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Don presses, “Is there a reason these partners haven’t signed on yet? Does something about this project give them pause?”
I assure the team. “The companies will want to see the vision materialize first, then they will come in droves, then we’ll negotiate.”
Don nods, his expression thoughtful, yet the glint in his eye suggests he’s filed this information away for later use. “Just make sure you’re not negotiating away your ship, captain. It’d be a shame if it eventually sailed without you.”
“Good thing being a captain isn’t only about navigating the ship; it’s about knowing who needs to be thrown overboard.”
My veiled threat hangs heavily in the now silent room. Even Don looks shocked. They know I don’t make threats. I prefer to maintain an air of charm even while striking cruel blows.
Someone chuckles, and the others take their cue from that. In a few moments, the room erupts into laughter, each one as fake as the other, but it’s enough to diffuse the tension brimming between the CEO and COO.
Time to wrap this shit up and go home. I raise my glass. “To new horizons.”
Glasses clink again, and then the room fills with chatter, much of it from those eager for more insight into the new product launch.
I let conversations flow for a few more minutes, then decide it’s time to clear the room. “Guys, give us some space, will you?”
I don’t need to say more. Knowing glances are exchanged—some tinged with nervousness, others with a sense of relief. These folks have worked with me for four years; Don’s leadership over them is still fresh, barely a few months old. I’d like to believe the majority are still in my corner.
Once the room empties, Don, already knowing what’s coming, turns to face me.
“Ryan–” he begins.
“First off, Ronald,” I cut him off sharply, using his full name to underscore how serious I am. Cross me again, or question my leadership in front of others, and I’ll make sure you learn firsthand how unforgiving the corporate sea can be when you’re adrift without a lifeboat.”
Don protests, “Surely, I’m allowed to ask questions.”
I snap, “As COO, you’re supposed to be answering those questions, not undermining the very foundation you stand on. Hell, you’re so busy looking for weaknesses, you don’t realize you’re sawing off the branch we’re both sitting on.
He asserts, a hint of defiance in his voice, “I contribute just as much to this company, if not more.”
“And that’s great to hear. But since you’ve taken such a keen interest in renewable energy, I’m now tasking you with bringing two companies to the negotiating table by next month. Get me Apex Energy and Green Wave.”
He chafes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “They’re not the energy companies I would’ve chosen.”
I raise an eyebrow. “No? Well, they’re the ones I’m choosing. You have four weeks, Ronald.”
He mutters something under his breath and turns to leave, but I’m not quite finished.
“One more thing,” I closed the distance between us. “I’ve tolerated your antics for years, letting them roll off my back. But that leniency ends where Stella begins. If you ever get within two feet of my wife again or try to stir up shit, I will tear the entire Reuben Fairchild lineage apart and cheer as the pieces crumble.”
The hatred in his pale blue eyes is unmistakable, but it’s overshadowed by fear. Satisfied, I take a step back. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”
Once he’s gone, I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension. Drawing this line in the sand was grim but necessary. Don is growing bolder by the day, his resentment more evident. Something tells me I might need to act on my threats soon.
I pull out my phone to call Stella, but it goes unanswered. It doesn’t matter; I know she’s at home. Leaving the viewing room, I head home, resolved to spend the rest of the day buried in her tight heat.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Stella
I stretch lazily. I’ve been in this scented bubble bath for the past half hour, trying to pass time until I can head to Ocean Gate to see its CEO. Ryan’s been in London on business for the past week. I don’t think there’s anything more depressing than this huge penthouse without him in it.
Even at the start, when I hardly saw him, his presence lingered in every corner. And over the past two months, we’ve become inseparable, doing everything side by side. I’ve even started waking up earlier to watch him at the gym, and he’s managed to rope me into joining him.
My phone vibrates on the marble countertop, and I pick it up carefully, trying not to get it wet. It’s a text from Ada Patson, his secretary.
He’s free from one, but he has a meeting with the New York team at two. I’ll block that time off for you.
