Five

William

The verdict came in, and all I felt was empty.

I sat at my bedroom desk, the weight of the night pressing in on me as the dim glow of my laptop illuminated the message I couldn’t stop staring at.

‘Good day, Mr. Bracknell,

Unfortunately, the board has ultimately decided to hand over the Partnership agreement to Yarrus Corporation. We sincerely appreciate...’

The words blurred together after that, but the first lines were carved into my mind. I read them over and over again as if they would suddenly change.

It was over. I’d lost.

My throat tightened, the sting of tears rising. I wanted to cry. To scream. But instead, I slammed my fist against the desk, rattling everything on its surface.

“How could this happen?” I hissed under my breath.

I had done everything… poured everything I had into sealing this deal. I’d spent a fortune, exhausted every ounce of charm, and worked tirelessly to appeal to them. I’d done everything right.

And this was my reward?

“No,” I whispered fiercely, standing so abruptly my chair scraped against the floor. “It’s not over.”

Before I realized it, I was throwing on a coat and driving through the quiet streets toward the Terra Corporation building. Anger and determination boiled inside me, drowning out the rational voice in my head.

I deserved an answer.

When I stormed into the lobby, the startled secretary looked up, her expression morphing from confusion to worry. I didn’t care.

“I want to speak to the CEO. Now,” I demanded, my voice cold and unrelenting.

The young woman hesitated, but seeing the fire in my eyes, she quickly picked up her phone. My pulse pounded in my ears, my body taut like a live wire, ready to snap.

Moments later, she set the phone down and stood. “He’s expecting you. Follow me.”

I followed her wordlessly, my breath uneven as we moved through the pristine halls. The closer we got, the harder my heart slammed against my ribcage.

When we finally reached the large double doors, the secretary left me to it. I didn’t knock. I didn’t hesitate.

I shoved the door open.

And froze.

My voice came out as a hoarse whisper, the horror sinking into my bones.

“What are you doing here?”

It was a question I had asked him before, but this time it carried a chilling edge.

Because sitting there, in the CEO’s leather chair, was Tristan.

He leaned back casually, a smug smirk playing on his lips as if he’d been waiting for me all along.

“Surprise,” he drawled, spreading his arms out with mock cheer.

I stared at him, my mind whirring, trying and failing to comprehend what I was seeing.

“This has to be a joke,” I said, my voice rising as panic clawed at my chest. “Where the hell is the CEO?”

Tristan stood up, his tall frame radiating nothing but calm arrogance as he stepped toward me.

“Calm down, William,” he said smoothly. “I think it’s pretty obvious by now.”

The words hit me like a slap, but I refused to believe them. “No. You’re playing games. Tell me where he is!”

He tilted his head, the smirk never leaving his face. “I am the CEO.”

The room spun. My stomach dropped.

“And,” Tristan added, taking another step closer, “I think congratulations are in order. I won the bet.”

The memory of our wager slammed into me like a freight train, my mind scrambling to make sense of it.

“The…” My voice broke. “The bet...?”

Tristan’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he shrugged nonchalantly. “You bet you could win over Terra Corporation when you assumed I was just some low-level representative for Yarrus. What you didn’t realize,” he said, voice lowering smugly, “is that you never stood a chance. Not when I had the final say all along.”

The truth crashed into me like a wave, stealing the air from my lungs.

I had been played.

Deceived.

Tristan had been manipulating me this entire time, letting me run in circles, thinking I could win.

And the worst part? He’d enjoyed it.

Now I understood why he was in the cruise ship. It wasn't because he was anyone's plus one. It was because he was the CEO, Terra Corp’s TOP executive.

“You bastard.” I cursed out, trembling  in rage,

“Don't be a sore loser William. Now, about that favor-”

I didn't bother to hear the rest of what he was going to say as I stormed out of his office.

Humiliation filled me. I wanted to curl up and die on the spot. I'd done everything in my power to make my father proud, to try to get this deal and I FAILED.

All because of Tristan.

Storming into the bar I dropped on the nearest seat.

