Judgment Day took place the following morning via videoconference. Considering the pomp and circumstance that surrounded the reading of my father’s will, it seemed pretty anticlimactic for the fate of eight billion dollars to be decided over Zoom, but everyone was too busy to travel to Bogotá for an in-person gathering, so Zoom it was.
Sloane and I were both at my house, but for optics reasons, we took the call in separate rooms. I was in the library; she was in the living room.
Five faces stared back at me from the screen as I explained my business plan, my rebuilding efforts after the fire, and the opening’s smash success. The only thing I didn’t tell them was the fire sabotage part. Alex had sworn me to secrecy, and it’d raise more questions than it answered, especially after he told me he found the saboteur but “couldn’t disclose their identity at this time.” All he said was they had ties to a mercenary group that was targeting certain members of the business community for “confidential reasons.”
Part of me wanted details so I could take revenge on the person who’d caused so much strife, but a larger part was happy to keep the fire in my past and let the professionals deal with it.
General rule of life: don’t go looking for more problems than you already had.
After I finished my spiel, Mariana spoke first. “Before we proceed with our evaluation, we would be remiss if we didn’t acknowledge the biases of certain committee members.”
The chairwoman of the Castillo Group’s board was petite and sturdy-looking with glossy black hair and an air of authoritative competence. She’d never liked me; she thought my behavior reflected poorly on the company, and while she wasn’t exactly wrong, I wasn’t going to let her railroad this meeting or slander Sloane’s character.
Obviously, that was who she was talking about; Mariana was staring straight at Sloane’s square on the screen. To her credit, Sloane didn’t blink an eye at the scrutiny, but I was less forgiving. “I assume you’re referring to my relationship with Sloane. If so, that’s a non-issue,” I said coolly. “Were it an actual issue, you or another committee member should’ve raised your concerns beforehand.”
Mariana gave me a thin smile. “I’m not accusing anyone of anything,” she said, her tone matching mine. “I’m simply reminding all those present that you two are, in fact, dating, and anything Ms. Kensington says will be influenced by that relationship.”
“You’re right.” Sloane cut in before anyone else could respond. Her eyes glinted, and I hid a sudden smile. Mariana was about to get her ass handed to her. “What I say will be influenced by our relationship. I’ve worked with Xavier for three and a half years, and I’m the only person on this call that has watched him build the Vault from the ground up. I’ve watched him grow from a hedonistic degenerate—”
Whoa, a bit harsh, but okay.
“To someone with passion, pride, purpose. That’s the man I fell in love with, and when I cast my vote, those will be the reasons behind it. My vote won’t be biased because I’m dating him; it’ll be biased because I know firsthand how hard he’s worked to launch the Vault. If he wasn’t the type of man who’d do that, we wouldn’t be dating in the first place.” Sloane pinned Mariana with a steady gaze. “Alberto’s will stated Xavier ‘must fulfill the chief executive officer position to the best of his abilities.’ In my opinion, he’s done that and more.” She addressed the rest of the committee. “It should come as no surprise, then, that I vote yes.”
My hidden smile blossomed into a full-fledged grin.
In five minutes, Sloane had undercut Mariana’s sneak attack, redirected the committee’s attention to the purpose of this call, and added the first tally in my column.
That’s my girl.
Mariana looked like she’d swallowed a gallon of raw lemon juice, but there was nothing else she could say on the topic.
The vote proceeded apace.
“I agree with Sloane’s judgment,” Eduardo said. “What Xavier has accomplished in six months is extraordinary, and the coverage has been glowing. I also vote yes.”
My heart rattled in anticipation.
Two out of five. One more vote, and I was in the clear.
“The timeline is impressive, but I’m not convinced of the Vault’s longevity,” Mariana said. “Nightclubs come and go, and in my opinion, it’s a lazy concept to start with. Despite having a silent partner, you answer largely to yourself. There’s no board, no shareholders, nothing you’re truly the CEO of. Fulfilling CEO duties to the best of your ability means choosing something that isn’t an easy win. I vote no.”
Easy win? I locked an acerbic reply behind clenched teeth. Arguing wouldn’t be smart, but she was voting in bad faith. I’d also addressed her later concern in my presentation, which included plans for expansion if the New York location was successful enough.
But I hadn’t expected Mariana to vote yes anyway, so I didn’t push back.
The next vote, however, did shock me. “I’m sorry, Xavier,” Tío Martin said. A feeling of dread curdled in my chest. “As proud as I am personally, Mariana made some good points. I also vote no.” He didn’t elaborate or meet my eyes, and I knew with sudden certainty that, for all his fairness, he wasn’t immune to domestic manipulation. He’d obviously voted no to placate Tía Lupe. Two versus two. It was a tie, and there was one vote left. All eyes swung toward Dante.
He rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, his expression pensive. Our short conversation last night gave me some hope, but I had no idea whether it was enough to overcome his long-seated dislike toward me.
The minutes ticked by.
Tío Martin shifted in his seat.
Eduardo’s brows wrinkled with concern.
Mariana’s mouth pursed so tight it resembled a prune.
Sloane and I were the only ones who didn’t give anything away, though a bead of sweat cut down my back despite an air-conditioned breeze.
Dante lowered his hand and said, so casually he sounded like he was discussing the weather instead of a seven point nine-billion-dollar fortune, “Yes.”
That was it.
No explanation, no grand flourish after keeping us on tenterhooks for so long. Just a simple, resounding yes.
That was all I needed.
Relief exploded behind my ribcage, leaving me lightheaded. A grinning Eduardo started saying something about follow-up paperwork, but his words blurred beneath the weight of my elation.
I did it. I fucking did it.
I didn’t need their validation, but honestly? It felt good to have it.
The call ended minutes later, and I took great satisfaction at the sight of Mariana’s frown before she signed off.
“I screenshotted an image of Mariana’s face so you can look at it if you ever feel down.”
I turned, another smile taking over my face when Sloane entered the room. She wore a perfectly pressed silk blouse and pajama shorts.
The biggest perk of taking work calls at home? No one could see below your waist.
“You take such good care of me,” I teased, pulling her into my lap. “Thanks for casting the first vote, by the way. What you said…”
“Was true. I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.” Sloane’s face softened for an instant before mischief sparked. “Just don’t forget that when you’re drafting your own will. I’m only doing this for your money.”
“Are you now?”
“Yea—aah!” She let out a yelp of surprise when I stood abruptly and maneuvered us so I straddled her on the floor.
“What was that you were saying about my money?” I threatened, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. I reshaped my grin into a stern frown.
Heat and laughter glittered in her eyes. “That it makes you seven point nine billion times hot—oh God.” The rest of her sentence dissolved into a gasp when I slid a hand beneath her shirt and palmed her breast.
It was the weekend, I’d just pulled off the biggest night of my life, and I had a long, free day ahead of me.
If Sloane wanted to tease me, I could return the favor a hundredfold.
“Not God, Luna.” I dipped my head, my mouth brushing hers with each word. She tasted sweet, warm, perfect. “God has no hand in what I’m about to do to you.”
It was for the best, considering our activities in the library, and my bedroom, and the rooftop for the rest of that day were decidedly unholy.
Sloane and I didn’t talk about work, money, or anything else, not even when the sun set and we lay, sweaty and exhausted, in my bed.
That was the best part about being with the right person.
Some days, we could talk all night; other days, we didn’t need words at all. Just being with each other was enough.