Emma didn't sleep.
She sat on her couch with that letter in her hands, reading it until the words blurred together. Until the sun started creeping through her windows, painting Manhattan in shades of gold and pink.
Marcus.
The name kept circling in her brain like a vulture. She remembered him vaguely—tall guy, silver hair, always wore expensive suits. He'd been at their wedding. Had given a toast about James being destined for greatness.
He'd played them both.
And Emma really, really hated being played.
She grabbed her phone. It was six-thirty in the morning. Too early for a business call.
Perfect.
She texted James: What hotel?
The response came back immediately. Like he'd been awake too. The Plaza. Room 847. Why?
Emma didn't answer. Just grabbed her coat and headed for the door.
The Plaza's lobby was mostly empty this early. A few tourists. Business travelers grabbing coffee before flights. The concierge gave Emma a curious look but didn't stop her when she headed for the elevators.
Eighth floor. Room 847.
She knocked. Hard.
Footsteps. Then the door opened.
James looked like hell. Wrinkled t-shirt. Sweatpants. Hair sticking up in every direction. Eyes red-rimmed like he'd been crying or drinking or both.
"Emma?" He blinked at her like she was a mirage. "It's seven in the morning."
"I know what time it is." She pushed past him into the room. Hotel suite. Nice one. But it had that temporary feeling. Suitcase open on the floor. Clothes draped over chairs. No personal touches. Just a place to exist.
"Did you read the letter?" James closed the door. His voice was careful. Hopeful.
"I read it." Emma pulled a folder from her bag. Slapped it down on the desk. "I'm in."
His whole face changed. Relief. Joy. "Thank you. God, Emma, thank you—"
"I'm not finished." She cut him off cold. "Sit down."
He sat. On the edge of the unmade bed. Looking up at her like she held his entire future in her hands.
She did.
"New terms," Emma said. "Phoenix Ventures invests fifty million for fifty-one percent equity."
"Fifty-one?" James's eyes widened. "That's controlling interest."
"Yes." Emma opened the folder. Fresh contract. She'd had her lawyers draw it up at five this morning. "And you step down as CEO."
The color drained from his face. "What?"
"You heard me. I'm installing Lena Chen as CEO. She's brilliant, and she doesn't have your baggage. You stay on as President and CTO." Emma's voice was businesslike. Clinical. "Let's be honest, James. Your strength was always product development. Vision. Strategy. Leadership? Not so much."
"You're taking my company."
"I'm saving your company." Emma leaned against the desk. "Marcus orchestrated your downfall. Fine. But you let him. You made those choices. You said those things to me. So no, you don't get to keep running Sterling Tech into the ground."
"Then why are you doing this?" His voice cracked. "If you hate me so much—"
"I don't hate you." The words came out softer than she intended. "I hate what you did. There's a difference." She straightened. "I'm doing this because Marcus played us both. And I don't lose, James. Not to men like him."
Silence. Heavy. Charged.
James stared at the contract. "If I refuse?"
"You don't have time to refuse. Marcus is probably already making his move." Emma checked her watch. "Sign now, or I walk. Your choice."
He picked up the pen she'd placed on the contract. Stared at it.
"I built this company," he said quietly.
"And I'm going to save it." Emma's voice was firm. "But on my terms. Always on my terms now."
James signed. Three places. His signature looked shaky.
When he looked up, something had shifted in his eyes. Not defeat exactly. Something else. Acceptance, maybe. Or relief that someone else was taking the wheel.
"Okay," he said. "Partners."
"Business partners," Emma corrected. She took the contract. "Nothing more. Don't forget that."
But even as she said it, she felt something tug in her chest. Dangerous. Unwanted.
She ignored it.
"Get dressed," she told him. "We have a strategy meeting at nine. And James? Don't be late."
Sterling Tech's conference room felt different this time.
Emma sat at the head of the table. Not James. Her.
Lena was on her right, already reviewing transition plans. Marcus and Jennifer flanked her left. James sat further down—present but not in charge. The power shift was obvious.
Emma's team moved efficiently. Presentations pulled up. Data analyzed. They were planning a hostile defense against Marcus's takeover, and they had seventy-two hours to pull it off.
"We need to contact every board member," Lena was saying. "Lock in their votes before Marcus can sway them."
"Already done," Emma said. "I made calls this morning. Seven of the nine are with us."
James looked impressed. "How did you—"
"I'm very persuasive." Emma's smile was sharp. "The other two are Marcus loyalists. We'll deal with them."
The door burst open.
Sophia.
She stood there in the doorway, pregnant belly prominent under a designer dress, looking shocked and furious and confused all at once.
"What the hell is going on?" Her eyes found James. "I got an email saying there's new management? James, what did you do?"
"Sophia." James's voice was tight. "You shouldn't be here."
"I work here. I'm on leave, but I'm still—"
"You're terminated." Emma's voice cut through the room like ice. "Security will escort you out. You have one hour to collect your personal belongings."
Sophia's face went red. "You can't do that. James, tell her—"
"Emma owns this company now," James said quietly. "What she says goes."
The betrayal on Sophia's face would've been satisfying if Emma had the energy to care. But she didn't. This woman was collateral damage. A pawn in Marcus's game.
"This is because of us," Sophia said, voice shaking. She moved closer to the table. To James. "Because I'm with someone else now. You're letting your bitter ex-wife destroy your company out of—"
"I'm not bitter." Emma stood. Walked around the table slowly. Deliberately. "I'm successful. There's a difference."
