Page 2

“Lucas?” Her eyes widen, then narrow. “I mean, Mr. Walker. Welcome back.”

There’s a careful distance in her voice that wasn’t there the night of Dad’s party. Back then, we’d almost bridged the gap between friendship and something more before my father’s announcement sent me running to New York.

I should step back. I should say something smooth and professional that establishes the proper distance between a CEO and his Head of Market Analysis. Instead, I find myself grinning. “Still a hurricane in heels, I see.”

“Still making dramatic exits and entrances.” The spark in her eyes carries months of unspoken accusations. “You know, most executives don’t ghost their entire company before claiming the throne.”

So much for professional distance. But then, Emma never did pull punches—that’s why Dad promoted her through four departments in record time. She eventually landed in market analysis, where her uncanny ability to predict consumer trends kept us ahead of our competitors.

The same competitors who are betting on me to fail spectacularly.

“These reports,” I say, crouching down to gather the scattered papers. “They’re for the board meeting?”

Emma drops beside me, close enough that I catch the scent of her shampoo—something floral and fresh that brings back memories of strategy sessions that ran late into the night, whenour debates about market trends would drift into deeper waters neither of us was brave enough to navigate.

“They were supposed to be on your desk an hour ago. Garrett’s been asking for them.”

“Let him ask.” Our hands brush as we reach for the same paper, and that simple touch sends electricity up my arm. Just like the night of Dad’s party, when we’d stood on the balcony talking about everything except what mattered—his diagnosis, my promotion, the kiss we both knew was coming before his announcement changed everything.

“Lucas.” Emma’s voice softens. “The board... they’re not just testing you. They’re looking for any excuse to prove you’re still the hothead who walked away after fighting with your father. These reports—“

“Show a pattern.” I spot a graph among the scattered papers. “Our tech division is spending heavily on R&D without immediate returns, isn’t it? That’s why Garrett’s here early. He’s hoping to catch me unprepared.”

She sits back on her heels, surprise flickering across her face. “You’ve changed.”

“Had to happen eventually.” I stand, offering her a hand up along with the stack of papers I’ve collected. “Turns out running away to prove Dad wrong about me wasn’t the solution I thought it would be.”

Emma takes my hand, and for a moment, we’re too close. Close enough that I see the hurt I put there. Her eyes ask what her lips don’t: Why didn’t you say goodbye? Why did you stay away so long?

Down the hall, Harrison Garrett steps out of my office. His eyes lock onto us—the new CEO, still holding hands with his Head of Market Analysis, surrounded by scattered papers. I can practically see him calculating how to use this against me.

Emma tries to pull away, but I hold firm. Because suddenly, I know exactly how to handle this.

“The reports aren’t ready,” I say clearly, letting my voice carry. “Because I asked Ms. Hastings to revise them. The board deserves a complete picture, don’t you think, Garrett? Including the patent application our tech division filed last week?”

Garrett’s eyes narrow. Emma’s widen.

“Patent application?” she whispers.

“Check your email. I forwarded it last night after reviewing the R&D reports from while I was gone.” I’d spent my first night back in Silver Springs analyzing a decade of company documents, looking for this kind of ammunition. “The old Lucas might have shown up unprepared. The new one?” I finally release her hand, straightening my tie. “He’s got something to prove.”

I head toward my office, toward my first battle as CEO. Behind me, I hear Sophie’s delighted laugh mixing with Emma’s stunned silence. And for the first time since Dad’s funeral three months ago, the weight of his legacy feels less like a burden and more like a challenge I’m finally ready to face.

Winning over the board might be the easy part. Earning back Emma’s trust—and perhaps something more—will be the real test of whether I’ve truly changed.

Both battles are worth fighting, and I intend to win them.

Game on.

Chapter Two

Emma

“I’m going to kill you.” I glare at Sophie Walker across our favorite booth at O’Sullivan’s Pub, clutching my wine glass tightly. “Slowly. Painfully. With office supplies.”

“Specifically, that industrial stapler you stole—the one I needed for the sustainability metrics that are now completely scattered across the floor after your brother crashed into me.”

“What?” Sophie blinks with perfect innocence, a look I stopped believing sometime around third grade when she convinced me that eating mud pies would give us superpowers. “I simply forgot to mention that Lucas was starting as CEO today. It slipped my mind.”