20. Kyle The Confession
Kyle: The Confession
I stare out the window of my office, but the city skyline does nothing to clear my head.
This company—my company—is my life’s work. I built it from nothing. Every late night, every deal, every sacrifice—it’s all led to this. And now, a handful of board members think I’m unfit to run it.
All because I’m trying to find happiness with a woman who happens to be my employee.
They don’t care about my dedication, my results. They only care about the past. About the one time one of my VPs let personal matters bleed into the business. The scandal that nearly cost me my company.
And now, they want to use it as an excuse to rip Starz Management out of my hands.
I clench my jaw, gripping the armrest of my chair.
As if that isn’t enough, Leslie isn’t picking up my calls. I’ve tried, over and over, but she won’t answer.
I run a hand down my face.
I might have just lost everything.
The company. And her. The woman I—
A knock at the door snaps me back.
Daniel doesn’t wait for permission—he just walks in, shutting the door behind him.
I sit up. “What?”
He drops into the chair across from me. “Mia just left my office.”
I raise a brow. “And?”
Daniel studies me for a beat, then smirks. “Man, you look like hell.”
I exhale sharply, dragging a hand down my face. “Not in the mood, Daniel.”
“Yeah, well, neither is Leslie, from what Mia just told me.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “She thinks Amanda is behind all this.”
That gets my attention.
I straighten. “What?”
“She came to tell me what happened when she went to see Amanda.”
My muscles lock up. “Mia went to see Amanda?”
Daniel nods. “Tried to talk to her about Leslie’s situation. Thought maybe she’d help. Instead, Amanda acted shady as hell. Then, as Mia was leaving, guess whose name popped up on Amanda’s phone?”
A slow, cold dread settles in my stomach.
“Reeves.”
Daniel points at me. “Bingo.”
I inhale deeply, clenching my jaw. “That’s it. It has to be her.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Daniel leans back. “Problem is, we can’t just waltz into the conference room and say, ‘Hey guys, we feel like Amanda’s guilty.’ We need something concrete.”
I rub my temples. “The board gave me a day—less than twenty-four hours now—to bring them proof.”
Daniel hums, thoughtful. “If Amanda and Reeves are communicating through her personal phone, we can trace it. A private investigator can connect the dots, starting with her call records.”
I don’t hesitate. “Get someone on it. Now.”
Daniel’s already pulling out his phone. “Let’s go. We’ll meet them in person.”
I grab my jacket, my heart hammering.
I’m not losing everything.
Not without a fight.
***
By the time Daniel and I leave the investigator’s office, the sun is already starting to dip.
The whole day has slipped by, and I’ve barely had a second to think about anything other than saving my company and proving Amanda’s involvement.
And Leslie.
I exhale sharply as we step onto the sidewalk. “We need to talk to her.”
Daniel glances at me. “Yeah. But if we just come out and say it, she might shut down.” He shrugs. “She’s still pissed at you.”
I don’t argue. I know she is. I rake a hand through my hair.
He watches me for a second, then smirks. “That look on your face? The sacrifices we make for love.” He sighs dramatically. “Tragic, really.”
I shoot him a glare. “Shut up.”
Daniel just laughs. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s get some food before you pass out.”
I don’t protest. My body is running on fumes, and if I’m going to get through a conversation with Leslie, I need to be sharp.
We find a quiet restaurant nearby, somewhere low-key. The place has warm lighting, half-full tables, and the hum of conversations filling the space. It’s calmer than the chaos we just left behind.
We order, but I barely touch my food. My mind keeps circling back to the same problem—Amanda, Reeves, the board, Leslie.
Daniel watches me push my food around with a fork. “You know staring at it won’t make it disappear, right?”
I shoot him a look.
He smirks, then pulls out his phone and dials.
“Who are you calling?” I ask.
“Mia.”
I arch a brow. “And what’s the plan?”
Daniel holds up a finger as the call connects.
“Hey,” he says. “I need Grace’s number.”
There’s a pause before Mia responds, her voice muffled.
Daniel sighs. “No, it’s not shady. I just need to talk to her about Leslie.”
Another pause.
Then he smirks. “Thank you.”
I exhale, giving him a look. “You really have a way of getting under people’s skin.”
Daniel shrugs. “It’s a gift.”
His phone buzzes with a new message. He checks it, then hits call.
Grace picks up almost immediately. “Uh . . . hello?”
“Hey, Grace, it’s Daniel, VP from SMG. Got your number from Mia.”
Silence.
Then: “Okay?”
Daniel doesn’t waste time. “Listen, Kyle and I need to talk to Leslie about Amanda. We’re at a restaurant downtown. Can you bring her here?”
Silence.
Daniel says smoothly. “See you soon.”
He hangs up and leans back. “She’ll bring her.”
I nod, a tight knot forming in my chest.
Leslie is coming.
Now I just have to convince her to listen.
***
The words linger between us, stretching the silence so tightly I feel it in my chest.
"It’s too late."
Leslie’s voice was quiet, almost gentle, but it cut through me like a blade. I see it in her eyes—the war waging inside her. The hurt I caused. The fear of letting me back in.
Across the restaurant, Daniel pushes back his chair. “I should get going.” His voice is neutral, but I catch the glance he throws my way. A silent message I can’t quite decipher.
Grace stands too, reaching for her bag. “I’ll head out too.”
Leslie turns to her, frowning. “Grace—”
Grace cuts her off, placing a hand on Leslie’s shoulder before looking straight at me. “Is my friend safe in your hands, Kyle?”
My stomach clenches. It’s a simple question, but the weight behind it is crushing.
I hold her gaze. “Yes.”
