All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Last Clause : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Daniel's POVThe report lay flat on my desk.I've read it four times now. Not three, like I told my assistant to communicate. Four complete reads, plus another six where I jumped between sections, studying her word choices, the way she structures arguments.It's brilliant. Undeniably brilliant.The graphs alone are masterful—data visualization that tells a story rather than just presenting numbers. But it's the writing that destroys me. Clear, elegant prose that makes complex market analysis read like poetry."In the space between what consumers want and what corporations provide lies opportunity. Sterling Holdings stands at that threshold, but thresholds are temporary. Step through, or watch others claim the territory."I remember watching her read in our apartment—my apartment, when it was ours. She'd curl into the corner of the couch with novels, sometimes reading passages aloud just because she loved how the words sounded."Listen to this," she'd say, eyes bright. And I'd pretend

Amelia's POVThe executive floor is filled with expensive and new computers.I've been in this elevator for thirty-seven floors, watching numbers climb, wondering if I'm ascending or falling. My reflection in the polished doors shows no cracks. Fourthieth floor. Daniel's domain.His assistant—new since my time, someone who doesn't know me as anything but an appointment—gestures toward familiar double doors."Mr. Sterling is expecting you, Ms. Hart."I smooth my suit. Check my bag for the tablet loaded with supplementary data. One breath. Two. Then I push through doors I used to enter without knocking, into a space I used to know as intimately as my own reflection.The office hasn't changed.Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Sleek desk—the same one where I'd perch while he worked late, reading aloud from novels he pretended not to enjoy. Leather chairs. Chrome accents. Everything cold and beautiful and impersonal.Except.The painting on the west wall. Coastal scene, all

Daniel’s POVThe documents are spread across my desk. Crane merger contracts. Partnership agreements. Subsidiary authorizations. All the paperwork that should secure Sterling Holdings’ future.Except nothing is secure. Nothing is what it seems.“Walk me through it,” Nathan says, moving to stand beside my desk.I force myself not to look at Amelia. She’s standing near the door, still wearing that sharp pink suit, eyes slightly red like she’s been…Don’t. Focus on the crisis.I point to the merger clause on page forty-seven. “This section grants Crane Enterprises majority control in year three. Not partnership. Control.”“That wasn’t in the original terms we discussed,” Nathan says slowly.“No. It wasn’t.” I flip to another document. “And here—subsidiary transfer authorizations that would give Crane access to our intellectual property portfolio. Client databases. Trade secrets. Everything that makes Sterling Holdings valuable.”Amelia hasn’t said anything. She stands near the door, arms

Daniel's POVThe conference room transforms into chaos within minutes, but all I can focus on is her.Amelia moves through the documents with surgical precision, marking irregularities, tracing connections I would have missed. She's always been brilliant—how did I forget that? How did I convince myself she was anything less than extraordinary?Nathan coordinates with legal. I'm on the phone with forensic accountants. And Amelia builds the case that might save everything I almost destroyed."Here." She marks another document, and I notice her hand—no wedding ring. Of course there's no ring. I made sure of that. "This transfer authorization routes through a secondary shell company. Cascade Holdings. Also registered to Marcus Hale."I lean over her shoulder to see. Too close. I catch the scent of her shampoo—jasmine and vanilla, the same brand she's used since we met. Some things haven't changed.Everything else has."How many shell companies are we looking at?" I ask, trying to focus on

Amelia's POVI didn't go home after work.Instead, I go to the only place that makes sense—the small office Nathan arranged for me three floors below the executive suite. My temporary workspace. My temporary purpose.Lydia's words echo in the marble-and-glass silence: Remember your place.Fine. I'll remember my place.And then I'll use it to destroy her.I pull up every database I can access. LexisNexis. SEC filings. Corporate registries. If Marcus Hale has a pattern, I'm going to find it.Two hours in, my eyes burning from screen glare, I find the first one.Meridian Tech. Five years ago. Hostile takeover disguised as a partnership. Marcus acquired 30% through shell companies, then orchestrated a board coup. The CEO—a man named James Rothwell—lost everything. The company was liquidated within eighteen months.I keep digging.Apex Industries. Three years ago. Same pattern. Strategic partnership that became a hostile acquisition. The founding family was destroyed. Assets stripped and s