Chapter 3 - The Boardroom UltimatumCameron was standing by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, staring out at the Manhattan skyline under a slate-gray sky. He had changed into a fresh charcoal-gray suit, his dark hair neatly combed, looking once again like the unassailable billionaire titan of industry. But the moment the door clicked shut behind me, his shoulders dropped slightly.
He turned around. His gray eyes searched my face.
"You're late," he said, though there was no heat in his voice.
"Your car got caught in bridge traffic," I replied steadily, keeping a professional distance, though my heart was hammering against my ribs. "And for the record, Sarah is downstairs handing out black coffee like rations in a war zone. The entire building is in full panic mode because Page Six broke the story about Victoria."
Cameron walked slowly toward his desk, his gaze never leaving mine. "Let them panic. Victoria’s father called twenty minutes ago, threatening to pull their shipping contracts if I don't issue a joint statement claiming it was a 'mutual parting of ways due to conflicting schedules.'"
"And what did you tell him?"
A cold, merciless smile touched the corners of Cameron’s mouth. "I told him that if he mentions my name in the press again, I'll foreclose on his three primary commercial towers in Chicago before lunch."
I couldn't help the small gasp that escaped my lips. "Cameron, you can't just wage corporate warfare because your ex-fiancée humiliated you!"
"Watch me," he said softly, closing the distance between us until he was standing just inches away. The scent of his cedarwood cologne wrapped around me, instantly reminding me of how it felt to have him sitting on my couch, stripped of his armor. "I am done playing by their rules, Emma. For five years, I let that family dictate my life, my public image, and my choices. Last night, sitting in your apartment wearing kitten pajamas, was the first time I felt human in a decade."
"Cameron, people are going to start talking," I whispered, stepping back as a knock echoed sharply against the heavy oak office door.
Cameron cursed under his breath. "Enter."
The door swung open, and Arthur Sterling—senior partner of the board and one of Cameron’s most ruthless detractors—marched into the room, flanked by two corporate lawyers. His face was thunderous.
"Cameron, this is a disaster," Sterling barked without even glancing at me. "The stock is down four points in early trading. Investors are terrified that the merger with the Vance Group is dead in the water. We need a press conference immediately, and you need to announce a reconciliation or a clear corporate succession plan."
Cameron didn't flinch. He walked slowly back to his executive leather chair, sat down, and laced his fingers together on the desk. He looked at Sterling the way a cat looks at a trapped mouse.
"The merger with the Vance Group is terminated, Arthur," Cameron said calmly.
Sterling’s face turned an alarming shade of purple. "Terminated?! Are you out of your mind? That deal represents four billion dollars in logistics infrastructure!"
"I am entirely in my mind," Cameron replied, his voice dropping into that terrifying, icy register that always silenced the boardroom. "And effective immediately, we are shifting our quarterly acquisitions toward independent tech logistics—spearheaded by the internal strategy data compiled by my executive assistant."
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Sterling turned his gaze toward me for the first time, his eyes narrowing with bitter contempt. "Your assistant? You're risking a four-billion-dollar merger based on the whims of a junior desk worker who dresses like a college student?"
Before Cameron could explode, I stepped forward, my spine stiffening with a sudden, furious wave of professional pride.
