Chapter 74 Fractured Light
Briar's POV
Owen knocked on my office door at three-thirty, carrying a tablet with the revised marketing proposal for the Lunar Stabilizer launch. I waved him in, grateful for the distraction from the financial statements I had been staring at all afternoon.
He set the tablet on my desk, and I scrolled through the proposal. The campaign centered around the "Moonlight Series" branding, emphasizing the product's natural origins and transformative effects. I approved it with a few minor notes and sent it back to him.
"Good work," I said. "Get this to the design team and coordinate with Chloe on the packaging visuals. We need those finalized by Friday."
Owen nodded, but his expression shifted. "Actually, Chloe hasn't sent over the design drafts yet. I messaged her this morning, but she hasn't responded."
I frowned and pulled up my phone. The last message I had sent her was from yesterday afternoon. It showed as delivered but not read. I typed out another message and hit send. The same thing happened.
A faint unease settled in my chest, but I pushed it aside. "Keep an eye on it," I told Owen. "If she doesn't respond by tonight, let me know."
At four o'clock, two representatives from Pinnacle Capital arrived for their due diligence meeting. They were both older men, sharp-eyed and methodical, and they wasted no time diving into Vance Botanicals' financial health. We moved to the conference room, where I had prepared documents outlining our revenue streams, asset valuations, and projected growth.
The meeting started smoothly. They asked standard questions about operating margins, cash flow cycles, and debt obligations, and I answered each one with precision. But then one of them, a man named Harrison with silver hair and a cold gaze, leaned forward and tapped a line on the financial summary.
"Ms. Vance, I'd like to clarify something regarding your transaction history. Over the past eighteen months, you've had several large-scale orders facilitated by Sterling Pharmaceuticals. Can you walk us through the nature of those deals?"
I kept my expression neutral, though my pulse quickened. "Those were standard B2B transactions. Sterling Pharmaceuticals has been a strategic partner in our distribution network."
Harrison nodded slowly. "And these transactions were brokered through Julian Sterling personally, correct?"
"Yes," I said carefully. "Mr. Sterling has been instrumental in connecting us with key clients in the pharmaceutical sector."
The other representative, Carter, flipped through a file. "We've also noted a significant equity financing round approximately a year ago, with Sterling Pharmaceuticals as the lead investor. That investment coincided with a sharp uptick in your revenue from their referred clients."
I forced myself to stay calm. "That's correct. The equity financing allowed us to scale our production capacity."
Harrison's tone was carefully neutral. "Ms. Vance, I'm sure you understand that from our perspective, these transactions raise potential concerns about related-party dealings. If there's any indication that these orders were structured to inflate your revenue artificially, it could complicate our investment decision."
The words hit me like a cold wave, but I kept my voice steady. "I appreciate your diligence, Mr. Harrison. However, if you have concerns about compliance, I'll instruct our financial and audit departments to conduct a thorough review of those orders immediately."
Harrison nodded, and the meeting continued. But by the time they left, my hands were trembling slightly as I closed the conference room door.
Julian's influence in my company ran deeper than I had realized.
By six o'clock, Chloe still hadn't responded. I tried calling her twice, but both calls went straight to voicemail. I grabbed my coat and drove straight to her apartment.
When I reached her door, I knocked twice before hearing slow, uneven footsteps. The door opened, and my breath caught. Chloe looked like she hadn't slept in days. Her hair was tangled, her eyes red and swollen, and she was wearing an oversized sweater. The apartment behind her was dark, curtains drawn, and the faint smell of alcohol drifted out.
"Briar," she said hoarsely, stepping aside to let me in.
The living room was a mess. Empty wine bottles scattered across the carpet, takeout containers piled on the coffee table.
"Chloe," I said softly. "What happened?"
She closed the door and leaned against it. "I'm sorry about the designs. I just... I couldn't focus."
"Forget the designs. Are you okay?"
She let out a bitter laugh. "No. I'm not okay."
I guided her to the couch, and she sank down heavily. After a moment, she stood and walked to a desk in the corner, pulling out a folder of sketches. She handed it to me without meeting my eyes.
There were ten designs. The first few were bright and hopeful, depicting a lush green island bathed in moonlight. But as I flipped through the pages, the tone shifted dramatically. The island became barren, the moonlight swallowed by dark clouds. The final design showed a small figure standing alone in ruins, reaching up and tearing through the darkness as golden sunlight broke through.
I looked up at Chloe. She was crying.
"Chloe," I said gently. "What happened?"
She wiped her eyes. "Julian and I... the engagement is off."
I stared at her, stunned. "What? When?"
"That night. After dinner. You probably heard the argument." She took a shaky breath. "After you all left, he drove me home and said terrible things. He told me I was delusional if I thought he would ever love me. That I was nothing more than a political arrangement. I couldn't take it anymore."
I reached out and squeezed her hand. "Chloe, I'm so sorry."
She shook her head, fresh tears spilling over. "I've loved him for years, Briar. Even when I knew he didn't feel the same way. I kept hoping he would see me. But he never did."
"There's more," she said quietly. "My sister Willow said she'll take my place. She told our parents she's willing to marry Julian instead of me to keep the alliance intact."
I blinked. "What?"
"I broke down in front of my parents, begged them to let me out. Willow was there, and she just stepped in." Chloe's voice filled with guilt. "She's always protected me. But I never knew she had feelings for him too."
I pulled her into a hug. "You don't have to feel guilty. You didn't ask for any of it."
After a while, Chloe pulled back and wiped her eyes. "I just want to eat a huge pile of junk food and forget everything."
I pulled out my phone and messaged Owen.
Twenty minutes later, Owen arrived carrying two massive bags of snacks. He burst in with his usual energy, grinning as he set them on the coffee table.
"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I bought everything," he announced.
Chloe laughed, a real laugh this time.
Owen plopped down beside her. "Any guy who doesn't appreciate you is an idiot. You're gorgeous, talented, and way too good for him."
While they talked, I tidied the apartment and ordered food delivery for Chloe. By the time I finished, Owen had convinced her to watch anime, and they were sharing popcorn on the couch.
I crouched in front of Chloe with the folder. "These are incredible. I'm going to use them."
She looked up, her eyes clearer now. "Thank you, Briar."
I photographed each design and sent them to my email.
At the door, Owen grinned at Chloe. "If you need a distraction, just text me. I'm available 24/7 on non-work days."
Chloe smiled. "I might take you up on that."
Owen and I stepped into the hallway. At the elevator, he turned to me sheepishly. "Can you walk me down? There's a dog that hangs around the building, and I'm scared of dogs."
I laughed despite myself. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious."
I pressed the elevator button. The doors opened, and we stepped inside. Before they could close, they opened again.
Willow stepped in.
She was dressed in a tailored cream coat, her expression calm and composed. Her eyes met mine, and I felt a strange sensation, like she was looking straight through me.
She nodded. "Ms. Vance."
"Ms. Davenport," I replied.
The elevator descended in silence. When the doors opened on Chloe's floor, Willow stepped out without another word.
Owen and I reached the ground floor. Sure enough, a small dog lounged near the entrance. Owen grabbed my arm, and we hurried past toward the parking lot. I walked him to his car, and he climbed in quickly, waving before driving off.
I stood there for a moment, then turned to head back.
That was when I heard it. The low rumble of an engine behind me. I turned, and headlights flared to life, sweeping across my legs. A sleek black car rolled forward, stopping just inches from where I stood.
The window rolled down, revealing James, Julian's assistant and driver.
"Ms. Vance," he said, his voice flat and detached.