Chapter 7 - Don't Fall in Love With Me
"What happened eight years ago?" Beatrice asked.
Bastion didn't answer immediately.
That hurt more than if he had lied.
"Bastion."
"I met Nathan."
Her breath caught.
"When?"
"Three days after his supposed death."
Nathan lowered his head.
Beatrice stared between them.
"You knew?"
"Not everything."
"You knew he was alive."
"Yes."
Eight years.
Bastion had known.
Anger rose through her so quickly she almost couldn't speak.
"You stood in my apartment while I found out my mentor might be alive and said nothing."
"I didn't know Nathan was your mentor."
"You knew his name."
"Not when we first met."
"But later?"
"Yes."
"And you still said nothing."
"I was trying to understand why he had returned."
Beatrice laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"Of course."
"Beatrice."
"Don't."
The same word she had used earlier.
But everything had changed.
Julian watched with satisfaction.
That was enough to make Beatrice stop.
Nathan had taught her something else.
Never give an opponent the reaction they paid to create.
She looked at Julian.
"This is what you wanted."
He smiled.
"You're clever."
"You wanted me angry at Bastion."
"Doesn't require much effort."
"Because while we're fighting, nobody asks the important question."
Julian's smile faded.
Beatrice pointed toward the transfer.
"Why would Nathan move one hundred and eighty million three days after faking his death?"
Nathan finally spoke.
"Because it wasn't money."
Beatrice turned.
"What?"
"It was ownership."
The transfer represented assets.
Property.
Shares.
Patents.
Real-estate holdings.
Bastion's father had moved them into a protected trust before his death.
Nathan had executed the final transfer.
Not theft.
Protection.
From Julian.
Julian's entire scheme suddenly became clear.
He didn't merely want Mercer Logistics.
He wanted the hidden assets his father had placed beyond his reach.
The forty million was the cost of forcing everyone into one room.
The trust activation would merge the assets back under Mercer control.
Then Julian could seize everything.
Beatrice looked at the papers.
"If I don't sign?"
"He can't complete the merger," Nathan said.
Julian sighed.
"Unfortunately, we're beyond requests."
He pressed a button.
The boardroom doors opened.
Several private security contractors appeared outside.
No visible weapons.
No theatrical threats.
Just men blocking the exits.
Bastion moved beside Beatrice.
Julian looked at him.
"Still protecting her."
"Yes."
"You always were predictable."
Bastion smiled faintly.
"So are you."
Julian frowned.
Then the building alarms activated.
Not fire alarms.
Security alarms.
Julian turned toward the windows.
Police vehicles appeared below.
His face changed.
Beatrice looked at Bastion.
"You called them?"
"No."
Nathan smiled.
"I did."
Julian stared at him.
Nathan lifted his phone.
"The evidence Beatrice distributed included everything."
Julian moved toward Nathan.
Bastion stepped between them.
"No."
One word.
Julian stopped.
For years, he had manipulated everyone around him through secrets.
Now there were none left.
Adrian stood.
"I'll testify."
Daniel entered from the hallway.
"So will I."
Tomas appeared behind him.
"And me."
Julian looked around.
His carefully constructed world was collapsing.
Beatrice closed the trust documents.
"And I won't sign."
Julian stared at her.
"You think this ends with me?"
"No."
She looked toward the approaching authorities below.
"I think it starts with accountants."
For the first time, Bastion laughed openly.
Minutes later, investigators entered.
Julian was escorted away for questioning while financial records, witness statements, and the shell-company evidence were secured.
Nothing about the process was dramatic.
That made it more satisfying.
Paperwork could destroy empires more effectively than shouting ever had.
By evening, Beatrice sat alone in Bastion's penthouse library.
Power had been restored.
The ventilation hummed.
Manhattan glowed beyond the windows.
She heard him enter.
"You're leaving."
It wasn't a question.
Her suitcase stood beside the desk.
"Yes."
"Because I lied."
"You withheld the truth."
"Difference?"
"Not enough of one."
He nodded.
She appreciated that he didn't argue.
"I was protecting Nathan's agreement with my father."
"You were protecting a secret."
"Yes."
"At my expense."
"Yes."
She looked at him.
No excuses.
That made leaving harder.
"You hurt me."
"I know."
"And don't tell me you're sorry unless you understand what for."
Bastion crossed the room.
"I let you believe I trusted you completely while keeping information that directly concerned your life. I decided what you were allowed to know because I thought my reasons were more important than your right to choose."
Beatrice's throat tightened.
That was precisely it.
He continued.
"I was wrong."
She looked away.
"You're annoyingly good at apologies."
"I've had little practice."
"That makes it worse."
He stopped several feet from her.
No grabbing.
No command.
No locked door.
For once, Bastion Mercer simply waited.
"What happens now?" she asked.
"You decide."
"That's new."
"I'm learning."
She smiled despite herself.
Then she looked toward the windows.
"Your company is going to be under investigation for months."
"Probably years."
"You'll need forensic accounting."
"I know someone."
"She's expensive."
"I can afford her."
"Forty million less than before."
He almost smiled.
Beatrice's expression softened.
"But I'm not staying here."
"I understand."
"And I'm not becoming some woman hidden on the top floor of your hotel."
"I would never ask."
"And whatever this is..."
She gestured between them.
"It doesn't erase what happened."
"No."
She picked up her suitcase.
Bastion stepped aside.
Beatrice walked toward the door.
Her hand reached the handle.
Then Bastion spoke.
"Beatrice."
She stopped.
"Don't fall in love with me," she said without turning.
"I believe that was your rule."
"It was."
"And?"
She finally looked back.
He was watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read.
"I broke plenty of mine for you."
Her heart betrayed her with one hard beat.
She opened the door.
Tomas stood outside.
His expression was urgent.
"Ms. Abbott."
"What?"
"We found the final account."
Beatrice put down her suitcase.
"Where?"
Tomas held out a tablet.
She looked at the balance.
Then at the account holder.
Her face changed.
Because the final account wasn't registered to Julian.
It wasn't registered to Nathan.
May you like
It wasn't even registered to a Mercer.
It was registered to Beatrice Abbott...
