Chapter 10 Dom
DOM
“I mean, if you just use the equity income from the Elabrium shares to diversify your portfolio, wouldn’t—?”
A haughty laugh. “Not in this market.”
No matter how hard I rapped my pen against the conference table, it didn’t drown out the incessant stock-jockey yammering that preceded each of these meetings.
But it made them uneasy — I could see it in the tensing of their shoulders, the way they avoided looking at the dykey elephant in the room.
And anything I could do to fuck with these assholes was a win in my book.
Half of them had no idea what they were talking about anyway, but they sure liked to pretend that they did. In the end, the votes always went the same way, though.
Isaac was these half-wits’ infallible king. They’d rather fall in line for a pat on the head than disturb the peace. They’d let him waste the promise of what Zeus could be, and he would make them feel like the smartest men on Earth for it.
Thankfully, I was only expected to sit in on this circus performance a couple of times a year.
Then, the room fell into a heavy silence. The banging of my pen transformed reluctantly to a drumroll. In walked the king of the clowns himself: Isaac Dumont, CEO of Zeus Enterprises. My father.
But as he made his way to his throne at the head of the table, I noticed his favorite court jester was missing. “Where’s Gabriel?”
I hated even saying his name — the smarmy barnacle that had hitched himself to my father’s ship over the past decade. Isaac used to raise me like the son he never had — and then he found Gabe.
“Good morning, Madeline.” He glanced over to make sure his barb had hit before taking a seat, shifting his eyes over the rest of the table. “And good morning to the rest of you.”
I bristled in my seat as the rest of the table offered gleeful salutations, a handful of them snickering in my direction. He knew that I hated my first name — that’s why he insisted on using it at every possible turn.
Once enough time had passed for my shame to set in, Isaac turned to Bernard at his right. The seat on his left remained decidedly empty. “Roll call?”
Bernard rattled through the list of names — across the room, executives in far-too-expensive suits marked their attendance with a simple “present.” It took everything in me to not scrunch up my nose with disgust.
Long ago, each of these socialites and glorified “philanthropists” had really believed in Zeus’ mission. Or at least their parents had.
Now they were happy to cash an easy check. All the true believers had been replaced by spoiled trust-fund babies looking to buddy up with the industry's most disgusting millionaires.
Only a handful of the stockholders bothered to attend in person. A smaller margin called in to the meetings from wherever they were vacationing that week or sent their votes in by mail. Most didn’t vote at all, delegating that responsibility to the company — to Isaac.
It was a wonder I was able to hold onto my spot in the company at all. Isaac would have loved to get rid of me years ago, but my mother’s lawyers made that damn-near impossible.
He’d need a supermajority on a vote of no confidence to end my contract, but the floating votes combined with the share I’d inherited meant he fell just shy of what he needed.
A shame, really. I wanted as little to do with this corrupted cesspool of a company as possible — and even less to do with my father. But as fate had it, I still had work to do here.
As Bernard reached the end of the list, he tried to breeze past Gabriel’s name, hardly leaving a second of silence after it before bristling into last meeting’s notes.
I snagged that second, not sure when I would have the opportunity to ask again. “Where’s Gabriel? It’s unlike him to miss such an important meeting.”
Isaac grumbled in his seat. I waited for him to spout off some bullshit excuse — that being the CEO of Spyre made Gabriel a very busy man.
That he was attending to other business that would benefit the partnership between our two companies.
That he was preparing for his coronation as Daddy Isaac’s heir, saving the company from the fate of dealing with me.
But in a moment of surprising earnestness, Isaac turned to me with a somber smile. “I appreciate your concern for Gabriel, Madeline. I… didn’t want to bring this up in the interest of time, but since you asked, Gabriel was attacked last night.”
A gasp went up through the boardroom, villagers reacting to an assassination attempt on the crown-prince.
I could hardly contain my own shock, nor the low thrum of fear pulsing through my veins.
My dickish, pseudo-stepbrother shows up bloodied the same night Leo and Spence go rogue on a guy at a bar?
It’s just a weird coincidence.
Isaac nodded solemnly, riding the wave of sympathy as he painted a martyr. “Luckily, he’s doing okay. He wanted to be here with us today — you all know that this company is his lifeblood — but I insisted he stay home and recover. Surely you understand.”
Murmurs of agreement echoed around the table.
Several shareholders grabbed their phones under their tables, texting assistants to send flowers in a useless bid to curry favor.
While his words were directed to everyone, Isaac kept those gray, steely eyes locked on me, lest I forget who was in charge here.
Greg, a particularly devout disciple of Issac’s, shook his head. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Do they know what motivated the attack? Have they apprehended any suspects?”
Isaac shook his head. “No. It’s possible it was random — surrounding towns like Valemont are growing more dangerous by the day. Gabriel has a lot worth envying — jealousy may have made him a target. But I’m determined to find out — to leverage Zeus’ network to bring protection to those blindspots.”
Isaac exploited the opportunity seamlessly into his sales pitch from there — increased spending, filling gaps in the market, developments that would increase shareholder dividends.
It was impressive, really, how quickly he could shapeshift from doting father to snakeoil salesman — from human to utterly monstrous.
I knew him too well, though — I could see every betrayal he planned from a mile away. And when it came to Gabe, Isaac had big plans — he wouldn’t have kept him around after buying out Spyre if not.
Clearly I’m not the only one who can’t stand the guy.
As they blathered on about shares and projections and reports I’d already read a dozen times over, I couldn’t help my mind from drifting to the idea of Gabe’s bloodied face.
It would be a lie to say I hadn’t fantasized about hurting him, giving him a taste of what he deserved for willingly participating in Isaac’s twisted games.
But whoever had beat me to him must have given him a hell of a pummeling if he couldn’t even show his face.
My lungs tightened as I thought about the only two people I knew who could dole out a beating like that — who had done the same thing the very same night.
The stray they’d brought home complicated everything, though. There was no way.
Gabriel didn’t do girlfriends — the rotating cast of dates he brought to company dinners was proof enough of that. And Spencer and Leo swore up and down that they’d had to rescue their tagalong from her boyfriend.
Simple. Open-and-shut. Two assholes getting what they deserved on the same night wasn’t a connection — it was an inevitability.
Still, if there was no connection, then why couldn’t I stop thinking about it? Why couldn’t I stop excavating memories better left buried?
I’d stopped looking at her photos years ago. The woman holed up in my house looked nothing like the angry teen with box-dyed hair that glared back at me through the P.I.’s lens.
But she did look like an earlier memory — a more tender one.
I drummed my pen against the edge of the table, fighting and failing to push away what my body already knew.
Despite the odds, despite the time, despite my every meticulous precaution — it just might be her.