Page 35 of Falling for Mr. Ruthless

Nothing personal. Just business. But I've never made it a practice to lie to myself—except when it comes to her.

I follow her through the revolving doors to the waiting car. My hand hovers near the small of her back out of habit, not quite touching. Never quite touching.

The RSV conference room feels like a tribunal. Eight partners arranged on one side of a long table. Two empty chairs on the other. The power imbalance couldn't be more deliberate if they'd installed spotlights.

Chanel walks in first—spine straight, chin lifted. I follow, buttoning my jacket—a gesture that gives my hands something to do besides clenching into fists I might use.

"Ms. Warren, Mr. Giannetti." Phillip stands as we enter, professional courtesy masking discomfort. "Thank you for joining us on short notice."

"Of course." Chanel takes one of the empty chairs, setting her portfolio on the table. "I understand there are concerns."

I sit beside her, angling my body slightly forward—a subtle shift in position that places me between her and the board. Not shielding her completely, but creating a buffer. She notices—a quick glance, a fractional easing of tension in her shoulders before she catches herself and straightens again.

"Yes. Concerns." Phillip looks uncomfortable but determined—more so than our last encounter. "In light of recent... developments, questions have been raised about the objectivity of the audit process."

"We've had this discussion. So, what developments specifically?" Chanel's voice is cool, professional. Giving nothing away.

Phillip slides a tablet across the table. The photo stares up at us—grainy but unmistakable.

"This image was published early this morning. It shows you and Mr. Giannetti entering his residence together. After hours."

"For work," Chanel responds immediately. "The audit timeline?—"

"And these." He slides more photos in our direction. "They came via email."

I glance down, seeing the pictures for the first time. It's us together—not from years ago, but from earlier this week.

Picking up Jaden from karate three days ago, stopping for ice cream after. Chanel laughing at something our son said, her guard momentarily lowered. And I'm looking at her like she hung the sun and the moon, and the stars shine only for her.

Something cold slithers down my spine. Someone is following us now. Watching. Documenting. This isn't just digging up the past—it's stalking our present.

In one photo, Chanel wipes ice cream from Jaden's chin. In another, my hand hovers near the small of her back as we cross the street.

Normal, innocent moments between co-parents made sinister through a telephoto lens.

The realization hits like a blow—whoever is doing this isn't just after our professional reputations. They're dragging our son into it.

Bastardizing family moments into evidence.

"Ms. Warren." Wilton Hayes, the managing partner, cuts her off, something hardening in his expression. "The issue isn't just the photos. It's the context."

"Which is?"

"You didn't disclose your previous relationship with Mr. Giannetti when you accepted this assignment. And now this."

The room goes silent. I watch Chanel's face, see the careful composure slip for just a fraction of a second before she rebuilds it.

"My previous relationship is irrelevant to my professional capacity." Her voice doesn't waver.

"You were married to the CEO of our largest audit client." Another partner leans forward—Cameron Hayes, chair of theRSV Ethics Committee, known for his bloodless efficiency. "You share a child with him. That's not relevant?"

My jaw tightens. The mention of Jaden crosses a line. Chanel must feel the same—her hand flattens against the table.

"My personal life has no bearing on my professional judgment," she says, each word measured. "My track record for four years proves that."

"Until today." Wilton pushes a thick folder toward her—far thicker than I expected. "After our previous... discussion with Mr. Giannetti, we conducted our own investigation."

I feel something cold slide through my veins. They've been watching her. Despite my warning.