Chapter 2: Thirty Days

By the time I returned to Bennett Industries, the confidence I had carried out of Cross Enterprises had already begun to weaken. Nathan Cross had given me thirty days, but I refused to think of those thirty days as a countdown to surrender. I had rejected his proposal because I believed I could save my father’s company without becoming indebted to the man I blamed for its situation, and I intended to prove that belief right.

Maya was waiting outside my office when I arrived, a folder tucked against her chest and a worried expression on her face. She had worked beside me for nearly two years, long enough to recognize when I was trying to hide something, and the moment I walked past her, she followed me into the office.

“You were gone longer than expected, Celine,” Maya said as she placed the folder on my desk. “Did Nathan Cross agree to give us more time?”

I dropped my folder beside hers and sank into my chair before answering, “He made me an offer, but it was not the kind of offer I expected.”

Maya pulled out the chair opposite me and asked, “What did he offer you?”

“He offered to save Bennett Industries if I marry him for one year,” I said, watching her expression change.

For several seconds, Maya said nothing, and then she slowly leaned back in her chair. “He actually asked you to marry him?”

“Yes,” I replied. “And I told him no.”

Maya studied me carefully before asking, “Why would Nathan Cross want to marry you when he could simply buy the company?”

“That is exactly what I cannot understand,” I admitted. “He told me he does not want my father’s company, but he is willing to clear the immediate debt and restructure the remaining obligations if I become his wife.”

Maya frowned as she considered the proposal. “That does not sound like a normal business decision.”

“It is not,” I agreed. “But whatever his reasons are, I am not going to spend the next thirty days wondering about them. I am going to find another solution.”

Maya opened the folder she had brought and pushed it toward me. “Then we should start with the investors who were still considering us before the liquidation warning became official.”

I nodded and opened the folder. “Call every one of them. I want updated figures, new appointments, and written confirmation of their current positions.”

“I already started making calls while you were gone,” Maya said. “Three investors declined this morning, but two asked for our revised financial projections.”

“Then we still have a chance,” I replied.

For the rest of the afternoon, I worked through every possible option. I contacted banks that had previously expressed interest in Bennett Industries, approached private investors, reviewed our strongest divisions, and searched for potential partners who might be willing to inject enough capital to prevent liquidation. Every rejection hurt, but none of them was enough to make me consider Nathan's proposal.

By late afternoon, I had made twelve calls and received twelve variations of the same answer, leaving me with the growing realization that determination alone would not be enough to save Bennett Industries if every financial institution was unwilling to take the risk.

Maya returned to my office with another cup of coffee and placed it beside my laptop. “You have not eaten since morning,” she said.

“I will eat when we find someone willing to invest,” I replied.

“That could take longer than one day,” Maya warned.

“I know,” I said, looking at the financial report on my screen. “But I have thirty days.”

The words sounded different when I said them aloud. Thirty days was no longer an abstract deadline Nathan had mentioned before I walked away. It had become the amount of time I had to save my father’s legacy before someone else decided its fate.

After Maya left, I returned to the investor list, but her question stayed with me. Why me? Nathan had enough money to acquire Bennett Industries outright if he wanted it, so there was no obvious reason for him to marry a woman who had spent the past two weeks accusing him of destroying her family’s company. The more I considered his proposal, the more unsettling it became because I could not understand what he actually wanted from me. I eventually pushed the question aside and forced myself back into the work, reminding myself that whatever Nathan’s reasons were, I would not allow them to distract me from finding another solution.

The following morning, I met with a potential investor who seemed interested in acquiring a minority stake in Bennett Industries. For nearly an hour, I presented our recovery plan, explained our strongest divisions, and showed him the contracts that could restore our revenue once the immediate financial pressure was removed. He listened carefully, asked intelligent questions, and gave me enough encouragement to make me believe I might finally have found a solution. That hope lasted only until his phone rang near the end of the meeting. His expression changed as he listened, and when he finally ended the call, he slowly closed the folder containing my proposal.

“I am sorry, Miss Bennett,” he said as he returned the documents to me. “My legal team has advised me not to proceed.”

I kept my voice steady as I asked, “Did your legal team find a problem with the company?”

“No,” he replied. “They believe the debt situation makes the investment too risky.”

I gathered my documents and asked, “Did they recommend another option?”

He hesitated before answering, “They suggested you speak with Cross Enterprises.”

I felt my jaw tighten at the mention of Nathan’s company, but I forced myself to remain composed. “Thank you for your time,” I said as I stood.

When I returned to the office, I found Maya waiting with another rejection letter. I took it from her without opening it because I already knew what it would say.

“How many more do we have?” I asked.

“Seven potential investors,” Maya answered. “But after today, I am not sure any of them will take the risk.”

“We will contact all seven,” I said. “I am not going to let one rejection become an excuse to stop.”

That night, I remained in my office long after the rest of the building had emptied. My father’s photograph sat on the corner of my desk, and I found myself staring at it whenever exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me. He had trusted me with everything he built, and I could not bear the thought of being the person who allowed it to disappear.

Just after midnight, my phone vibrated against the desk, startling me out of my concentration. I glanced at the screen and saw an unfamiliar number, and although I considered ignoring it, the message beneath the number made me open it.

Thirty days began yesterday.

I stared at the words, recognizing the sender immediately even though Nathan had not signed his name. Before I could decide whether to respond, a second message appeared on the screen.

I hope you find the solution you’re looking for, Celine.

I read the message twice, expecting arrogance or mockery, but there was neither. Instead, there was something almost unsettlingly calm about it, as though Nathan genuinely meant what he had said when we parted: he would leave me alone if I succeeded. I locked my phone and looked again at the financial reports covering my desk, feeling the weight of the twenty-nine days remaining and wondering whether Nathan Cross had been completely certain that I would eventually return to him.

I hated the possibility that he might be right, especially because I had spent the entire day trying to prove that I could save Bennett Industries without him.