Chapter Thirty-Four #2
"Thank you," I manage to Elena as she passes. She nods once, professional to the end.
When the door clicks shut behind Marcus, leaving the three of us, I look at my brother. “Why?” The word scrapes across a million questions. "After the lies, the bet, putting the company at risk, why would you vote for me to stay?"
My brother pushes back from the table and moves to the sideboard where we keep our rarest bourbon. He picks up a bottle of our single-barrel and stares at the rich amber liquid, turning it so the light makes it glow. Then he sets it back down.
"You want the honest answer?"
"Please."
He turns. "Because of what you just said out there.
" He gestures toward the boardroom. "The old Thorne would have deflected, made excuses, or tried to charm his way through that question.
But you didn't. You admitted the pattern.
You owned the Williams mistake. And you pointed to actual evidence that you're trying to change. "
Lillianna nods. "The environmental response with the FBI. We really did handle that as a team."
“And she told me,” he points to Lillianna, “what Dad did.
Why I'm head of Blackstone and not you. That matters too.
I'd hated so much about our father, but I thought he at least had good business sense, that he could see past all his faults and do what was best for our family's legacy.
Turns out all he ever cared about was himself. "
"True, but we are where we're supposed to be. It took me too long to see, and I made you pay while I was blind to it. I'm sorry."
Sebastian's throat works. He crosses the room and extends his hand.
I stare at it for a heartbeat before standing and gripping it. His grip is strong. Certain. Like he's pulling me back from the edge.
"You weren't the only one who was blind," he says. "I spent years resenting you for things that weren't your fault. We both lost each other to his manipulations."
"I don't deserve this." I sink back into my chair, and Sebastian does the same.
"You do." Lillianna counters, and there's a sheen across her eyes that she'll deny if I mention it.
Sebastian leans forward, elbows on the table. "Can I ask you something?"
He’s lost the CEO formality, and the change makes me tense. This isn't brother-to-brother casual. This is something he's been holding back.
But I nod. “Go ahead.”
"You knew what Dad did, why he'd made me master distiller and head of Blackstone. Why didn't you tell me?"
I could deflect. Make a joke. But I'm done with that.
"Because the truth made me the victim." The admission sits heavy on my tongue. "And I'd rather be the villain than admit our father broke me. That he saw my one weakness and used it to cut me off at the knees." I meet his gaze. "Being angry was easier than being pitiful."
Sebastian doesn't look away. "You're not pitiful, Thorne. You never were."
"Felt like it at seventeen." I exhale slowly.
Lillianna's pen taps against her notepad once, twice. “Oh my God, will you two stop. You’re going to make me cry. I’m not wearing waterproof mascara.”
I snort. “I’m sure Bastian has some you can use.”
He chuckles. “I was eight the last time I let her use me as her makeup model.”
“It’s too bad you have fabulous lashes and cheekbones.” She leans forward, patting his short beard. “But this would get in the way.”
“Sorry, I’m keeping it. Rosalia loves it.”
“Fine,” she huffs, then she points at me. "Since you're still working here, Thorne-in-my-side, let's update you on what Ivy's done with the EPA mess."
Her name hits me like a shot of bourbon, burning and spreading through my ribs, settling low in my gut. I can smell her shampoo, that coconut scent that clung to my pillows. Feel the ghost of her fingers tracing my jaw at 2 a.m. when she thought I was sleeping.
We’d talk. Careful conversations where neither of us says too much. Where I can hear her smile even when she's trying to sound professional. It's not enough. But it's something.
"Okay, so the remediation proposal she drafted..." My brother pulls sheets of paper from a folder. "EPA's initial feedback came back yesterday. They're impressed. She structured it so we're leading the cleanup voluntarily, which takes the teeth out of any enforcement action."
"That's brilliant," Lillianna says.
It is. Of course it is. Ivy's always three steps ahead, seeing angles no one else catches.
"She also negotiated a phased timeline," Sebastian continues. "Eighteen months instead of the twelve the EPA wanted. Saves us from having to rush and potentially cut corners."
"How much is this going to cost?" I ask. What I really want to know is whether she asked about me. If she's mentioned me at all. Did she forget about me as soon as we hung up?
"Twelve to fifteen million, depending on complications. But Ivy found grant programs for sustainable business practices. Could offset it by thirty percent."
Lillianna tilts her head, studying me and seeing all I'm hiding. "She's found a building for her practice."
“I know. She told me.”
“You two are talking?” she asks.
“A little.” Less than I want, but more than I expected when she walked out.
I want nothing more than to show up at that building with champagne and watch her eyes light up the way they did when she beat me to the pool.
I want to pin her against the wall of her new office and kiss her until she remembers why she let me in her bed in the first place.
I want to celebrate the woman who's brilliant enough to outmaneuver the EPA and stubborn enough to walk away from me.
But what I want doesn’t matter. It’s what she needs. And she needs time. So, time I’ll give her.
Lillianna smiles. “Good. That's great.”
Sebastian leans back in his chair. "Was it casual between you two?"
"It started that way. Hell, it was supposed to be two strangers on a train."
My brother's brows pull together. "Wait. What?"
I wave a hand. "Long story. But, to answer your question. She is so much more than casual."
"And?" he prompts.
"And she asked for space." I roll my shoulders, tension coiling up my spine. "So I'm giving it to her. I'm not going to chase her, manipulate her, or force her hand. She knows where I am."
"So it's over?" he asks.
"No, it will never be over. But I'm giving her the space she requested, and when she’s ready, I'll be here to show her that I'm the man for her."
My sister leans forward, elbows on the table. "And if she's not ready?"
"Then I wait."
"How long?" Sebastian asks.
I think about her in my library at 2 a.m., bourbon in hand, demolishing my arguments about the EPA. The way she beat me to the pool every morning just to prove she could. How she's the only person who's ever made me want to be better instead of just different.
"As long as it takes."
Lillianna studies me, then gives a small nod, like she's finally seeing something she'd been waiting for. "You really have changed."
"I'm trying," I admit.
Sebastian snorts. "Never thought I'd see the day where you'd wait for anything."
"Yeah, well." I manage half a smile. "Turns out there are some things worth waiting for."
"Sap," Lillianna mutters, but she's smiling.
"Shut up, Lilly. It'll happen to you one day."
"Please. Out of the three of us, you two are the romantics. I'm perfectly happy staying unattached and entertained."
Sebastian clears his throat. "Well, if we're done being emotional, we should review the rest of the timeline. Make sure we’re on the same page.”
"Right." I grab the folder. "Let's see what else Ivy came up with."
As Sebastian walks us through the proposal, I catch myself reading between the lines of every notation, every comment in the margins. Looking for her.
And there, on page seven, a small note in her handwriting: T would approve of this approach. It's aggressive but calculated.
I trace the loops of her handwriting with one finger.
She's still thinking about me. Still sees me clearly—the good and the bad. And when she's ready, I'll be right here.