Chapter 217
Alexander’s POV
The Fortune Corp conference room felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. I sat rigid in my leather chair, feeling the collective glare of the board members boring into me. Lawrence, that backstabbing bastard, looked positively gleeful as he paced at the front of the room.
“So would someone like to explain what the hell happened? Lawrence’s voice cut through the tense silence. “Mr. Stark, Alexander- one of you perhaps?” He gestured between my father and me. Three months ago, Alexander assured us the Stark Group project was a done deal. Now we’re learning Brandon Stark has chosen Lee Group and some foreign team instead.
My throat tightened. I’d only returned from my business trip a few days ago and had been swamped with year–end reports. The Stark Group project had seemed like a sure thing–my father had promised as much–and I’d stupidly taken my eye off the ball.
Lawrence wasn’t finished. “I don’t think Alexander ever took this project seriously. His thin lips curled into a smirk as he pulled out a tabloid magazine. “Take a look at this, everyone.”
He put his phone on the conference table. My stomach dropped as I saw the photo–me and Victoria walking together in Long Island, her arm looped through mine as we exited a restaurant.
“Isn’t your wife filming a TV series in Long Island, Alexander?” one of the directors asked, eyebrows raised. “Interesting timing for a conjugal visit, wouldn’t you say?”
My father snatched the magazine from the table, his face turning an alarming shade of purple as he flipped through the pages. I could practically see the steam rising from his collar.
“Alexander,” he growled, “would you care to explain yourself? While our company is losing critical business opportunities, you’re gallivanting around Long Island?”
“Father, I- I started.
“I told you in this company, there is no ‘father,” he snapped.
The humiliation burned like acid in my throat. I’d never seen him so furious in front of the board.
After the meeting, he practically dragged me to his office, slamming the door behind us. For a moment, I thought he might actually hit me his hand twitched at his side before he controlled himself, likely remembering we were still at the office.
“Explain yourself,” he demanded, jabbing a finger at my chest. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t understand what went wrong,” I defended myself. “My team worked around the clock for three months to prepare the perfect proposal. But how are we supposed to compete with Lee Group? They’re ten times our size!”
“You were supposed to leverage our connection,” he hissed. “William Stark gave me his word He owes me.”
“Well, clearly Brandon didn’t get the memo,” I shot back. “You said this was a sure thing!”
He paced his office like a caged animal. “That ungrateful little… after everything…” He stopped, seeming to remember I was there. “We need to fix this immediately. You’ll go see Brandon directly and find out what’s going on.”
“And you?” I asked.
“I’ll deal with William Stark,” he said grimly. “But first, go get a read on Brandon. Test the waters before I make my move.”
1/2
Chapter 217
Walking into Stark Tower felt different this time. Usually, I strode through these doors with confidence–Alexander Stark, a name that meant something. Today, I felt like an outsider.
I’m here to see Brandon Stark,” I told the receptionist.
She offered a practiced smile. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”
“No, but he’ll want to see me. I’m Alexander Stark.”
“One moment, please.” She picked up her phone, and I caught snippets of her conversation. “Yes… Mr. Alexander Stark… no appointment… shall I…? I see… Yes, I’ll tell him.”
She hung up and looked at me apologetically. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark isn’t available today.”
“When will he be back?” I demanded.
“I’m afraid I don’t have that information, sir.”
Bullshit. Brandon was avoiding me–probably sitting in his office right now, laughing at my predicament. I decided to wait him out in the lobby. He had to leave eventually, and when he did, I’d be ready.
Hour after excruciating hour passed. I watched waves of employees stream in and out for lunch, scrutinizing each face. Brandon never appeared. By early afternoon, my frustration had reached its peak, but I refused to leave. This project was too important–my reputation at Fortune Corp was on the line.
Then, just as employees were returning from lunch, I saw her.
Summer.
She was walking with another woman, laughing about something as they headed toward the entrance. My heart stuttered in my chest. She looked… incredible. Her skin glowed, her eyes bright and alive. She’d changed her hair slightly–it framed her face differently now–and she carried herself with a new confidence.
I stood frozen, unable to take my eyes off her. Several months had passed since I’d last seen her at Victoria’s birthday party. She hadn’t noticed me yet, still deep in conversation with her companion Something about her seemed radically different–a lightness, a self–assurance that hadn’t been there before.
As they approached the entrance, Summer finally looked up and our eyes met across the lobby. I saw the flash of recognition in her eyes, a brief moment of surprise crossing her features. She hesitated mid–step, saying something to her companion.
In that moment, watching her across the crowded lobby, an unexpected ache bloomed in my chest. Regret. Pure, unfiltered regret that crashed over me like a wave, threatening to drown out everything else–the project failure, my father’s fury, even my marriage to Victoria.
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