26. Twenty-Six
Twenty-Six
Luke
The boardroom feels different today. Maybe it’s the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, or maybe it’s the knowledge that everything is about to change. I sit beside my father at the head of the massive oak table, watching Marcus Davidson’s face as the board members file in.
He still thinks he has this in the bag. Still wearing that smug smile that makes me want to punch him.
“Shall we begin?” Dad’s voice carries the quiet authority that’s led Sterling Motors for three decades. “We have several items on the agenda, but I believe we should start with the vote regarding leadership structure that has been proposed.”
Marcus leans forward, adjusting his Italian silk tie. “Excellent suggestion, Jim. Given recent... performance issues, I think it’s time for some fresh perspective at the helm.”
I catch Robert Chen’s eye across the table. He gives me the slightest nod.
“Before we vote,” William Hartley speaks up, “I’d like to address some concerns that have recently come to light.”
Marcus waves a dismissive hand. “We can discuss minor operational issues after—“
“These aren’t minor issues, Marcus.” Chen’s voice could freeze hell. “Would you like to explain the shell companies? Or shall we discuss the manufactured accidents at our plants?”
The change in Marcus’s expression is subtle, but I catch it—a tightening around the eyes, a slight clench of his jaw.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dad slides folders to each board member. “These documents suggest otherwise. Detailed records of systematic attempts to undermine Sterling Motors’ stability. Offshore accounts. Blackmail attempts against board members. ”
“This is ridiculous.” Marcus stands, but I notice his hands trembling slightly. “These are clearly fabricated—“
“They’re authenticated,” William cuts in. “By three separate accounting firms.”
“And federal authorities,” I add, enjoying the way Marcus’s face pales.
“Now,” Dad continues calmly, “shall we proceed with the vote?”
The next few minutes are almost anticlimactic. One by one, each board member votes to maintain current leadership. Even Marcus’s most reliable allies turn against him, their expressions cold.
“This is impossible,” Marcus snarls when the last vote is cast. “You can’t—“
“The vote is unanimous,” Dad announces. “Sterling Motors’ leadership structure remains unchanged.”
Marcus slams his hands on the table. “Fine. Then I call in the loan. Full payment due immediately, as per our agreement.”
I’ve been waiting for this moment. Reaching into my briefcase, I withdraw a certified cashier’s check and slide it across the table .
“Payment in full,” I say quietly. “Including all interest and fees.”
He snatches up the check, eyes widening at the amount. “How—“
“Does it matter?” I stand, unable to resist twisting the knife. “The loan is satisfied. Your attempt at a hostile takeover has failed. And your resignation from the board will be accepted, effective immediately.”
“You can’t force me to resign.”
Chen clears his throat. “Actually, Marcus, you might want to save your energy for more pressing matters.”
As if on cue, the boardroom doors open. Two men in dark suits enter, followed by several uniformed officers.
Marcus’s face goes from red to white in an instant. “What is this?”
“Mr. Davidson,” one of the suits steps forward, “I’m Agent Phillips with the FBI’s Financial Crimes Division. We’d like to ask you some questions about certain irregularities in your international banking activities.”
I catch Dad’s eye as Marcus starts sputtering legal threats. There’s a lifetime of relief in his slight smile.
“Gentlemen,” Dad addresses the board, “I suggest we adjourn for now. I believe Mr. Davidson has a rather important meeting to attend.”
As the agents lead Marcus toward the door, he turns back with pure hatred in his eyes. “This isn’t over.”
“Actually,” I tell him, “it is.”
The doors close behind them, leaving blessed silence in their wake. One by one, the board members stand and approach Dad, offering handshakes and quiet words of support.
I sink back into my chair, finally letting myself breathe. It’s over. We won.
Matthew’s is one of Crystal’s favorite restaurants—all-white tablecloths and perfectly placed silverware. I glance around the room as I step inside, the low hum of quiet conversation and clinking silverware fading into the background. I’m not here for the food or the ambiance. I’m here to put an end to the charade that’s taken over my life.
Crystal is already seated at a private table near the window, a flute of champagne in her hand. She looks flawless, as always—her dark hair is sleek and straight, not a single strand out of place. Her pink designer dress is tailored to perfection. But as I approach, I notice the faint tension in her shoulders, the way her perfectly painted nails tap against the stem of her glass.
“Luke,” she says with a bright smile, standing to greet me. She leans in to air kiss my cheek, her perfume cloying and too sweet. “Running late again, I see.”
“Got held up,” I say simply, pulling out the chair across from her.
She sits gracefully, giving me a searching look. “I uh… trust everything went okay at the board meeting.”
Nodding, I keep my face neutral.
She looks briefly around, then smiles sweetly. “Daddy and Jim must be running behind, too, but in the meantime, let’s toast.” She lifts her glass. “To our combined future.”
I don’t pick up my glass .
Her smile wavers, just for a second, before she sets her flute down with a soft clink. “What’s wrong? This was supposed to be a family celebration.”
“Crystal,” I say, leaning forward, my voice low. “Our fathers aren’t coming.”
Her smile completely disappears, but I can see a flicker of something in her eyes. She suspects the board meeting didn’t go well, but she probably thinks Marcus still has us over a barrel.
“We need to talk,” I say quietly.
Something in my tone makes her straighten. “What’s going on?”
“The engagement is over, Crystal.” No point dragging this out.