“Bring me the best goddamn alcohol you have.” I spat out

 It didn't take long for me to get drunk. I was a lightweight since birth but I tossed down the alcohol like I was an alcoholic looking for their fix.

I embraced the sting of the spirits and the haze it brought, already downing half the bottle. I was ready to stay here tonight to drown in my sorrows. This at least would be a small comfort.

But it seemed like even that couldn't be and I smelt a familiar cologne as a hand brushed my shoulder.

“William.” Tristan’s voice reached me, making my hackles rise. Standing up, I turned to confront him.

“Leave me alone.” I tried threatening him but my words came out slurred. I stumbled in my attempts to maintain my balance,

Tristan frowned, turning to the bottle and back to me.

“See what you've done. You're a lightweight. Why would you take this type of alcohol?” he scolded. I felt his hands brush my skin and instantly pushed him away.

“Stay away from me!” I screamed. I felt the place quiet and several eyes in me but focused on him pointing straight at him.”

“You and Caleb are the same,” I slurred, my words wobbling as much as my legs. My balance teetered, but the anger boiling in me anchored me to the ground—or so I thought. “You two keep trying to break me. To ruin me and my family.”

The bitterness coated my tongue as I spat out the next words, my vision swimming between Tristan’s stoic face and the dim glow of the bar lights behind him.

“Assholes. Bastards. Fuck you. Fuck all of you!”

“Watch your words,” Tristan said, his voice cutting through the haze. But even as I glared at him, there was no anger in his tone, no fire in his expression. Instead, his face softened like he was pitying me.

That made my blood boil even hotter.

I lurched forward, fists clenched, irrational and furious. “Don’t you dare pity me!”

My swing was sloppy, unfocused, but he dodged it with maddening ease. Before I knew what was happening, his hands gripped my torso firmly, pulling me out of the bar. I struggled like a wild animal, throwing curses at him as the hum of voices and music faded into the night air.

“Let me go, you asshole! Let…”

The words were ripped out of me as my back hit the rough brick wall of the alley. The cold sent a shiver through me, but not as much as the feel of my wrists being pinned above my head. I screamed and writhed, my curses blending with my ragged breaths.

“Stop. Just stop,” Tristan barked.

His voice wasn’t loud, but it had a finality to it that made me freeze. My chest heaved as I stared at him, unable to look away even as the night wind brushed against my face.

Something cold and wet clung to my cheeks, and for a split second, I thought it was rain. But then I realized the truth—I was crying.

When did I start crying?

A weak humorless laugh slipped out of me, but it didn’t stop the tears from falling. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

I was crying. In front of him.

I braced myself, expecting him to sneer, to say something cutting or cruel. But instead, Tristan’s grip on my wrists loosened, and before I could process it, a soft piece of fabric was pressed against my face.

It took me a moment to register what he was doing.

He was wiping my tears away.

My body went still, the anger draining out of me as his hand, firm but careful, moved across my cheeks. His other hand held my chin steady, keeping me in place even though I’d long stopped resisting.

“I can’t stand this,” he muttered, almost like he was angry—but not at me.

I blinked up at him, my vision blurring again as fresh tears spilled, but his movements didn’t falter. I didn’t recognize the feeling that was settling in my chest, but it tangled with the coils of confusion and shame already there.

When he finally pulled the handkerchief away, I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there, limp against the wall, as he shoved the soft fabric into my hand.

Our gazes locked, and for a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe.

His eyes, dark and unreadable, lingered on mine before trailing downward, hovering just a second too long on my lips.

The air shifted, and a spark ignited low in my stomach—a strange, coiling heat that made my breath hitch.

I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or something else entirely, but for a split second, the world narrowed to just us.

Is he going to…?

But suddenly, he stepped back, the absence of his body leaving me cold.

I stumbled, catching myself against the wall as I watched him turn away, his expression unreadable as he walked into the night.

The only thing left of him was the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the handkerchief still clutched in my hand.

I stared after him, my mind spinning with too many thoughts to hold onto.

But amid the chaos, two questions burned clearer than all the rest:

Why did I feel that way?

And… why did he look like he was going to kiss me?