Chapter 20: Not alone

James leaned back in the leather chair of his home office, the large screen in front of him split into three video feeds—each filled with a different project manager from the D.A.R.E. initiative. It was supposed to be a simple midweek update, a quick check-in. But as the managers walked him through their progress reports, timelines, and supply chain milestones, a pattern emerged. One he hadn’t expected.

“...and honestly,” Susan was saying, flipping through a color-coded dashboard on her end, “if we hadn’t had her groundwork, we would’ve needed three separate people overseeing this rollout. Every product line, every supplier, every compliance file—it was all there. The structure she left behind is airtight. I don’t know how she managed to do it all solo.”

James didn’t respond at first. He just stared at the screen, jaw ticking as his thoughts spiraled.

He’d known she was good. Brilliant, even. But hearing it laid out so clinically—so irrefutably—hit different. While most startups scrambled to scale, she’d built an empire with a fraction of the resources and zero complaints. She’d managed seven cafes, a national expansion, and mass production logistics... all while staying under the radar, like it was just part of her daily grind.

And she’d done it alone.

Susan kept going, unaware of the silence on James’s end. “We’re maintaining the systems she set up, but we’re already pushing capacity. This isn’t a one-woman job, James. It never should’ve been.”

He ran a hand through his hair and finally nodded. “Thanks, Susan. I’ll take it from here.”

The call ended, but James didn’t move. He sat in the quiet hum of his office, Susan’s words echoing in his head. It reframed everything. Her stubbornness. Her refusal to stay down. Even her bratty resistance the last couple of weeks.

She wasn’t reckless. She was relentless. Because that’s how she’d survived building all this.

No wonder she’d fought them so hard about being benched. Sitting still didn’t exist in her vocabulary.

He hadn’t seen her since Monday morning—when she’d snuck out before sunrise, and he’d found her dripping from the hot tub and strolling into the sauna like her body hadn’t been carved open just two weeks prior. That incident had kept him away, intentionally. He needed space. Time to cool the edge of his temper and recalibrate his approach. Coming at her like a Dom wasn’t going to work, no matter how much her body responded.

She wasn’t his—not yet. And until she chose that, his desire to protect her had to work in tandem with respecting her. Truly respecting her.

By Wednesday night, he arrived early at the dojo and found a place near the back wall—not his usual spot. He didn’t want to be the center of attention. He wanted to watch.

When Kai stepped into line with the other black belts, his heart thudded. She wore her gi loose, her movements careful but not hesitant. Marty must have already had words with her, because the moment the class shifted into drills, Kai shifted out. She moved into tai chi instead of the high-impact sequences. Every movement was graceful, controlled—powerful in its restraint.

She’s trying, James thought. She’s listening.

And damn if that didn’t stir something deep in his gut. Not just desire. Admiration.

After class, he lingered by the vending machine, pretending to scroll through his phone as the students dispersed. When she exited the change rooms—her damp hair twisted into a bun, gi replaced with leggings and a hoodie—their eyes met.

She froze. Just like he knew she would.

“Kai.” His voice was calm. Firm. But not a command.

She sighed, wary but not bristling. “You stalking me now?”

He gave her a look. “I came to train. I stayed to talk.”

She shifted her gym bag higher on her shoulder. “If you’re here to yell at me again, I’ll save you the trouble. I didn’t overdo it. Ask Marty.”

“I already did.” He stepped closer, but not enough to corner her. “You were careful. Controlled. I’m proud of you.”

That stopped her. Her gaze flicked to his, surprised.

“I also had a meeting this morning,” he added, softer. “With the project managers.”

Kai stiffened.

“They told me everything. How much you built. What you left in place when you stepped back. They were... impressed. Honestly, so was I.”

Her throat worked around a silent swallow. “It’s just work.”

“No. It’s a legacy.” He met her gaze. “And maybe I didn’t give you enough credit before. I’m sorry for that.”

For the first time in days, her shoulders lowered. Not relaxed exactly, but no longer locked in battle stance. She stared at him for a long beat, eyes searching his face like she wasn’t sure which version of him she’d get next—the overprotective bulldozer or the man who saw her clearly, maybe for the first time.

“I don’t want to clip your wings, Kai,” he said, his voice low and steady, “but I also don’t want to watch you crash and burn just because you refuse to let anyone catch you.”

Her breath caught. Not from offense. Not even surprise. But something softer. Like a thread had just pulled loose inside her and she was afraid of what might unravel next.

Before she could speak, James took a careful step forward. Not dominating. Not pressing. Just... near. Close enough that she had to tilt her chin slightly to meet his gaze.

“I want to talk,” he added, quieter now. “Not tonight. Next week. Business only.”

Her brows furrowed in hesitation.

“I want to move the three project managers under your full control,” he explained. “They’ll still be on my payroll, but their loyalty—and reporting—will be to you. I think they should’ve been yours from the beginning.” He paused. “You built something impossible, Kai. It’s time you had the team to match.”

Emotion flickered across her face, fast and raw. She masked it quickly, but not fast enough to hide it from him. There was pride there. Surprise. Maybe even... relief.

When she didn’t answer, he reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers ghosting along the curve of her cheek, then trailing down the side of her neck—not quite a touch, but enough to steal her breath. The restraint in that motion made her chest tighten. Every nerve lit up under his hovering presence.

Then, quieter: “The meeting—I’ll schedule it next week. I want to discuss allocating more resources to your team. Permanently. Full-time project managers, suppliers, distributors... access to a marketing strategist.”

She blinked—startled not just by the proposal, but by the gentle way he’d offered it. No pressure. No dominance. Just support. Steady. Grounded.

“Okay,” she said, voice calm. “I’ll take that meeting. Next week.”

James arched a brow slightly, surprised by how easily she agreed.

“I’m still not back at work,” she added quickly, leveling her gaze. “But I can make time for that.”

There it was—the shift. A subtle but undeniable acceptance that she was on leave. That she wasn’t fighting to jump right back into the fray. Not because she was giving up, but because she was choosing to heal. On her own terms.

His eyes softened. Just a little. And then he nodded, slowly.

“Next week,” he echoed. And then, “Kai?”

She had started to look down again but quickly raised her face to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, voice low and thick with meaning. “You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

She swallowed. Hard.

He didn’t say another word. Just turned and walked away—leaving her standing in the quiet space he’d carved open with a few words, a ghost of a touch, and a promise that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to carry it all alone anymore.