonna be interesting.”
“I’m hiring the woman who knows how scandals work from both sides.
” I move to my desk. “She understands crisis mechanics. She knows what investors need to hear, what the media will believe, and how to rebuild trust.” I sit.
“And unlike every PR firm we could hire, people actually believe what she says.”
Nolan holds my gaze. “Because she built her entire company on telling the truth.”
“Which makes her valuable.” I meet his eyes. “If Addison Archer says Palmer Capital is clean, the market believes her.”
Axel shifts in his seat. “She’s not gonna lie for us.”
“I’m not asking her to lie.”
“Right.” He tilts his head. “Just control how the truth gets told. Totally different.”
I ignore him. “We didn’t know about Harrison’s violations. That’s true. Our diligence was thorough. Also true.” I meet Axel’s eyes. “She can build a narrative around those facts that rebuilds our credibility without compromising hers.”
“If she agrees to do it,” Nolan points out.
“She will. The alternative is watching her company collapse.”
Nolan picks up his tablet. “Harrison Luxe filed a defamation suit this morning. Fifty million in damages. It’s designed to drain her resources, not win. Her cash reserves won’t cover the legal fees.”
I watch him. “How long does she have?”
“A few months if she’s lucky.” He glances up. “Maybe less if advertisers keep pulling funding. Once she’s broke, Harrison will offer a settlement. They’ll force her to retract the article, apologize, and agree to never cover them again.”
“And if we acquire her company before that happens?”
“Then she has resources to fight. The lawsuit might disappear.” Nolan pauses. “We could help that lawsuit disappear. But either way, she’s trapped. She can’t win without us.”
That’s exactly the position I need her in.
Nolan doesn’t look happy. But he doesn’t argue. He opens a new screen. “We told her we’d have the full details over by tomorrow. What do you want in the contract?”
“Full acquisition of Archer Media Group. She continues to be the face of her editorial operations. Her media company can continue investigative journalism, exposés, and the work that gives her credibility. She needs to spend a minimum of three years working for us.”
Nolan looks up. “So publicly, we’re supporting independent journalism. Privately, she’s bound to us.” Then my brother asks, “And at the end of three years?”
“If she meets all the metrics we put in place, she can have her company back.”
Nolan’s pen pauses. “That’s generous.”
“It’s strategic. She needs to believe there’s an exit,” I explain. “Otherwise, she’ll fight us the entire time.”
Nolan nods.
“And while she is working with us, her company maintains its reputation. Her company will keep doing the work that makes people trust her. But when Palmer Capital has a crisis, she handles it. And anything she publishes that touches our interests gets vetted first.”
“That’s not a partnership,” Nolan says. No inflection. “That’s surveillance.”
“That’s sound business practice.” I cross my arms. “What else did you find on her?”
Nolan scrolls through his notes. “She’s independent. She doesn’t collaborate well when she disagrees with the strategy. At Apex, she had a reputation for being brilliant but difficult. She’d push back on senior partners if she thought they were making the wrong call.”
“Did she win those arguments?”
“Usually.” He doesn’t look up. “Because she was right.”
Axel stands. Restless. He moves toward the windows. “Stubborn, principled, smarter than everyone else.” He glances at us over his shoulder. “Can’t wait to meet her.”
Nolan’s eyes flick to him, then return to me. “Which means she won’t bend easily. The contract needs to be airtight, because if there’s any ambiguity, she’ll exploit it.”
“Then make sure there’s no ambiguity.” I don’t break eye contact. “I want her embedded here. In this building. Working directly with us. No remote setup.”
Nolan’s pen stills. “You want her on-site?”
“Daily. She reports to me. Every piece of content that mentions Palmer Capital, or one of the companies we’ve invested in, gets reviewed and approved before it goes live.”
Axel turns from the window. “She’s gonna hate this.”
He sounds pleased about it. He’s always thrived on confrontation.
“I don’t need her to like it.”
“Good.” He crosses his arms. “Because she’s gonna fight you on every single thing. And it should be entertaining as hell.”
Nolan sets the tablet down. “Liam, she walked away from a six-figure salary on principle. You really think a contract is going to control her?”
“Breaking it would bankrupt her and destroy her professional reputation. She’s practical.”
“Or she’s someone who chooses her principles over everything else,” Nolan counters. “You’re underestimating her.”
“I’m calculating risk. She’s facing a lawsuit she can’t afford to fight. Everything’s collapsing.” I stand. “We’re offering her a way to save it. She’ll take the deal.”
Axel’s expression is unreadable. “Or maybe you’re about to find out what happens when you corner someone who doesn’t know how to stay down.” His voice tightens, almost amused.
He heads for the door, but Nolan stays, needing to work out the final details of the contract before we hand it off to our lawyers.
This little problem should be fixed in no time.
All Addison has to do is sign.
She has power I need.
And right now, she’s vulnerable enough to give it to me.