Zayden’s POV
The proposal sits on my desk like a loaded weapon.
I've been reading it for forty minutes, and with each page, my jaw clenches tighter. Aiden's not just proposing partnership—he's architecting a hostile takeover so subtle it almost looks legitimate.
Almost.
"Look at section 4.2," I tell Landon over speakerphone, highlighting the clause. "Data sharing protocols."
"Reading it now." Pause. "Jesus Christ. He wants full access to donor databases, medical records, financial systems. Everything."
"Under the guise of 'operational transparency for collaborative ventures.'" I flip to the next section. "And here—section 6.1. Joint funding approval for any expenditure over fifty thousand. Which gives him veto power over basically every significant decision we make."
"That's not a partnership, that's a board seat without calling it one."
"It's better than a board seat." I lean back, rubbing my eyes. "Board members have fiduciary duties, oversight, accountability. This structure gives him access and influence without any of the legal obligations. He can sabotage us and walk away clean."
Landon swears creatively. "What about the liability clauses?"
I find section 8. Read it twice to make sure I'm understanding correctly. "We indemnify him for any 'collaborative decisions' but he's not liable for outcomes. So if his 'consulting' tanks our funding, we eat the consequences. He faces none."
"That's insane. No legitimate partnership would include that."
"It's not meant to be legitimate, it's meant to be a trap." I flip back to the opening page—the summary that sounds so reasonable. Strategic Partnership for Enhanced Community Impact. All the right buzzwords. All the perfect framing.
Buried beneath it: complete infiltration.
"He knew we'd reject it," I say, thinking out loud. "This isn't actually about us accepting. It's about having documentation."
"Documentation of what?"
"That he tried to help. That he offered solutions. That when everything falls apart, it'll be because we refused his 'reasonable' proposal."
I stand, start pacing.
"He's building a narrative. Ex-fiancée accuses me of abuse. Donors pull funding. Estranged brother offers a lifeline. We reject it out of pride or control or whatever spin he puts on it. Foundation collapses. And Aiden looks like the responsible one who tried to save it."
"Fuck." Landon's quiet for a moment. "That's actually brilliant. Sociopathic, but brilliant."
"He learned from Harrison." The realization settles heavy in my chest. "This is exactly how our father operated. Create problems, offer solutions that give you leverage, watch people trap themselves trying to escape."
My office door opens. Jocelyn enters, laptop under her arm, face set in that expression that means she's been working on something intense.
"Landon, I'll call you back." I hang up. "What is it?"
"I've been documenting Aiden's pattern." She sets her laptop on my desk, turns it toward me. "Every interaction, every boundary he's tested, every piece of information he shouldn't have access to but does."
The spreadsheet is meticulous. Dates, times, specific incidents. Color-coded by severity.
Sept 14 - Attended foundation gala under false name (Adrian Wade)
April 2 - Accessed medical scheduling systems, confirmed knowledge of pregnancy
April 3 - Bypassed security, entered office unescorted
April 3 - Referenced donor communications before official notification
"This is comprehensive," I say, scrolling through.
"Maya helped. She pulled security footage, cross-referenced visitor logs, tracked his digital footprint."
Jocelyn points to a highlighted section.
"Look at the escalation pattern. First contact was passive—just observing at the gala. Then information gathering. Then direct confrontation. Now he's actively sabotaging donor relationships."
"Testing boundaries," I murmur. "Seeing how far he can push before we push back."
"Exactly. And each time we don't respond with force, he escalates further." She pulls up another tab. "I also documented the timeline of Vivienne's posts compared to Aiden's appearances. They're coordinated."
The correlation is impossible to miss. Vivienne releases her therapy-speak video the day after Aiden's first office visit. Her "accountability" post drops two hours after he hand-delivers the proposal.
"They're working together," I say.
"Or he's feeding her information and she's using it for her brand relaunch." Jocelyn closes the laptop. "Either way, this is orchestrated. Not random attacks—a campaign."
I lean against my desk, processing. My ex-fiancée and my half-brother, united in their desire to destroy what Jocelyn and I have built. The symmetry would be poetic if it weren't so dangerous.
"I'm implementing new security protocols," I say, pulling up the draft memo I've been working on. "Every visitor escorted from lobby to destination and back. Photo ID required. Visitor logs reviewed daily by David. No exceptions."
Jocelyn reads over my shoulder. "This will slow down operations. Make us look paranoid."
"I don't care. Aiden walked into your office unannounced. That can't happen again."
"Agreed." She takes my hand. "But we need to be smart about the optics. If we look like we're in crisis mode, it feeds the narrative that we're unstable."
"What do you suggest?"
"Frame it as expansion protocol. We're growing—third location opening, documentary filming, increased public visibility. Enhanced security is standard for organizations our size."
She's already editing the memo, softening language without weakening substance. "See? Same rules, different presentation."
I watch her work—transforming my defensive reaction into proactive policy. This is why we work. I see threats and build walls. She sees the same threats and builds better doors.
"Send it," she says, finishing the edits. "I'll brief Maya and Patricia personally. Make sure everyone understands this isn't about fear—it's about professionalism."
I hit send on the staff-wide email. Within minutes, responses start flooding in.
Makes sense given media attention
Good call on the visitor escorts
Should've had this in place already tbh
"They get it," Jocelyn says, reading over my shoulder. "No one's questioning why. They're just adapting."
My phone buzzes. Text from David: Reviewed last 6 months visitor logs per your request. Found 3 entries for Adrian Wade, Montgomery Consulting. All signed in by temp staff who are no longer employed.
"He's been here three times before today," I tell Jocelyn, showing her the message. "Under his fake identity. While we had no idea."
Her face goes pale. "What was he doing?"
"Gathering intelligence. Meeting with staff. Learning our systems." I forward David's text to our lawyer. "This is stalking. Corporate espionage. We have grounds for a restraining order."
"Will that stop him?"
"No, but it creates legal documentation. Makes it harder for him to claim he was just trying to help."
Jocelyn moves to the window, arms wrapped around herself. "I keep thinking about what he said. That you might not be able to protect me when things escalate."
"He's trying to scare you."
"It's working." She turns to face me. "Not because I think you can't protect me, but because I'm realizing how much access he's already had. How much damage he could've done if he wanted to."
The fear in her voice makes something fierce and protective surge in my chest. I cross to her, pull her against me.
"He's not getting near you again," I say into her hair. "Not you, not Mia, not this baby. I don't care what it takes."
"We can't live in a fortress."
"Then we build walls that don't look like walls." I hold her tighter. "Enhanced security. Legal barriers. Public documentation of his harassment. We make it so difficult and costly for him to continue that he gives up."
"And if he doesn't give up?"
"Then we make him regret ever thinking he could use my family as leverage."
She pulls back, searches my face. "That sounds like old Zayden. The one who dealt with problems through intimidation and power."
"Maybe old Zayden had some useful skills." I cup her face. "I won't become my father. But I also won't let my past destroy our future because I'm too afraid of seeming controlling."
"There's a difference between protection and control."
"I know. And I need you to tell me if I cross that line."
"Deal." She kisses me softly. "Now let's finish this security memo and get home. Mia has her school play rehearsal tonight and I promised I'd help with her costume."
The whiplash from corporate espionage to elementary school theater should be jarring. Instead, it's grounding. Reminder that our real life exists beyond Aiden's schemes and Vivienne's posts.
We have a daughter who needs a tiger costume. A foundation helping real families. A baby growing. A marriage worth protecting.
That's what matters.
Everything else is just noise trying to drown out the truth. And I'm done letting noise win.