Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Damian

Three months into our second marriage, Mason walked into my office holding a manila folder like it might explode.

“You should sit down for this.”

“That’s never a good opener.”

“It’s about the Hensley acquisition.”

I sat down anyway. The Hensley deal had been in negotiation for nearly a year, one of the largest expansions Blackwood Industries had attempted in over a decade. If it fell through, the financial repercussions would ripple through the entire company for years.

“What happened?”

“Their board is getting cold feet. Someone’s been feeding them information about internal instability. Leadership disputes, family conflict, that sort of thing.”

My stomach tightened. “Richard again?”

“I don’t think so, actually. I think this one’s Ethan.”

The name landed heavier than I expected. Since Harper had ended things with him months before our marriage, Ethan had mostly kept his distance, sulking rather than scheming, at least as far as I’d observed.

“Explain.”

“He’s been meeting with Hensley’s junior executives. Nothing official, nothing that would raise flags immediately, but enough casual conversation to plant doubt. He’s telling them the marriage caused a rift between you and Richard, that the company’s leadership is fractured.”

“It’s not entirely inaccurate,” I admitted. “Richard and I are still finding our footing.”

“That’s not the point. The point is Ethan’s using private family matters to sabotage a business deal that has nothing to do with him.”

Harper found me still processing the news later that evening, tension clearly written across my face despite my attempts to hide it.

“What happened?”

“Ethan’s trying to tank the Hensley acquisition.”

Something sharp flashed across her expression. “How?”

“Spreading rumors about family instability. Using our marriage as ammunition.”

Harper’s jaw tightened, anger replacing the surprise almost instantly. “He’s still doing this? After everything?”

“Apparently his ego hasn’t fully recovered from losing you.”

“He never had me to lose,” she said. “Not really. Not the way that matters.”

I pulled her closer, some of my own tension easing slightly at her certainty. “I know that. Hensley’s board doesn’t, though. Not yet.”

“Then we make sure they do.”

The following week, we invited Hensley’s board to a private dinner, similar to the strategy that had worked with Halloway months earlier, though this time the stakes felt considerably higher given the acquisition’s size.

Ethan, predictably, made an appearance uninvited, arriving just as dinner service began, expression carefully arranged into something resembling casual confidence.

“Family dinner?” he asked, sliding into an empty seat before anyone could object. “How touching.”

“Ethan,” Damian said evenly. “This is a business dinner. You weren’t invited.”

“I’m still family. Or did marrying Harper erase that too?”

The comment landed with obvious intent, several Hensley executives glancing between us with visible discomfort. Harper’s expression remained carefully neutral, though I recognized the controlled anger simmering beneath her composure.

“Ethan,” she said calmly. “Whatever you’re trying to accomplish here, it’s not going to work.”

“I’m just having dinner with family.”

“You’re trying to sabotage a business deal because you can’t accept that I chose someone else,” Harper said, voice steady despite the sharpness of her words. “That’s not family. That’s bitterness.”

Ethan’s expression flickered, something defensive replacing his earlier smugness. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Harper continued, addressing the table now rather than just Ethan. “For everyone here wondering about supposed family instability — Ethan’s spreading rumors because our marriage ended something between us that never should have started in the first place. This has nothing to do with Blackwood Industries’ leadership, and everything to do with wounded pride.”

The table fell silent, several Hensley representatives exchanging uncomfortable glances. Ethan’s face reddened slightly, clearly unprepared for such direct confrontation.

“That’s not—”

“Isn’t it?” I interjected, calm despite the anger simmering beneath my own composure. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve spent months trying to damage something you have no actual stake in, purely out of resentment.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like,” Ethan said, voice cracking slightly, “watching everyone constantly choose you. My father’s approval. Harper’s attention. Even Lily prefers spending time with you now instead of me.”

The admission, raw and unguarded, shifted the tension in the room slightly. For the first time, I saw past Ethan’s usual arrogance into something more vulnerable underneath.

“Lily’s eight,” Harper said, gentler now. “She loves you, Ethan. But you have to actually show up for her instead of resenting the people who do.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, something like shame flickering behind his expression. He stood abruptly, chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, though the words carried far less conviction than his earlier bravado.

Once he’d left, an uncomfortable silence lingered before Marcus Hensley finally cleared his throat.

“I apologize for the interruption,” I said, addressing the table directly. “Family complications aside, I assure you the leadership of this company remains stable and fully focused on this acquisition’s success.”

“Actually,” Marcus said slowly, “I think that interruption told us more than any presentation could have. Watching you both handle that with composure, honesty, and mutual respect — that’s more reassuring than any spreadsheet.”

The tension eased considerably after that, conversation shifting naturally back toward business, the earlier doubt largely dissolved by the unexpected authenticity of the confrontation.

Later that night, once the dinner had ended successfully, Harper and I sat together on the balcony, exhaustion and relief mixing in equal measure.

“That wasn’t exactly the strategy we planned,” I said.

“No,” she agreed. “But it worked.”

“You were incredible tonight. Handling him like that.”

“I meant every word,” Harper said. “I do feel sorry for him, in some strange way. He’s just never learned how to be loved without controlling it.”

“That’s generous of you.”

“I can afford generosity now,” she said. “I got everything I actually wanted.”

I pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Ethan’s going to keep causing problems, probably.”

“Probably,” Harper agreed. “But we’ll keep handling them. Together.”

“Together,” I echoed.

We sat there quietly for a while, watching the city lights flicker beyond the balcony, another crisis handled, another small victory earned through patience and honesty rather than manipulation or fear.

Whatever Ethan tried next, whatever lingering resentment continued simmering beneath his bitterness, we’d face it exactly the way we’d faced everything else.