Sophia's eyes narrowed. "You think you're so powerful now. But you're just—"
"Careful." Emma's voice dropped. Dangerous. "You're already fired. Don't give me a reason to make this uglier than it needs to be."
"James." Sophia tried again. Pleading now. "You're really going to let her do this to me?"
James didn't even look at her. "You left me for my VP of Sales. You took my son. Don't pretend this is about us."
Something cracked in Sophia's expression. The mask slipping. Emma saw it. The calculation. The desperation.
"Fine." Sophia's voice went cold. "You want to play this game? I've got emails. Communications between James and investors that could tank this whole deal. I'll leak them. I'll—"
"No, you won't." Emma pulled out her phone. Opened a folder. "Because I have screenshots of every email you've sent from Sterling Tech's servers for the past three years. Including the ones to Marcus about sabotaging product launches. About feeding James false information about me."
Sophia went pale.
"You knew," Emma continued. "You knew Marcus was planning this takeover. You were in on it from the start. You thought when he took over, you'd be installed as CEO. That was the deal, wasn't it?"
Silence. Deafening.
"Get out," Emma said quietly. "While you still can. Because if you make me involve lawyers, I promise you—my lawyers are faster, meaner, and better funded than anything you can afford."
Sophia looked around the room. At James, who wouldn't meet her eyes. At Emma, who stood there like a queen on a chessboard. At Lena and the others, who were watching with cold professionalism.
She was outmatched. Outplayed.
"This isn't over," Sophia spat.
"Yes," Emma said. "It is."
Security arrived—Emma had called them the moment Sophia burst in. They escorted her out. She went quietly in the end. Too smart to make a bigger scene.
The door closed.
Everyone exhaled.
"Well," Lena said dryly. "That was dramatic."
Emma sat back down. "Back to work. We have a takeover to prevent."
The meeting lasted three hours.
By the end, they had a plan. Airtight. Aggressive. They'd contact the remaining board members, present the new financial backing, show projections with Lena as CEO. Marcus wouldn't know what hit him.
Emma's team filed out. Lena shot her a knowing look before leaving—be careful—but didn't say it out loud.
And then it was just Emma and James.
The conference room felt enormous suddenly. Empty.
James was gathering papers, moving slowly. Tired. "You didn't have to protect me from Sophia's threats."
"I didn't do it for you." Emma leaned back in her chair. "I did it because I don't lose."
"Still." He looked at her. Really looked at her. "Thank you."
Emma shrugged. Tried to seem unaffected.
Silence stretched. Awkward. Heavy with things unsaid.
"For what it's worth," James said quietly, "I'm sorry. Not because I need something from you. Not to make myself feel better. I'm sorry because you deserved better. You deserved everything."
The words landed in Emma's chest. Soft. Painful.
"Yes," she said. "I did."
More silence. But different now. Raw. Honest.
Emma stood to leave. She should leave. Being here alone with him was dangerous. Her walls were cracking, and she couldn't afford that.
But at the door, she turned back.
"James?"
He looked up.
"Don't mistake this alliance for forgiveness," she said. "We're partners now because it serves my interests. Nothing more."
"I know."
But her eyes betrayed her. She could feel it. Something stirring. Something she'd buried deep.
Old feelings. Dangerous feelings.
She left before he could see it fully.
Emma's phone started buzzing the second she got in the car.
News alerts. One after another.
The photos from last night. They were everywhere.
"Tech Mogul Emma Hartley's Secret Connection to Sterling Tech CEO—Former Spouses Reunite for Business Deal or Something More?"
There was the photo. James's hand on her back. Them leaving the restaurant together. It looked... intimate. Like more than business.
Damn it.
Her phone rang. Unknown number. Then again. Then—
Mom.
Emma stared at the caller ID. She hadn't talked to her mother in two years. Not since the divorce. Her mom had loved James. Had blamed Emma for "not trying hard enough" to save the marriage.
The call went to voicemail. Then immediately called again.
Emma answered. "Mom."
"Emma!" Her mother's voice was breathless. Excited. "I saw the photos. Are you and James—"
"No." Emma's voice was flat. "It's business."
"But the way he was looking at you—"
"Business, Mom. That's all."
"Oh." Disappointment. Clear as day. "Well. I suppose it's good you're both being mature about everything."
Emma closed her eyes. "I have to go."
"Wait, sweetheart. Can we talk? Really talk? I've missed you."
"Not now." Emma's throat felt tight. "I'm in the middle of something."
She hung up before her mother could respond. Felt guilty immediately. But couldn't deal with that right now.
Her phone buzzed again. This time a text from Marcus himself.
Saw the news. Interesting development. See you at the emergency board meeting Monday. Good luck.
Emergency board meeting. Shit.
Another text from Jennifer: Marcus called a vote. Monday at 10 AM. He's accelerating the takeover. We have 72 hours.
Emma looked up. James had followed her down to the parking garage. Was standing by her car, hands in his pockets, looking uncertain.
"Marcus called an emergency meeting," she said.
"I know. I just got the notification." He ran a hand through his hair. "Monday morning. He's not wasting time."
"Neither are we." Emma opened her car door. Paused. "Call your board members. The ones you're close with. Tell them to hold their positions. This war just got very public, and we're going to need to be a united front."
"Together?" James's voice was quiet. Hopeful.
Emma looked at him. This man who'd destroyed her. This man she was now tied to in the most complicated way possible.
She smiled. Dangerous. Sharp.
"Together," she said. "But don't get used to it."
Then she got in her car and drove away.
Leaving James standing there in the parking garage.
And for the first time in two years, Emma felt something other than anger when she thought about him.
It terrified her.