Page 157 of Falling for the Enemy

“Dick.”

CHAPTER 18

“YOU FEEL YOUR DREAMS ARE DYING…HOLD TIGHT”

Soren drew the curtains shut and the office collapsed into shadows, a confessional insulated from the October light beyond. It had been four days since his episode, and he’d spent every second of that time thinking about what he actually wanted and prioritizing his goals in life.

Today was the first step in a long line of steps that would bring him closer to his end goal.

His body moved in a metronome-like rhythm, mind focused, breath controlled, each pace deliberate. He’d done as the EMT suggested and looked up breath work on YouTube. Now, his body naturally followed those patterns whenever he felt the slightest tremor of tension.

In, hold, exhale.

The words of his memorized speech burned through his brain as he silently mouthed each statement with practiced cadence, while also following the breath routine.

A soft knock fractured his concentration. He glanced at the clock. Marie knew better than to interrupt before it was time, which meant the knock could only be his brothers.

“Come in.”

Greyson and Logan crossed the threshold, rolling into the space like an undertow. A sense of ease settled over Soren at the sight of them.

“Ready?” Greyson’s voice held the sturdiness of an oak.

Soren glanced at Logan, and their gazes locked as his youngest brother gave a confident nod.

“I’m ready.”

“No change of heart?” Greyson asked.

Soren shook his head. He’d thought long and hard about where he stood and knew what he wanted for their company moving forward. “No change of heart. Let’s do this.”

Right on cue, Marie knocked. “Sir, it’s time.”

The three men moved through the corridor with militant coordination, power in motion. Employees flattened themselves against the walls with instinctive deference. Three brothers, carved from the same ruthless lineage, bound by blood, locked in loyalty, yet each one uniquely different in their own way.

The boardroom doors opened inward. The ten seated members lifted their eyes in unison, posture snapping to attention as the air shifted.

“Good afternoon,” Soren greeted, taking his seat at the head of the table. Murmured responses followed, getting the pleasantries out of the way first.

The windows framed the harbor beyond. Grey water, pale sky, and the amber glow of the trees holding on to their past as they faced the inevitable peak of fall.

Greyson settled to Soren’s right. Logan took the left.

“Thank you, all, for making time for this vote,” Soren began, his voice steady and sharp as a blade. “Today’s decision will reshape our company. Each of your futures will benefit from the decisions made today. Everything we’ve built at Hawthorne Fishery, we’ve built together, through profound research, strategy, and the transparent promise to dominate the lead of an industry valued all over the world.”

He leaned forward, and the light caught the face of his watch as he folded his hands casually.

“Moving ahead, we’re going to see some changes to the way we’ve always done business.” Others leaned in when he lowered his voice to ensure he had everyone’s full attention. “In an era so entrenched in artificial intelligence and limitless information, it’s never been more important to work with those you trust. Which is why I’ve decided to withdraw the offer to Aldrich Shipping immediately.”

Warren Aldrich’s hand froze mid-reach for his water glass. A frisson of tension traveled across his face. “I beg your pardon?”

Soren calmly fanned out his fingers, flashing Warren his palm. “Please hold all commentary. Each of you will have the opportunity to speak before the vote.”

Color drained from beneath Warren’s collar. His aged fingers curled inward, balling into a fist.

“Instead,” Soren continued, his voice carrying the weight of absolute confidence, “I move to partner with NorthStar Shipping.”

The room exhaled with a ripple of motion as portfolios opened.