The Veiled Syndicate Book 1: Shattered Loyalties

Chapter 8: Unyielding Resolve

Chapter 8: Unyielding Resolve

I didn't want anyone to find out this way. Or rather, I never wanted anyone to find out at all.

FLASHBACK

The day had been brutal, a whirlwind of meetings scattered across the city, each one draining me more than the last. The nauseous feeling gnawing at my stomach for days had worsened, and it felt like my body was finally betraying me. But I wasn't going to let anyone see that. Not Jason. Not the men we were about to meet. No one.

As we walked toward the imposing glass doors of the Mason Building, one of the largest corporations in the city, Jason glanced at me with that look. His concern was etched across his face, and though I felt it too, I wasn't about to let weakness show.

"Are you okay?" Jason's voice was low, cautious. "You've been off all day."

I straightened my spine and threw on my mask of invincibility. "I'm fine," I said flatly, dismissing his concern. "Let's get this done. We can talk later."

The Mason Corporation—everyone was fighting to get them as a partner. Their financial backing was invaluable, especially with everything falling apart behind the scenes. The deal we were negotiating today could secure the safety net we desperately needed.

The lobby air was cold as it hit my skin, and I shivered despite myself. Damn it. I could feel Jason's eyes burning into my back as we strode toward the elevators. I kept my head high, heels clicking against the marble, echoing through the silence of the lobby like a countdown.

My father always told me: "Never show them weakness. Own the room like it was built for you, and they will bend before you know it."

I had lived by those words for as long as I could remember. No matter how I felt, the world would never see it.

The elevator dinged, pulling me from my thoughts, and I steeled myself for the game ahead. Jason walked beside me, but his presence faded as I set my sights on the boardroom at the end of the hall. The door swung open, and all eyes turned to us.

A thin, well-dressed man, probably in his sixties, immediately rose from his seat, a practiced smile plastered across his face. His gaze, however, was fixed on Jason. Of course. His mistake.

"We're so glad to have you here," he said, stepping toward Jason with his hand extended.

Jason raised a single eyebrow, his silence pointed. The man's face flushed slightly, and he quickly shifted his attention toward me, his expression faltering.

"And you must be the assistant," he said, flashing a smug grin as if he'd just delivered the cleverest line of the day.

I didn't acknowledge his outstretched hand. Instead, I stepped past him without a word, making my way to the head of the table, where I belonged. The room's air thickened, tension palpable as I took my seat, all eyes on me.

I glanced briefly at Jason standing near the back of the room, the confusion clear on his face. He hadn't yet realized what game I was playing. But he would. Everyone always did.

"Ladies," I began, giving a respectful nod to the few women present, then letting my gaze drift over the rest of the room. "Gentlemen." My voice was calm, composed, yet it commanded the space. "It's lovely to finally meet you all. Now, I know we're all busy, so let's not waste time. Why don't you go ahead and start with your proposal."

There was a ripple of confusion. People exchanged glances, uncertain about what was happening. Their arrogance was almost amusing.

Finally, one of the men, his voice smug, spoke up. "I think you're mistaken. You're here to propose to us."