Chapter 7 - The Man Beside Him
Grant sat behind his desk.
David Chen stood ten feet away holding a pistol.
The weapon looked almost absurd in the hand of the man who had attended Grant's birthday dinners, negotiated his acquisitions, and toasted his fifteenth wedding anniversary.
“Why?” Grant asked.
David laughed quietly.
“That's always the question wealthy men ask when someone stops being loyal.”
“I trusted you.”
“You trusted everyone who told you what you wanted to hear.”
The words struck harder than David intended.
Because they were true.
“Malcolm paid you?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
“Later I realized your company was worth more dismantled than protected.”
David placed a folder on Grant's desk.
“Sign.”
“What is it?”
“Emergency authorization transferring control of three subsidiaries.”
Grant didn't touch it.
“Lauren already gave you up.”
David's expression flickered.
Grant saw it.
He was bluffing.
But apparently correctly.
“She talked?”
“Enough.”
David stepped closer.
“Sign.”
“No.”
“You think Camille will admire your courage?”
Grant's jaw tightened.
“Leave her out of this.”
David smiled.
“That's difficult. She's always been in it.”
Grant's eyes narrowed.
“Were you responsible for the photograph?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she wouldn't stop digging.”
“You threatened my wife.”
“I tried to frighten her.”
Grant slowly stood.
The gun lifted.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Grant.”
“If you intend to shoot me, you'll do it whether I'm sitting or standing.”
David's expression hardened.
“You really have changed.”
“No. I think I'm finally embarrassed by the man I became.”
Outside the building, tactical officers entered through the underground garage.
Camille sat inside a command vehicle watching security feeds.
Reed had ordered her to remain away from the scene.
For once, she obeyed.
Inside the office, David moved closer.
“Sign.”
Grant looked at the document.
Then at the gun.
Then at David.
“No.”
David struck him across the face with the weapon.
Grant stumbled against the desk.
Blood appeared at his lip.
“You built an empire because people like me cleaned up after you.”
Grant wiped his mouth.
“And I let you.”
David blinked.
Grant continued.
“I let Lauren flatter me. I let you solve things I should have questioned. I blamed Camille whenever she made me uncomfortable.”
He straightened.
“So yes, David. I created the conditions that made men like you useful.”
David's hand tightened around the pistol.
“But I'm done.”
A red laser appeared on David's chest.
Then another.
“Drop the weapon!”
The windows shattered inward as tactical officers entered from the adjoining terrace.
David spun.
Grant lunged.
The gun discharged.
Camille heard the shot through the command feed.
Her entire body went cold.
“Grant!”
She didn't remember leaving the vehicle.
She remembered running.
Security tried to stop her.
She fought past them until Reed caught her near the lobby.
“You can't go up.”
“Is he alive?”
“We don't know.”
“Marcus!”
“Camille.”
His expression softened.
“We don't know.”
Those three words destroyed the composure she had maintained for days.
Twenty minutes later, paramedics wheeled Grant through the lobby.
His shirt was covered in blood.
Camille stopped breathing.
Then Grant opened his eyes.
“Camille?”
She ran to him.
The bullet had grazed his upper arm.
Most of the blood came from shattered glass and the cut above his eyebrow.
“You idiot.”
Grant managed a weak smile.
“I've been called worse this week.”
She touched his face.
The movement happened instinctively.
Grant leaned into her palm.
Then both remembered everything.
Camille slowly withdrew her hand.
At the hospital, doctors stitched Grant's wounds.
David was arrested.
Lauren entered a cooperation agreement.
Malcolm Vane was detained the following morning as investigators executed warrants at several properties.
Whitmore Global's fraudulent transactions were frozen.
For the first time in weeks, the immediate danger seemed to be ending.
But marriages do not repair themselves when villains are arrested.
Grant learned that the hard way.
Camille did not move home.
She accepted the chairmanship of the independent infrastructure oversight commission, subject to ethics safeguards that removed her from decisions specifically involving Whitmore Global while investigations remained active.
Grant resigned temporarily as CEO.
He also announced an independent internal audit.
The press called it a corporate earthquake.
Camille called it accountability.
Three weeks passed.
Then six.
Grant started therapy.
He did not tell Camille to impress her.
He told her because she asked how he was doing and he decided to answer truthfully.
“Badly,” he said.
They were drinking coffee in a quiet Georgetown café.
“But better than I deserve.”
Camille frowned.
“Stop saying that.”
“What?”
“That you deserve to suffer.”
“I hurt you.”
“Yes.”
“Then—”
“Pain isn't accountability, Grant. Change is.”
He stared at her.
She stirred her coffee.
“If all you do is hate yourself, eventually you'll make me responsible for forgiving you so you can feel better.”
Grant slowly nodded.
“I hadn't thought of that.”
“I know.”
He smiled faintly.
There was something familiar in the moment.
Something old.
Something they had lost before Lauren ever entered the picture.
Conversation.
Grant looked at her bare hand.
“I miss you.”
Camille's spoon stopped.
“I know.”
“I miss us.”
She looked up.
“I don't know if us exists anymore.”
“Can we find out?”
She was silent.
Grant did not push.
That mattered too.
Finally Camille said, “Not yet.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
When they left the café, Grant walked her toward her car.
At the curb, both stopped.
The symbolism wasn't lost on either of them.
Months earlier he had left her beside another curb.
Grant opened the passenger door.
Camille looked at him.
He stepped backward.
No assumptions.
No demands.
Her choice.
She entered.
Before closing the door, Grant said quietly, “Camille?”
“Yes?”
“I should have chosen you.”
Her expression softened, but only slightly.
“No.”
Grant looked confused.
Camille held his gaze.
“You should have chosen integrity. Then choosing me wouldn't have required a decision.”
The door closed.
May you like
Grant stood on the sidewalk watching her leave.
For the first time, he understood exactly what she meant.
