Page 121 of Terms of Exposure
"The Davidson breach," she continued, leaning forward. "The documents that leaked—I saw them, Emma. I compared them to our internal files. They matched. Every number, every projection, every line item." Her voice hardened. "Those weren't doctored. They were real."
"And Damien stood in front of everyone and said Davidson had manipulated the data to tank the merger." Her gaze bored into mine. "That was a lie."
"Yes," I said, teeth pressed together until my jaw throbbed.
Jennifer's face went pale. "Jesus Christ."
"The real numbers would have killed the deal. Falkirk's board was already skeptical—if they'd seen the actual projections, they would have walked. Damien made a call."
"The actual projections?" she balked.
I winced.
"He presented falsified numbers to Falkirk's board to gain their approval of Elion's contract and secure the continuation of the merger."
She shoved from her desk, glaring down at me. "You can't be fucking serious."
"He committed fraud, Emma. He lied to his own board. He used Davidson as a scapegoat to cover up—" she stopped, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Does anyone else know?"
"Nathan suspects. He's been pushing on the discrepancies for weeks. Every mentorship session, he circles back to it. He doesn't have proof, but he knows something's off."
Jennifer spun around. "Nathan Bell has been sniffing around falsified audit documents, and you didn't think to mention this sooner?"
"I couldn't tell you without telling you everything else. And I wasn't—" I stopped, swallowing hard. "I wasn't ready."
"Ready." She laughed—no humor. "Emma, I've spent months thinking I was losing my mind. I looked at those leaked documents and Iknewthey were real. But everyone kept saying they were doctored, and I started wondering if I'd missed something, if I'd made a mistake, if I was—" She broke off, eyes shining. "You let mefeel crazy."
"I'm sorry."
A tear traced down one of her cheeks. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.
"I should have told you," I continued. "From the beginning. You deserved better than what I gave you, and I was too scared to—" The admission tore from deep inside me, my eyes blurred, a single tear falling onto my skirt. Soaking into the fabric.
The words hung in the air between us.
"Tell me about him," she said quietly.
I blinked. "What?"
"Damien. The real him." A hint of softness in her voice now. "Not the CEO. Him."
"He's amazing," I admitted, lowering my gaze, surprised to see the wet tear mark from earlier already drying. "He's kind. And sweet. And funny."
Jennifer made a skeptical sound.
"I know how it sounds." I shook my head. "Damien Holt, sweet. But he is. He remembers everything I've ever told him—every throwaway comment, every small thing I mentioned in passing months ago. My favorite takeout order. What kind of soap I like." A small smile curved my lips. "He pays attention in a way no one ever has."
"And when I have a bad day—a really bad day, when my brain won't stop and everything feels too sharp—he talks me through the worst of it without making me feel broken." My voice cracked slightly. "Do you know how rare that is? Someone who doesn't flinch when you show them the ugly parts?"
I laughed softly. "He eats cereal at midnight and argues with me about which Die Hard is the best one and gets genuinely excited about terrible reality TV. He's not—" I paused, voice dropping. "He's not the person everyone thinks he is. The cold CEO, the corporate shark. That's the mask. Underneath, he's just... a man who's terrified of losing the people heloves."
"And he loves you?"
"He hasn't said it yet," I admitted, the smile fading. "Not out loud. But I feel it. In everything he does." I finally looked up, meeting her eyes. "I know this looks insane from the outside. I know the circumstances are a disaster. But Jennifer—when I'm with him, I feel like myself. The real me. Not the version I perform for everyone else."
Jennifer studied me, her expression thawing by the second.
"So what now?" Jennifer asked. "What's the plan?"