Her lips part slightly, her expression a perfect mix of shock and hurt. “Over?” she says, her voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. “Luke, what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that we’ve been lying to ourselves and everyone else for months,” I say. “This was never about love or a future together. It was about your father’s plans for Sterling Motors. ”
Her eyes narrow, and for the first time, I see a crack in her polished facade. “I don’t know what you think you know—“
“I know everything, Crystal,” I interrupt, my voice firm. “I know what Marcus has been planning. The hostile takeover. The way he’s been using you to keep me in line. The leverage he’s been holding over us.”
She flinches, just barely, but enough to confirm that she suspected at least some of what Marcus had planned.
“Don’t try to deny it,” I say, leaning closer. “Your father didn’t even bother hiding it. And you went along with it.”
Her eyes flash, and for a moment, I think she might lash out. But then she takes a slow breath, composing her face into an expressionless mask as she glances quickly around the restaurant to make sure we’re not being overheard.
“So that’s it?” she says, her voice cold. “You’re blaming me for everything my father’s done?”
“I’m not blaming you,” I say evenly. “I’m saying this ends now. I’m not going to keep pretending, and I’m not going to let your father manipulate my family anymore.”
Crystal’s laugh is sharp and bitter. “Pretending? You think I’ve been pretending this whole time?”
“You tell me,” I say, holding her gaze.
For a moment, her mask slips, and I see something raw and unguarded in her expression. But just as quickly, it’s gone, replaced by a steely glare.
“We’ll see what Daddy has to say about this.”
“Your father was just arrested by federal agents. His effort to take over Sterling Motors didn’t only fail—it brought to light his other illegal activities.
She blinks, then laughs. “Very funny, Luke. Now, where is he really?”
“Your father engaged in illegal international banking activities, orchestrated accidents at our plants, and attempted to blackmail board members.” I keep my voice low, mindful of nearby tables. “It’s over, Crystal. All of it.”
The color drains from her face. “You’re lying.”
“Turn on any financial news channel. It should be breaking news by now.”
She fumbles for her phone, perfectly manicured nails shaking as she pulls up headlines. I watch the realization hit her—first shock, then anger, finally settling into something calculated .
“Luke, darling, “ Her voice goes soft, pleading. “I had no idea what Daddy was doing. You know that, right? We can still—“
“Stop.” I lean back, suddenly tired. “We both know this was never real.”
“How can you say that? After everything we’ve—“
“Name my favorite color.”
She falters. “What?”
“It’s a simple question. What’s my favorite food? My favorite song? When’s the last time we had a real conversation about anything that actually mattered?”
Her lips thin. “We’ve been busy.”
“We’ve been playing parts. You wanted the rockstar fiancé, and I wanted to help my father’s company. Let’s not act like it was ever more than that.”
Something shifts in her eyes—the vulnerability replaced by cold anger.
“You think you’re so righteous,” she says quietly. “So noble for walking away. But what about me, Luke? Do you have any idea what this will do to me? To my reputation? The press will eat this up—“
“Crystal,” I say, my voice softening despite myself. “You’re going to be fine. You’ve always landed on your feet, and you always will. But this—“ I gesture between us—”wasn’t real. And you know it.”
Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t argue.
“Maybe,” I continue, “in your own way, you’re relieved too. Because neither of us deserves to be trapped in something like this.”
She looks at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. And I see again that flash of understanding.
“You’re a fool, Luke,” she says finally, her voice soft but sharp. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe we were both acting.”
I lean back in my chair, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “You’ll be okay, Crystal. I know you will.”
She doesn’t respond; she just lifts her glass and takes a long sip.
I stand, pulling out my wallet and tossing a few bills on the table to cover the champagne. “Take care of yourself,” I say, my voice low.
As I turn to leave, she calls after me.
“Luke.”
I pause, glancing back.
Her expression is unreadable, her voice almost wistful. “The press will spin this however they want. But just remember—I won’t be the only one they crucify. No one ever gets out of this business clean. Especially once they figure out who you’re really with.”
I freeze. “What do you mean by that?”
Her smile is astute. “Please. I’ve seen how you look at that little chef of yours. Does she know what she’s getting into? The cameras, the speculation, the endless scrutiny?”
“Leave her out of this.”
“Face it, Luke. The media has been given a scandal they’ll feast on for months. I hope she’s ready for it.”
“Don’t worry about Lila.” I nod once, then walk out of the restaurant, leaving Crystal and everything she represents behind.
All I can think about is Lila. Sweet, private Lila who deserves better than having her life turned into tabloid fodder. I need to get to the duplex and warn her.
My mind’s eye can picture her already. She’s probably stress baking right now—her way of keeping busy while waiting for news. I can picture her in her kitchen, dusted with flour, her hair pulled up in that messy bun that makes me want to kiss her neck. The scent of something amazing filling her apartment. It’s what she does when she’s worried or excited or just needs to think.
Right now, she’s probably pulled out her stand mixer, whipping up a batch of chocolate chip cookies because she knows they’re my favorite. The thought makes me smile despite everything. Soon, I’ll tell her we won, that it’s all over, and I’ll get to watch her face light up with that beautiful smile of hers—before I warn her about the coming media storm.
Because Crystal was right about one thing—the paparazzi will have a field day with this. But if they think they can scare Lila away, they don’t know her like I do.
Still, as I drive away from the restaurant, I can’t help but wonder if I’m being selfish by pulling her into this circus.
Then again, when has Lila ever let anyone else decide what she can handle?