CHAPTER 61

Chapter Sixty One

Kent’s Pov

My thumb hovers over the cracked screen where Freya’s email sits like a bomb waiting to go off, breathing frozen in my throat.

Clack. Kent drops his keys on the counter.

I don't look at the phone draft yet. I look straight into his tired eyes.

"Freya called," I say, my voice flat and sharp as a blade.

Kent’s shoulders lock. The tiredness on his face turns into hard stone. "What did she say?"

"She said you sat with Robert. She said there's a paper copy sitting in your briefing folder right now tying my enrollment audit clearance to your wire release." I cross my arms, forcing my legs steady. "Tell me straight, Kent. Did Robert put an exit clause with my name on it?"

Kent stares at me for two long seconds. Then he lets out a heavy, ragged breath, running a hand down his face. He walks past the kitchen island, dropping his heavy leather portfolio onto the table with a dull thud. He flips the brass latches, pulls out a single thick sheaf of cream legal paper, and slides it straight across to my hand.

"He tried," Kent says quietly, his voice raw. "Robert slid that exact addendum across the mahogany ten minutes into the meeting."

My heart jumps into my throat. I look down at the printed page.

...scholarship compliance review and future institutional hold lifted upon formal separation notice...

My fingers curl tight into the paper. "You let him walk away with this draft in your hand?"

"I didn't sign it," Kent snaps back, stepping close enough that I feel the heat of his anger—not at me, at the room he just walked out of. He reaches down, taking the paper from my fingers and folding it in half, then quarters, tossing it straight into the trash bin like garbage. "I told Robert and his proxy lawyer to shove the equity seed where the sun doesn't shine. I walked out empty-handed on their cash, Daniella. My company has three weeks of cash buffer left, and I am not selling your name to buy a month of runway."

The tight knot of panic in my chest loosens into a sharp, burning ache.

I look at him standing there—stressed, broke on paper, hunted by his own bloodline, yet burning every trap they set just to keep me standing beside him.

"Why didn't you tell me how bad the cash burn was?" I whisper, my voice cracking a little. "Why hide that the supply chain pull was choking you out?"

Kent looks down at the floor, his jaw tight. "Because I didn't want you lying awake at night thinking my choices are costing you your future. You're pregnant, Daniella. You're fighting the university audit. I didn't want my financial wreckage becoming your morning sickness."

A hot tear spills over my lashes, tracking fast down my cheek. I step into his space, pressing my palm flat against his chest right over his heartbeat.

"I am your partner, Kent," I say, my voice shaking with fierce truth. "Not a glass doll you put on a shelf when the weather turns bad. If you're starving your company to protect my feelings, you're missing the whole point of why I didn't run when your trust fund froze."

Kent looks down at me, his dark eyes going wide with sudden, staggering clarity. The rough lines of his face soften, breaking open. He wraps both arms around my waist, pulling me hard against his chest, burying his face in my hair.

"I messed up," Kent murmurs against my skin, his voice thick. "I thought carrying it alone made me strong. It just made me stupid."

"Never again," I whisper against his collarbone, gripping his shirt. "Do you hear me, Kent? Even if the numbers look like a dumpster fire, you tell me. Good, bad, ugly. All of it."

Kent pulls back just enough to look straight into my eyes, his thumbs resting warm and heavy on my cheekbones. His expression settles into something sacred.

"I promise," Kent vows low and steady. "From this second on, you know everything. Even if the truth scares the hell out of both of us."

We stand like that in the quiet kitchen, wrapped in tight shadows while the city sleeps outside. The danger isn't gone. Robert Vance is still going to leak the vendor pull. The university audit is still ticking like a clock. My bank account has rent due and grocery lists that don't match our cash flow.

I don't care.

For the first time since I stepped foot on that rainy campus, I am facing the storm with open eyes and a hand locked tight in mine.

Kent presses a slow, deep kiss to my forehead, then pulls me toward the small hallway leading to our bed. "Come on. We sleep four hours. Then we wake up and build a revenue model Robert can't touch."

"Deal," I whisper.