Chapter 12 - The Zurich Summit
High above the clouds, bathed in the soft ambient lighting of a customized Gulfstream G650, I swirled a glass of vintage Dom Pérignon. Across the aisle, Alexander Vance was reviewing financial statements on a sleek tablet, though his attention kept drifting back to me.
"You've been quiet for the last hour," Alexander observed, setting his tablet down. "Thinking about him?"
I let out a soft sigh, looking out the reinforced window at the endless expanse of white clouds below. "Not pity, if that's what you're wondering. Just... disbelief. I spent nine years believing that if I loved him hard enough, if I supported him fiercely enough, he would become a genuinely good man."
"Some people aren't built to handle being elevated," Alexander said quietly, his gray eyes softening. "They mistake kindness for weakness, and they mistake the scaffolding for the building."
I turned my head to look at him, a faint smile touching my lips. "You always have a way of putting things into perspective, Alexander."
"It comes from years of watching predators dress up as princes," he replied, shifting closer. The subtle scent of his cedar-and-bergamot cologne filled the cabin, wrapping around me like a shield. "Julian wanted a trophy wife to validate his ego, and he wanted an empire he didn't have to earn. He got what he deserved."
"And now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. "What does the board want from this European expansion?"
"They want total domination," Alexander said, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned in closer, his gaze locking onto mine. "And more importantly... they want to know when the new CEO is going to stop working twenty-hour days and let me take her out for a proper dinner in Geneva."
My breath caught slightly. For nine years, my life had been governed by spreadsheets, board meetings, and managing Julian's fragile ego in the shadows. I had forgotten what it felt like to be looked at not as an asset, not as an owner, but as a woman.
"Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Vance?" I asked, a challenge dancing in my eyes.
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"I'm formally requesting an executive session," Alexander murmured, his hand coming to rest lightly over mine on the cashmere blanket. "No lawyers, no board members, and absolutely no corporate takeovers."
I didn't pull my hand away. Instead, I let my fingers interlock with his. "Approved."