Something flickers in her expression, then she nods. “Good.” She turns back to Leslie, squeezing her arm. “Call me, okay?”
Leslie nods stiffly. Grace exchanges another unreadable look with Daniel before they both walk out, leaving just the two of us.
Alone.
Leslie exhales, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know why they think this is a good idea.”
“Maybe because it is,” I say before I can stop myself.
She tenses but doesn’t walk away. That has to count for something.
I take a breath, keeping my tone light. “Can we go for a walk?”
She hesitates, arms crossing. “Why?”
“I just think some fresh air might help.” I pause, then add, “And there’s an ice cream spot around the corner.”
Her brows lift slightly. “Ice cream?”
I nod. “Figured you might need something sweet after . . . all this.”
A ghost of a smile flickers across her lips before she catches herself. “Bribery won’t work on me.”
I smirk. “Who said it was a bribe?”
She shakes her head, grabbing her purse. “Let’s walk then.”
***
The city hums around us as we stroll down the sidewalk, ice cream in hand. The tension between us is still there, but the sharp edges feel slightly dulled.
Leslie dips her spoon into her cup, staring ahead. “So . . . talk.”
I grip mine tighter, exhaling. “I never wanted to let you go.”
Her steps falter, just slightly.
I push forward before she can interrupt. “But I was scared, Leslie. The board was turning against me. They were already whispering that I was incompetent, that I was making reckless decisions.”
She says nothing, but I see the way her fingers tighten around her spoon.
I swallow hard. “I was too afraid of losing everything, so I pushed you away. And it was the worst decision I ever made.”
A pause.
Then, quietly, “You don’t get to just say that and expect everything to be okay.”
I nod. “I know.”
Another beat of silence.
Then she sighs, shaking her head. “I hate that I understand.”
It’s not an admission of forgiveness, but it’s something.
The rest of the walk is quiet, both of us lost in thought.
When we turn around back to where my car is, I hesitate. “Can I drive you home?”
She looks at me, searching. Then, finally, she nods. “Okay.”
***
The drive is quiet, the air thick with words left unsaid.
When we reach her place, I park but don’t move. Neither does she.
Then she turns to me, hesitant. “Do you . . . want to come in?”
The tension crackles like electricity.
“Yes.”
She nods, and we both step out of the car.
Inside, she kicks off her shoes, turning back to me. “It’s not as big as your place, but—”
“It’s cozy,” I finish, glancing around. “It suits you.”
She smiles, small but real.
We sit on the couch, a movie playing in the background. The minutes stretch, and before long, her head starts to droop.
I shift, brushing her hair back. “You should sleep.”
She mumbles something incoherent, curling further into the cushions.
I hesitate, then whisper, “Want me to carry you?”
A soft nod.
I lift her easily, her body warm against mine as I take her to her room. Gently, I lay her down, pulling the covers over her.
Then, before I can stop myself, I brush a kiss against her forehead. “Goodnight, Leslie.”
I turn to leave, but she grabs my wrist.
“Stay,” she whispers.
I freeze.
She meets my eyes, tired but earnest. “Can you . . . stay?”
Something inside me cracks.
I nod.
I remove my jacket, then my shirt, then my pants, leaving just my boxers before slipping into bed beside her.
She instantly moves closer, pressing her body against mine.
I wrap my arms around her, exhaling.
“I missed you,” she murmurs.
My throat tightens. “I tried not to, but I couldn't.”
She shifts, tilting her head up. Our noses brush, breaths mingling.
Her fingers curl against my chest. “Kyle . . .”
I groan, tightening my grip. “Leslie—”
But then she kisses me.
Slow. Deliberate.
Not rushed, not desperate.
Just . . . real.
I sink into it, letting myself feel every inch of her.
When we break apart, she whispers, “Make love to me.”
I don’t hesitate.
I strip her slowly, worshipping her with my hands and mouth. Every touch is deliberate, every kiss a silent apology.
She arches beneath me, her body soft and warm and perfect.
When I slide into her, we both exhale.
It’s not rough. It’s not fast. It’s slow. Intentional.
Like we’re trying to memorize each other all over again.
She grips my shoulders, whispering my name like a prayer.
I bury my face in her neck, murmuring, “I love you.”
Her body tightens around mine.
As the waves of pleasure fade, I hold her close, our bodies still tangled, skin damp, and hearts racing in sync.
Neither of us moves, as if breaking apart would shatter the fragile peace we’ve found in each other.
Leslie’s fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, her breath warm against my shoulder.
Minutes pass in silence, nothing but the sound of our slowing breaths filling the space between us.
The weight of exhaustion settles over us, and slowly, wrapped in each other, we drift into sleep.
***
The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room.
I wake before her, my body still tangled with hers, her warmth seeping into my skin. For the first time in weeks, I don’t feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me.
I shift slightly, careful not to wake her. Her hair is tousled, her lips slightly parted, her breath slow and even. Peaceful. The kind of peace I almost lost.
My chest tightens. I reach out, brushing my fingers lightly over her knuckles. I don’t deserve this moment, but I want it. I want her.
Carefully, I slip out of bed and settle into the chair across the room, just watching her. Letting myself take her in.
Minutes later, she stirs. Her hand reaches out—searching. But it lands on empty sheets.
She jolts up, her breath hitching.
Then she sees me sitting on the chair across from the bed, watching her.
She exhales, clutching her chest. “Jesus, Kyle.”
I stand, moving toward her. “Sorry.”
She shakes her head. “I thought you left. Again.”
I slide back into bed, pulling her into me. “Not this time.”
She sags against my chest, exhaling.
A beat of silence. Then she whispers, “It’s Amanda.”
I stiffen. Then, slowly, I nod. “I’m on it.”