Harrison's POV
Harrison sat in his office at two in the morning unable to move.
Eleanor's words kept echoing. You made me choose. And I chose myself.
He replayed the hallway conversation over and over like he could somehow rewrite it. Change what he'd said. Change what he'd done. But it was too late for any of that. She'd already decided. She'd already chosen to leave him two years ago and now she was just finishing the job.
He picked up his phone to call her.
Put it down.
Picked it up again.
Put it down harder this time.
What would he even say? That she was right? That he'd been wrong about everything? That he'd demanded she be hard and now that she was hard, it was destroying him to watch her do it without him?
He picked up the phone a third time.
His finger hovered over her contact. He could call. It was two in the morning but she was probably still awake. Probably still in the building somewhere working late like she always did. Probably wouldn't answer but at least he could try.
He put the phone down.
Instead, he opened his laptop and pulled up Eleanor's restructuring recommendations.
He'd been avoiding them. Reviewing them only enough to find flaws. Looking for places where her ideas wouldn't work. Building a case for why his way was better. But now he looked at them differently. Looked at them like they mattered. Like they were brilliant.
Because they were.
Eleanor had analyzed his company with surgical precision and understood exactly what was killing it from the inside. Not the strategy. Not the vision. The culture. The fear. The way he'd built an entire organization on the same broken foundation he'd used to destroy their marriage.
Harrison read through the first proposal. Mentorship programs. He'd always thought that was soft. A waste of resources. Now he understood. If people had someone guiding them, they wouldn't be so afraid to take risks.
He approved it.
The second proposal was about flexible working hours. He'd dismissed it immediately as weakness. But reading Eleanor's analysis, he saw what she saw. People worked better when they weren't exhausted. Creativity flowed when people had time to think about things outside of work.
He approved it.
By three in the morning, he was deep in her recommendations. By four, he understood why she'd come back. Not to destroy him. To save what he'd built. To prove that his way wasn't the only way. To show him that strength and softness could exist in the same space.
By five, he'd approved every single proposal.
Not because he understood them all. But because he understood her. And she was right about everything.
Harrison sat back in his chair as the sun started rising over London. His hands were shaking. His chest felt like it was caving in. He'd spent two years telling himself he was right to push her away. Two years convincing himself that their marriage ended because she was too soft for his world.
But the truth was worse.
The truth was that she was the strongest person he'd ever met. And he'd been too broken to see it. Too scared. Too damaged by his father's death to trust that loving her was anything except weakness.
He sent her an email at six in the morning.
Just one line: "You were right about everything. All proposals approved."
Then he waited.
He didn't expect a response. Didn't deserve one. He just needed her to know that he understood. That he was finally seeing what she'd been trying to show him all along.
By seven, she hadn't responded.
By eight, the sun was fully up and his phone started ringing. Unknown number. Harrison almost didn't answer but something made him pick up.
"Mr. Blake?" A man's voice. Professional. Calm. Dangerous. "This is Detective James from London Metropolitan Police. I need to ask you some questions about Marcus Wells. Are you available to meet with me today?"
Harrison's stomach dropped.
"What happened to Marcus?" he asked.
"We're still determining that. But we found evidence at the scene that suggests you may have been involved. We need to clarify your whereabouts last night."
The line went dead before Harrison could respond.
He sat holding the phone, trying to understand what was happening. Marcus attacked. By Sebastian. And now the police thought he might be involved. That made no sense unless someone had put his name in the middle of this.
Unless Eleanor thought he had something to do with it.
Harrison grabbed his jacket and headed for the elevator. He needed to find her. Needed to explain. Needed to prove he had nothing to do with whatever had happened to her brother.
The elevator doors opened on Eleanor's floor.
She was standing there waiting for him like she'd known he would come. Her face was completely closed off. Professional. Dangerous.
"The police are accusing me of involvement in Marcus's attack," she said quietly. "They say evidence places you near his office building. They're building a case that suggests you did it. And I need to know right now, before we go any further, if you're the person I think you are or if everything I've seen from you is just another lie."
Harrison felt his entire world collapse.
"Eleanor, I didn't do this. I swear—"
"Save it," she cut him off. Her voice was ice. "Because I just got another email. From the person who's been sending them to me this whole time. And they told me something that changes everything."
She pulled out her phone and showed him the message.
The email read: "Harrison Blake didn't attack Marcus Wells. But someone close to both of them did. Someone who wanted to frame Harrison. Someone who wanted Eleanor to turn away from him completely. Someone who's been orchestrating this entire situation from the beginning. And that person is about to walk through the doors of Blake Dynamics in exactly three minutes."
The elevator doors behind them opened.
Sebastian Cross walked out with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
And he was holding a gun.