I pocketed my phone, my anger easing with the promise of a guaranteed fight later. Some people went to therapy; Dante and I punched each other. It was faster, more efficient, and doubled as a workout.
I climbed into my waiting town car and instructed the driver to take me back to the office.
Richard thought he was a kingmaker, but I could win without him.
I was Kai Young.
I never lost.
CHAPTER 32
Isabella
I couldn’t do it. Even with my flexible work hours, Kai’s neuroscientist-approved writer’s block busters, and the prospect of facing Gabriel’s smug I knew you were bluffing expression, I couldn’t finish my book in time.
My mother’s birthday was less than a week away, and every time I sat at my new typewriter, I froze. It wasn’t a matter of deleting anymore; the words wouldn’t come, period. I was only a few chapters short, but my brain was too crammed with other concerns—the National Star vultures, my awful meeting with Kai’s mother, the uncertainty of my relationship with Kai and, most of all, his recent date with Clarissa.
I was the one who told him it was okay. I knew it wasn’t real and that the date was purely for PR
purposes, but that didn’t stop me from playing the comparison game when the photos hit the society pages earlier this week. Kai and Clarissa having a romantic dinner at an Italian restaurant. Kai and Clarissa walking down the street, holding hands. They were both elegant and sophisticated—the perfect match.
A better match than you and him, an insidious voice whispered.
My stress and insecurities piled up like a dam, blocking the flow of creativity until I was starved for inspiration.
Since I couldn’t find a way past the block, I threw myself into work for Alessandra instead. It was a lot easier building someone else’s dream than mine. There was less risk, less investment, less fear of failure.
We came up with a name for her business—Floria Designs, in a nod to both the flowers and Florianópolis, her favorite city in Brazil. I set up the social media accounts, designed a basic website, and created a seller account on Etsy. We pored over business plans, marketing strategies, and financial statements.
Sometimes I stayed at Alessandra’s house until ten or eleven at night, but I never caught a glimpse of Dominic. It was like he didn’t even live there.
“He spends most of his time in his office,” Alessandra said when I asked her about it over breakfast one day.
“It seems like a waste to spend this much money on a beautiful house and not enjoy it.” The more time we spent together, the more comfortable I was talking about things other than work.
I didn’t want to pry, but I had a feeling Alessandra needed someone to vent to.
“The penthouse cost him twenty-five million,” she said. “The office makes him over three billion.
Which do you think he cares about more?”
I had no answer to that.
We ate in silence, both lost in our own thoughts, before she spoke again. “How are you doing? Big day today.”
The bread turned to ash on my tongue. “I’m okay. Just nervous for Kai.”
After months of waiting and planning, the Young Corporation’s CEO vote was finally here. I’d set an alert for the results, but my phone had been silent all morning.
“He’ll win,” Alessandra said. “I can’t imagine them choosing anyone else. He’s a Young.”
“I know, but it’ll be nice to confirm.” An unsettling feeling churned in my gut, which I blamed on last night’s heavy dinner.
She was right. Kai was miles ahead of the other candidates. I had no reason to worry.
According to Kai, the board had bought the Clarissa photos hook, line, and sinker. We’d refrained from meeting in person since his family’s surprise visit. It was too risky, given the heightened scrutiny after the Clarissa stunt, so we’d settled for calls and texts.
Not seeing him in person didn’t help my general plague of anxiety, but I was more worried for him than anything else. If he lost…
Don’t go there. He’s not going to lose.
Breakfast continued in a similarly muted manner. Alessandra and I usually had plenty to talk about, but we were both too distracted to make good company.
I glanced at my phone for the twentieth time that morning. Nothing.
“Let’s go over the social media plan again,” Alessandra said after we finished eating. “It’ll help take your mind off other matters.”
“True. There’s nothing like the promise of social media fame to distract me.” I fought the urge to google Young Corporation. What was taking them so long? The voting committee had been deliberating since the morning, and it was mid-afternoon in London already. Maybe my news alerts were broken. “We’ll be one of those companies that’s fun and snarky online, like Wendy’s. I know!” I snapped my fingers. “We can start a mutually beneficial internet war with another pressed flowers company. There’ll be more florals and drama than an episode of Bridezillas. Who wouldn’t want that?”
Doubt suffused Alessandra’s expression. “I don’t know if that’s the best—”
Our phones vibrated at the same time, cutting her off.
We stared at each other for a second before we scrambled to check the news. My heart ricocheted when I glimpsed the name of Kai’s company filling my screen.
This was it.
The CEO vote results were in.
CHAPTER 33
Kai
Dante slammed his fist into my jaw. My head snapped back, and the taste of copper filled my mouth.
It should’ve hurt, but adrenaline blunted the impact. I shook it off and returned his hit with one of my own. The vicious hook caught him high on the chest, eliciting a pained grunt.
Perspiration coated my face and torso. We’d been at it for over an hour. My muscles screamed with agony, and the scent of blood, sweat, and testosterone clogged my nostrils. Once my adrenaline crashed, I was going to be out for at least a day.
I’d worry about that later. For now, I narrowed my focus onto beating Dante and off of a certain meeting in London. Neither the current CEO nor the candidates were allowed in the room during deliberations, so I was flying blind until the election committee announced their decision.
I landed another punch on Dante’s cheek; he caught me in the ribs.
Again and again, the familiar rhythm of our jabs and hooks was almost enough to drive the vote to the back of my mind.
Almost.
“You could’ve saved yourself the torture of waiting if you’d used what I gave you,” he panted, dodging an uppercut. “I literally delivered the position to you on a silver platter. Or in a manila envelope, if we’re being technical.”
It was the first time he’d acknowledged sending Christian’s Christmas “gift.”
“I told you, I don’t need to stoop to blackmail.” The thought of using the information had crossed my mind after the photos of me and Isabella first surfaced, but I’d dismissed it as quickly as it came.
Resorting to blackmail was the same as admitting defeat. It meant I wasn’t good enough to win on my own.
“It’s not blackmail. It’s insurance.” Blood leaked out of a cut on Dante’s brow, and the beginnings of a bruise darkened his jaw.