Chapter 95
Lena's POV
Two hours later, Sophia knocked twice before entering, her expression carrying a mix of triumph and uncertainty.
"I found something." She set her tablet on my desk, pulling up a transaction record. "One of the holding companies has a legal consultant listed in their incorporation documents. Colin Summers."
The name hit like a stone dropping into still water, ripples spreading outward.
Colin Summers. Rowan's childhood friend.
My breath came steady, controlled, even as pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity.
Colin had no reason to target Nexus Investment. No business connection, no personal grudge, no strategic interest in a failing company that offered minimal return on investment.
Unless he was acting for someone else.
Unless someone had asked him to orchestrate this acquisition.
I closed my eyes briefly, seeing Rowan's face the last time we'd spoken—that carefully neutral expression that hid everything he was thinking.
"Lena?" Sophia's voice carried concern. "Should I keep digging?"
"No." I opened my eyes, forcing my voice steady. "That's enough. Thank you."
After she left, I sat in the silence, staring at Colin's name on the screen.
Why would Rowan do this?
We were divorced. The contract had ended, the obligations fulfilled, the ties severed. He'd made it clear during our marriage that emotional entanglement wasn't part of our arrangement. He'd kept his distance, maintained boundaries, treated me with polite civility that never crossed into genuine intimacy.
So why intervene now? Why spend what must have been tens of millions of dollars to acquire a failing company?
I pulled up the acquisition terms again, reading them with new understanding. Vivian retained her CEO title but lost all decision-making authority. The debt was restructured to prevent bankruptcy but left her with no control over company direction. Board members had been convinced to support new management.
It was a perfect cage. Gilded, dignified, designed to neutralize without destroying.
And objectively—I forced myself to acknowledge the cold logic—it solved my problem. Without Nexus as a bargaining chip, Vivian couldn't pressure me into arranged marriages. The leverage that had controlled my life for so many years simply... evaporated.
But I didn't ask for this.
The thought settled heavy in my chest. Whatever Rowan's intentions, I don't want to owe him anything.
I closed the laptop and stood, moving to the window. The city sprawled below, ordinary and indifferent.
My phone buzzed. Emily's text: Your mother has been calling me nonstop. What's happening?
I typed back: Nexus was acquired. Tell her I'm unavailable.
Then I muted my phone and returned to my desk, because there was work to finish and emotional processing could wait until I wasn't sitting in an office where anyone might walk in and ask if I was alright.
---
Vivian arrived at three-thirty.
Rachel's warning came through my office line: "Your mother is in the lobby. Security can't—she's coming up."
I had thirty seconds to compose myself before my office door opened without a knock.
Vivian looked immaculate—tailored suit, perfect makeup, posture rigid with fury barely contained. But her eyes carried something I'd never seen before. Panic.
"You did this." Her voice came low, dangerous. "Don't pretend you didn't."
I stood, moving around my desk to create distance, to position myself near the door if this conversation deteriorated further. "I had nothing to do with Nexus's acquisition."
"Liar." She stepped closer, hand clutching her purse like a lifeline. "You've been planning this for months. Working with Rowan Reynolds, using your marriage connections—"
"My marriage ended." The words came cold. "Whatever happened to Nexus has nothing to do with me."
"Then explain how the board voted unanimously for an acquisition that strips me of all authority!" Her voice rose, composure fracturing. "Explain how creditors I've worked with for years suddenly demanded repayment! Explain how I went from managing a company my family built to being a figurehead in my own office!"
I met her gaze steadily. "Perhaps you should ask Marcus. Or ask yourself why the board preferred outside management to your leadership."
Her hand moved before I could react—a sharp crack as her palm connected with my cheek.
The sting registered distantly. I didn't move, didn't raise my hand to the mark that would bloom red against my skin. Just stood there, watching my mother's face crumple from rage into something worse.
"I have nothing left," she whispered. "Thirty years I spent building that company back from near bankruptcy, fighting Marcus for every share of control, and you—you took it all away."
"I didn't take anything from you." My voice remained level despite the burning in my cheek. "You lost Nexus because you treated it like a weapon instead of a business. Because you tried to use it to control your daughter's life. Because you drove away every ally you had."
"You think you've won." Vivian's laugh came harsh, brittle. "You think removing Nexus means you're free. But Marcus still has leverage. Documents, recordings, evidence that could destroy your reputation, your practice, everything you've built. And he won't hesitate to use it."
She turned toward the door, then paused, looking back with something that might have been grief or hatred or some toxic combination of both.
"You'll regret this, Lena. When Marcus makes his move, when everything falls apart, you'll wish you'd accepted Gerald Johnson's proposal and saved us all."
The door closed behind her with controlled precision—a final gesture of dignity from a woman whose power had just been methodically dismantled.
I stood alone in my office, hand finally rising to touch my stinging cheek. Through the window, the afternoon light painted the city in harsh angles.
My phone showed seventeen missed calls from various numbers, a dozen text messages, three voicemails. I deleted them all without listening.
---
The apartment was dark when I returned, still carrying my briefcase, still wearing the suit I'd put on twelve hours ago. I didn't turn on lights. Just stood in the entryway, letting the silence settle.
I set my briefcase down and moved to the window, looking out at the city lights that never truly dimmed.
Tomorrow I would deal with it. Tomorrow I would call Alexander, would plan my response, would figure out how to untangle this latest complication.