Chapter 5 Chaos Is My Happy Place
Courtney’s POV
The quiet of my apartment felt unfamiliar. Too still. Too normal. After a day of boardroom tension, market dips, and strategic chess moves, the soft hum of my refrigerator and the distant traffic below almost felt unreal. I kicked off my heels the second the door shut behind me. They landed somewhere near the entryway. I didn’t care. I walked straight to the living room and dropped onto the sofa face-first, groaning into a pillow.
Today had been sharp. Controlled on the surface. Brutal underneath. My phone buzzed beside my head. I ignored it. It buzzed again. And again. With a sigh, I rolled onto my back and reached for it. It was Anna.
I smiled before answering.
“Hey.”
Her face filled the screen almost instantly — soft curls framing her face, concern written plainly across her expression.
“Okay,” she said without preamble. “How are you really?”
I laughed quietly. “You don’t waste time.”
“Nope. Marcus got Damian’s composed version. I want yours.”
I shifted, sitting up and tucking my legs beneath me.
“I’m fine.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“That sounded like a press statement.”
I rolled mine affectionately.
“I’m tired,” I corrected. “But I’m fine.”
Anna studied me the way only a best friend can — like she could see the micro-expressions beneath the calm.
“Are you happy?” she asked suddenly.
The question caught me off guard.
“With what?”
“With working PR alongside Damian,” she clarified. “With being in the middle of this.”
There it was. Not doubt. Concern. She’d been there once — standing beside Marcus when everything collapsed around him. When headlines weren’t just corporate — they were life-altering.
“I need you to answer honestly,” she said softly.
I leaned back against the couch and exhaled.
“I am one hundred percent sure,” I said carefully, “that the decisions I made — professionally and personally — were the right ones.”
She watched me closely.
“No hesitation?”
“None.”
The corner of her mouth curved slightly.
“Okay. Good.”
I smiled faintly.
“You thought I was drowning.”
“I thought maybe you were sacrificing,” she corrected gently.
“For him?”
“For love.”
I let that sit for a moment.
“I’m not sacrificing,” I said quietly. “I’m choosing.”
There was a difference. A huge one.
“I wanted to build something that mattered,” I continued. “PR isn’t just damage control. It’s narrative architecture. It’s shaping perception. It’s protecting integrity.”
“And you get to do that with him,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Does that complicate things?”
“Of course.”
Anna laughed softly. “That’s the understatement of the year.”
I grinned.
“But complicated doesn’t mean wrong.”
Silence settled between us, comfortable and familiar.
“I remember what it was like,” Anna said gently. “Standing beside Marcus when everything felt like it was collapsing. Wanting to protect him. Wanting to fix it. Wanting to carry half the weight even when he tried to push me away from it.”
I nodded slowly.
“Damian’s doing that,” I admitted.
“Trying to protect you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“By minimizing the risk. By filtering what I see. By stepping in front of the fallout before it reaches me.”
Anna’s expression softened knowingly.
“That’s very McKay of him.”
I huffed a quiet laugh.
“Extremely.”
“But?” she prompted.
“But I don’t want shielding,” I said firmly. “I want partnership.”
“And does he understand that?”
“He’s learning.”
Anna smiled at that.
“You love him.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
The word felt steady. Solid.
“And you want to be there for him the way I was there for Marcus,” she added.
“Yes.”
That part mattered more than I’d realized until now. I thought back to the worst of Marcus’s recovery. To Anna’s unwavering presence. Her refusal to be sidelined. Her quiet strength when everyone else panicked.
“I watched you,” I admitted. “How you handled it. How you didn’t let him spiral. How you stood your ground without making it about you.”
Anna blinked.
“You were paying attention?”
“Of course I was.”
She smiled softly.
“You don’t have to be me, Court.”
“I know,” I said. “But I learned something from you.”
“What’s that?”
“That loving someone powerful doesn’t mean shrinking. It means standing steady.”
She grew quiet at that.
“You are steady,” she said finally.
“I know.”
And I did. That was the difference between this year and last. I wasn’t intimidated by the empire. I wasn’t dazzled by the power. I saw the machinery. I understood the politics. And I chose to step into it. Anna hesitated.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Then let’s talk about the real thing.”
I smirked.
“Felicia?”
Anna’s eyes widened slightly.
“So it’s true.”
“Yes.”
Ardent Global wasn’t faceless. It had a name. Felicia Ardent. Calculated. Elegant. Strategic. And very intentional about the narrative she curated.
“She’s brilliant,” Anna said cautiously.
“She is,” I agreed.
“And ruthless.”
“Absolutely.”
“And she’s coming for Damian.”
“She’s coming for the perception of him. She thinks he's a young CEO trying to earn his father's respect,” I corrected.
Anna studied me carefully.
“Are you ready for that?”
“Yes.”
“Courtney.”
“I’m not naïve,” I said calmly. “I know this isn’t just corporate maneuvering. It’s personal positioning. She wants to frame him as impulsive. Young. Dangerous.”
“And you?”
“I want to dismantle that narrative before it roots.”
Anna leaned closer to her screen.
“And if she comes for you?”
I didn’t hesitate.
“Then she’ll regret it.”
Anna blinked. There it was. Not anger. Not bravado. Certainty.
“She might,” Anna said carefully, “try to isolate you. Paint you as conflict of interest. As distraction.”
“She already has.”
“And?”
“And I won’t react emotionally.”
Anna’s brow lifted.
“You sound like Damian.”
“I sound like someone who understands optics.”
She laughed softly.
“That’s terrifying.”
“Good.”
Silence fell again — but this time it was charged.
“I know he wants to protect you,” Anna said gently.
“He does.”
“And?”
“And I know I’m ready.”
Ready to take on Felicia Ardent. Ready to stand in boardrooms where my loyalty would be questioned. Ready to be dissected by media analysts who thought they understood my motivations.
Ready to fight strategically instead of defensively.
“I’m not stepping into this blindly,” I said. “I know what she’s capable of. But she doesn’t know me.”
Anna’s eyes glinted slightly.
“That’s true.”
“Felicia Ardent built her reputation on elegance and control,” I continued. “She expects emotion from younger rivals. Rash decisions. Overcorrections.”
“And you’re not giving her that.”
“No.”
“What are you giving her?”
I smiled faintly.
“Patience.”
Anna exhaled softly.
“You really are sure.”
“Yes.”
About him. About my career. About this path.
“I’m not following Damian,” I said quietly. “I’m building with him.”
Anna’s expression softened.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Don’t get sentimental,” I teased lightly.
“Too late.”
We talked a little longer — about Germany, about Marcus’s excitement, about missing each other. When we finally hung up, the apartment felt less silent. I sat there for a moment, phone resting in my hand. Outside, the city lights flickered. Somewhere across town, Damian was likely still in his office, analyzing numbers, mapping strategy.
He would try to carry the heaviest pieces himself. He always did. But he wasn’t alone. And neither was I.
Felicia Ardent might believe she was orchestrating a slow unraveling. She might believe pressure would fracture loyalty. She might believe youth equals weakness. She was wrong. Because I wasn’t here by accident. I wasn’t here by attachment. I was here by choice. And if she thought she could intimidate me into retreat— She was about to discover that I was very comfortable
standing in the fire.