Page 31 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

A chorus of acknowledgments answers from the other end of the line.

"The revised timeline still works?" I ask.

"It does," one of the executives replies.

"We'll have the updated draft on your desk before close of business."

"Good. Keep me informed if anything changes before Monday," I say.

"It will," he says.

"If that's everything, we'll reconvene Monday," I say.

The call ends, and I set my phone on the desk. Silence settles over my office. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of the forty-fourth floor, Manhattan stretches in every direction. The city is always moving, always reminding everyone beneath it that there is somewhere else to be. I stopped finding the view impressive years ago.

I lean back for a moment, rubbing a thumb along the edge of the leather portfolio sitting open in front of me. Three acquisition proposals. Two investor updates. A stack of briefing notes Daniel left less than an hour ago, each tabbed with the precision I've come to expect from him. A soft knock sounds against the open door. Daniel steps inside carrying a tablet.

"You wanted to review next week's schedule," he says.

"I did," I say.

He crosses the room and places the tablet in front of me before taking his usual position across the desk.

"Zurich confirmed for Thursday morning," he says.

"The Tokyo delegation requested an additional hour Wednesday afternoon. I tentatively accepted."

"That's fine," I say.

He makes the note without looking up.

"The investor dinner?" he asks.

"Push it," I say.

"By?" he asks.

"Two weeks," I say.

Another note.

"The foundation luncheon?" he asks.

"I'll still attend," I say.

He scrolls down the calendar.

"You'll need to leave Wednesday afternoon if you're planning to arrive in Boston Thursday evening," he says.

I study the screen for another second before shaking my head.

"No," I say.

Daniel looks up.

"I want to leave Tuesday," I say.

His expression doesn't change, but after working together for nearly twelve years, I recognize the almost imperceptible pause.