Chapter 22 – A Public Test

The quarterly executive briefing was supposed to be routine.

It never was—especially not at Stone Holdings.

May stood near the presentation screen, tablet in hand, posture relaxed but commanding. The room was full: senior executives, board members, department heads—and at the far end, seated like a shadow that loomed over everything—Daxton Stone himself.

His sharp eyes never left her.

Evelyn Royce sat two seats away from him, legs crossed elegantly, lips curved in a faint, knowing smile.

Damien entered last.

The room stilled.

Not because he was the CEO—but because everyone could feel the tension humming between the three of them.

“Let’s begin,” Daxton said coolly. “Ms. Royce will present first.”

Evelyn stood, gliding toward the screen. “Thank you, Chairman.”

Her presentation was polished. Conservative. Safe.

When she finished, there was polite applause.

Then Daxton turned his gaze toward May.

“Ms. Austin. Your proposal.”

May stepped forward.

And the room leaned in.

She didn’t rush. She didn’t smile. She simply owned the space.

“This quarter,” May began, “Stone Holdings gained market attention not because we played it safe—but because we dared to evolve.”

She tapped the screen.

Numbers appeared.

Gasps followed.

Growth. Expansion. Partnerships.

Real results.

Evelyn’s smile faltered—just for a second.

“These results,” May continued calmly, “came from a strategy many called reckless. But innovation always looks dangerous to those who benefit from the old ways.”

Her eyes flicked—briefly—to Evelyn.

Then away.

Daxton narrowed his eyes.

“Impressive,” he said slowly. “But results can be manipulated.”

May met his gaze directly. “So can fear.”

A ripple moved through the room.

Damien’s chest tightened.

That was it.

The line.

Evelyn stood abruptly. “Chairman, if I may—”

“Sit,” Daxton said sharply.

Silence.

May didn’t look away.

And in that moment, admiration turned into something stronger.

Respect.

Loyalty.

After the meeting, executives surrounded May—not with flattery, but with something more dangerous.

Support.

Damien watched it happen.

Watched how she didn’t cling to attention, didn’t overplay her hand.

She listened.

She guided.

She led.

And for the first time, he realized something clearly:

She wasn’t just surviving the Stone world.

She was changing it.

At home that evening, Aria talked non-stop.

“Mum! Aiden said Evelyn scares him. And she yells at the helpers. And she said I shouldn’t touch Daddy’s desk—”

May’s hands stilled.

“What did Aiden say exactly?” she asked gently.

Aria shrugged. “That he’s not allowed to cry when she’s around.”

May’s chest tightened.

Aiden sat quietly on the couch, shoulders hunched in a way no child’s should be.

She sat beside him slowly. “Sweetheart… has someone been unkind to you?”

He hesitated.

Then nodded.

Not crying.

Just nodding.

Something inside May snapped—not violently, but decisively.

She glanced at Lily.

Lily’s eyes were already dark with understanding.

“Sis,” Lily said softly, “he looks like he’s been carrying too much.”

May rested a hand over Aiden’s.

And in that moment, it wasn’t instinct whispering anymore.

It was certainty.

Across the city, Sophia sat across from David in his family’s private clinic lounge.

“They won’t approve of me,” she said quietly. “Your name opens doors. Mine… doesn’t.”

David exhaled slowly. “You think I don’t know that?”

She looked at him.

“They already warned me,” he continued. “Told me not to get involved with someone who doesn’t ‘fit’.”

Sophia smiled bitterly. “Sounds familiar.”

David reached for her hand—then paused.

“I don’t want to be another man who watches and does nothing,” he said honestly.

She studied his face.

Then placed her hand in his.

“Then don’t be.”

Outside, the Stone family wars were spreading—quietly, efficiently—into every corner.

Later that night, Damien stood outside May’s door.

He knocked once.

Then twice.

When she opened it, the air shifted.

Not desire.

Not tension.

Something deeper.

“I should’ve stopped this sooner,” he said quietly. “Evelyn. My grandfather. All of it.”

May looked at him steadily. “You didn’t create the system, Damien. But you benefit from it.”

His jaw tightened. “And I’m choosing to dismantle it.”

She searched his face.

And believed him.

“For Aiden,” she said softly.

He nodded. “For all of them.”

Silence stretched.

Then May spoke again—calm, devastating.

“She knows he’s afraid of her.”

Damien’s blood went cold. “What?”

“She controls through fear,” May continued. “That’s not strength. That’s weakness.”

Something hardened in Damien’s eyes.

“Then she’s finished,” he said quietly.

May didn’t smile.

But she didn’t stop him either.