Chapter Four: No Longer Your Shadow

Sloane's POV

The way his face instantly went white sickened me.

It shamelessly told me that he still thought I was going to do his bidding, playing the loyal shadow to his failures while he chased after his mistress.

What a joke.

I reached for the crystal glass of vintage bourbon Knox had poured for me, making sure to savor the rich, burning warmth as it coated my throat.

"You'd better figure out another plan if you want your legacy to survive, Finn. Because you aren't getting another ounce of my help."

I set the glass down on the mahogany desk.

Knox just gave me a long, sweeping stare, the dark look in his green eyes telling me that he had a dozen other comments, but he kept them behind his lips and let the heavy silence wrap around us.

Good. I should enjoy the absolute luxury of this private estate at least once before I decide my next move.

But two hours later, the storm outside raging into a violent frenzy, the heavy oak doors of the grand hallway creaked open.

Finn didn't show up alone.

His past flame was trailing right behind him, her fingers clutching his arm like a parasite.

He looked like he was about to run over to my side, his hazel eyes wide with a mixture of anger and desperate panic, but the woman beside him tugged hard on his arm.

From the corner of my mind, it crept back to me that Finn, during this exact time last quarter, had a massive corporate presentation scheduled with the board of directors—one that dictated a titan-sized portion of his inheritance.

In the past, I had stayed up for three days straight, forcing him to rehearse the data, fixing his sloppy metrics while he begged to play his time away with his wealthy friends.

He had walked out of that boardroom with the highest praises from the senior executives, but he still looked at me like I was the dirt he wiped off his shoes.

His mistress would probably know absolutely nothing about corporate logistics if she actually tried to help him, and Finn was always too distracted between spending his father's money and entertaining his own ego.

Besides, I was always there like the loyal lapdog I had been, keeping up-to-date with everything; his schedules, his public relations, his family obligations.

To think I was solo-managing his entire life while he got to play romance with the woman who had abandoned him when he was broke in college.

Let's see how that works out for him now.

The mistress kept throwing sharp, venomous looks at me across the dimly lit drawing room.

I knew she hoped I would be jealous and bitter seeing her clinging so tightly to Finn's arm, but my only real annoyance came from the pathetic noise they were making, and nothing else.

Eventually, they stepped further into the warmth of the room, rain dripping from their expensive coats. She didn't even bother to hand him a towel or take his wet jacket.

She just dried her own hands with a silk handkerchief and tossed it over to him as an afterthought before gliding toward me with a smug, cat-like smile.

"Sloane, Finn told me something absolutely awful," she purred, her eyes scanning my tailored dress.

"Are you really moving your things out of the penthouse?

Don't tell me you're throwing a tantrum over a little break?"

With Knox still watching silently from the shadows of the upper gallery and Finn several meters away having to untangle his own wet coat for the first time instead of having me do it for him, she felt perfectly free to reveal a little bit of her fangs.

Her words on the surface carried a note of faux sympathy, but it was a huge juxtaposition from the massive, triumphant smirk on her face.

From the looks of things, it seemed like Finn had not told her about the ten-billion-dollar asset settlement I was aiming for.

If he had, she would have already started throwing a massive fit about her future shopping allowance.

Nevertheless, she'll find out soon enough when she escorts him to the corporate chopping block.

•••••••••••••

By midnight, I was no longer standing in the main hall.

Knox had personally escorted me to the grand penthouse suite of the estate—a room usually reserved exclusively for the head of the empire.

I hadn't been completely stupid during my ten years of devotion.

I had kept a private, massive rainy-day fund.

Though I had originally saved it with the foolish hope of supporting Finn in case his father ever cut him off, now it was purely for my own benefit.

I cozied into a plush, velvet armchair, carrying my eyes out to the flashing lightning over the estate grounds.

My phone rang with a call from a number I had been anticipating.

I ignored the pile of thirty missed calls I had gotten from Finn in the last five hours, bringing the phone straight to my ear.

In moments, a deep, velvety voice oozed through the speaker after I gave a polite good evening.

"Evening to you as well, Miss Mercer. Or perhaps I'm jumping the gun. Or am I supposed to still call you my son's shadow?"

"Legally, I am completely untethered, Mr. Hartley.

I'll have the formal separation and consulting invoices filed and official before this week ends."

"I'm afraid I'm inclined to doubt his sanity then, Sloane," Knox murmured, his voice sending a delicious vibration through the line.

"What man in his right mind would throw away the very anchor keeping his ship afloat?"

I squeezed the phone tight, my heart hammering against my ribs.

On the other side of this line was arguably the most powerful, dangerous billionaire in the country.

Knox Hartley.

A man whose name was synonymous with ruthless dominance.

For what it was worth, his heavy compliment was like a light balm to the wounds my self-esteem had endured over the last decade.

"Don't worry," I said, propping my laptop over my knees and opening the file containing Finn’s mismanaged portfolio data.

"He will have no other choice than to grant me exactly what I demand."

"I hold you to your words then," Knox said, pausing momentarily. His voice dropped an octave, turning thick with sudden curiosity.

"What changed, Sloane?"

"About me?"

"Yes," he responded quickly, the sound of him pouring a fresh glass of bourbon echoing softly over the line.

"Five years ago, at the annual gala, I offered to bring you directly into the executive tier of Hartley Global.

You threw that offer right back at my face.

You told me your only fulfillment was supporting Finn’s future."

The memory made the corners of my ears go red.

Back then, Finn had taken me to the elite gathering just to show me off like a trophy, leaving me in a corner while he went to mingle.

Knox had cornered me near the terrace, his sharp green eyes seeing right through the facade. He knew even then that I was the one ghost-writing Finn's corporate triumphs.

I had bluntly rejected his job offer because I thought my loyalty would eventually earn me a wedding ring.

"Let's just say I want to be where I'm truly valued now, Mr. Hartley," I whispered into the receiver, a cold, dangerous confidence washing over me.

"So just wait.

Within forty-eight hours, we'll be talking face-to-face across your boardroom table."