[POV Sloane]
The elevator chimed.
I didn’t look up. Another meeting, another distraction. I was reviewing the quarterly PR strategies when Ellen’s voice came crackling over the intercom.
“Mr. Wayne… there are visitors demanding to see you. Urgently.”
I tapped my pen, not in the mood. “Who?”
A pause. Then—
“Theodore and Genevieve Newman.”
I froze. I hadn’t heard those names in years, but I knew exactly who they were. Everyone in the industry did.
And Ari... had never said hers out loud. I stood slowly, smoothing my jacket as the door burst open.
They didn’t wait to be invited in.
Genevieve swept in like a storm in pearls, Theodore at her side, stiff-backed, eyes burning. They looked like royalty out of place—furious that the world had moved on without their permission.
“You,” Genevieve hissed, glaring at me. “What game do you think you’re playing?”
Theodore pointed an accusing finger toward my desk. “You married our daughter under false pretenses—”
I blinked. “Your daughter?”
“She’s a Newman,” Genevieve spat. “Not that Winters nonsense she invented to sneak into this company.”
I kept my expression perfectly still. Not a flicker.
“She’s our daughter,” she repeated, as if I’d missed it the first time. “Ariel Newman.”
Ariel.
It slammed into me like a punch to the chest.
Ari. Ariel. Newman.
Richard’s biggest rival. The family he’d spent a decade trying to outmaneuver in every financial quarter.
And she’d been under his roof for five years. Under mine. My spine stiffened.
“I’d advise you both to lower your voices,” I said evenly. “Unless you want the entire office speculating about your sudden concern for a daughter you’ve ignored for years.”
Genevieve’s mouth snapped shut.
Theodore’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
“Don’t I?” I crossed my arms. “Because from where I’m standing, your daughter made her own choices. Including marrying me. If you have concerns, perhaps you should take them up with her.”
“She’s confused—”
“She’s brilliant,” I cut in. “And if she chose to keep her name, her identity, and her distance from you, I’d say that’s a reflection of your parenting—not her judgment.”
Their stunned silence was satisfying. For about three seconds. Then I turned, calmly, and buzzed security.
“Please escort Mr. and Mrs. Newman out. They’re not on today’s schedule.”
Genevieve sputtered. “You can’t—”
“I just did.”
They left in a flurry of outrage and expensive fabric. And I stood there, teeth grinding, rage pooling under my skin like acid.
When the door finally clicked shut behind them, I exhaled. Long. Controlled.
Then I picked up the phone. “Get Ari in here. Now.”
She arrived five minutes later, her heels clicking fast against the tile. Her hair was slightly tousled, face pale, jaw clenched like she’d been bracing for impact.
“I didn’t know they were coming,” she said before I could speak.
“That’s what you’re opening with?”
She flinched, just slightly.
“You lied to me.” My voice was low, tight. “Your entire identity is a lie.”
“I never lied. I just... didn’t tell you everything.”
I stepped around the desk. Closer. I wanted to see her flinch. She didn’t.
“You’re Ariel Newman.”
“Yes.”
“You’re their daughter.”
“Yes.”
“And you walked into this company under a fake name. Why?”
Her eyes searched mine, conflicted. Tired. “At first... it was to prove something. To them. That I could do what they refused to let me do.”
I stared. “So you infiltrated our company?”
“It wasn’t infiltration. I came to work. To learn. Richard gave me a chance.”
“Was he in on it?”
She shook her head. “Not at first. But I think he figured it out. Eventually.”
“And you just... kept it from me?”
“What was I supposed to do, Sloane?” she snapped. “Tell you on our wedding night? ‘Hey, by the way, I’m the daughter of your dead father’s biggest rival. Hope that doesn’t ruin the vibe.’”
“You should’ve told me the truth the second I walked into that boardroom.”
“You didn’t exactly make it easy to open up.”
I laughed. Bitter. Sharp. “Don’t you dare make this my fault.”
“I’m not.” Her voice cracked. “I just—this wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“What? Getting caught?”
“No.” Her voice lowered. “Caring. About this place. About Richard. About any of it. I came here to prove myself to people who would never care either way. And instead, I built something real.”
I stared at her, heart pounding. My head was a warzone.
“You think this changes nothing?” I asked. “You lied about who you are.”
“I didn’t lie about what I became.”
I couldn’t look at her. I turned, pacing to the window, gripping the frame so hard my knuckles went white.
“This whole time,” I said. “I thought I knew the enemy. Turns out, I married her.”
Her breath hitched. And that was the last thing I wanted to hear. I turned back to her, chest tight.
“We’re done here.”
“Sloane—”
But I was already walking out. If I stayed one second longer, I might’ve said something I couldn’t take back.
And I wasn’t sure which betrayal hurt worse—hers... or the fact that I didn’t want to believe it was betrayal at all.