Chapter 16 - The Fall of Conrad Reed
By morning, Reed Global had survived.
Technically.
Financial markets were less certain.
News outlets reported that CEO Graham Reed had been suspended, reinstated, secretly married, investigated, cleared, and connected to a multibillion-dollar hidden trust—all within approximately twenty-four hours.
The stock exchange temporarily halted trading.
The Department of Justice announced an inquiry.
Three board members resigned.
Leonard Shaw was arrested.
Daniel Cross turned himself in voluntarily.
Conrad Reed resigned.
And I slept for eleven hours.
When I woke, Graham wasn’t beside me.
Because despite one kiss and one accidental marriage, we still hadn’t shared a bed.
A note rested on the table.
Coffee is fresh. Caroline says nobody is allowed to make legal decisions before eating. This apparently includes divorce. —G
I stared at the word.
Divorce.
Not annulment.
Interesting.
I found him on the balcony.
Suit pants.
White shirt.
Sleeves rolled.
Coffee.
Vegas morning stretched behind him.
“You’re awake.”
“You sound surprised.”
“You slept through Marcus knocking.”
“That man knocks like law enforcement.”
“He was law enforcement.”
“Explains everything.”
I sat.
For a moment, neither of us mentioned the marriage.
Instead we talked about Leonard.
Federal investigators had found years of evidence inside his private accounts.
Bribery.
Fraud.
Manipulated corporate records.
Sabotage.
Evidence related to Richard Reed’s death remained uncertain.
Daniel insisted Richard had been investigating Leonard when the crash occurred.
No evidence proved who cut the brake line.
Maybe someday they would know.
Maybe not.
Conrad faced obstruction charges for burying evidence.
Not murder.
Not theft.
Cowardice translated into law.
Thomas had testified.
The Elizabeth Reed Foundation now controlled $4.2 billion.
Thirty-eight billion more entered a restitution trust under independent oversight.
Graham’s family remained wealthy.
But not dynasty wealthy.
He seemed relieved.
“You lost most of your inheritance,” I said.
“I still own Reed Global stock.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I never wanted Harrison’s money.”
“Easy to say after losing it.”
He looked at me.
“Would you like some?”
I laughed.
“No.”
“Then we agree.”
My mother arrived later.
Alone.
I wasn’t ready to forgive her.
She knew that.
We talked anyway.
“I watched you,” she admitted.
My stomach tightened.
“Over the years?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“From a distance.”
“Birthdays?”
“Yes.”
“Graduations?”
“Some.”
“Emma’s wedding?”
“She isn’t married.”
“I was testing you.”
Mom almost smiled.
I didn’t.
“You let us grieve.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yes.”
“You could have found a way.”
“Maybe.”
“That’s the part I can’t forgive yet.”
“I know.”
“But I’m glad you’re alive.”
She cried.
So did I.
We held each other.
Forgiveness wasn’t complete.
But love survived incomplete things.
Maybe that was adulthood.
Conrad asked to see Graham that afternoon.
Graham invited me.
I almost refused.
Then remembered I was apparently incapable of avoiding Reed family meetings.
Conrad sat in a private conference room without lawyers.
He looked ten years older.
“My resignation is effective immediately.”
Graham nodded.
“I saw.”
“I won’t challenge your leadership again.”
“Good.”
“I owe Avery an apology.”
I crossed my arms.
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“I participated in a plan that put you in danger.”
“Yes.”
“I believed Leonard only intended to embarrass you.”
“That makes it worse, not better.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
“You whispered about the drive to frighten me.”
“Yes.”
“You helped create the board attack.”
“Yes.”
“You buried evidence about Richard.”
“Yes.”
I stared.
“Why should anyone trust you again?”
“They shouldn’t.”
That answer surprised me.
Conrad looked at Graham.
“I spent my entire life demanding recognition from dead men.”
Harrison.
Richard.
Maybe even himself.
“And it cost Elizabeth.”
His voice broke.
Thomas wasn’t there.
Maybe someday.
Not today.
“What will you do?” Graham asked.
“Cooperate.”
“With investigators?”
“With everyone.”
Conrad stood.
Then paused.
“Harrison once told me leadership was the art of ensuring nobody noticed your fear.”
He looked at Graham.
“I taught you the same thing.”
Graham’s face tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
Then Conrad left.
I looked at Graham.
“What?”
“You learned fear somewhere.”
He poured water.
“Apparently.”
“You don’t have to hide it from me.”
He looked at me.
“That sounds permanent.”
There it was.
The conversation.
No criminals.
No trust deadlines.
No kidnapped relatives.
Nothing to protect us from honesty.
I sat opposite him.
“We should probably discuss our marriage.”
“Yes.”
“Caroline sent paperwork.”
His expression remained neutral.
“What paperwork?”
“Annulment options.”
Tiny pause.
“And?”
“I didn’t sign.”
His eyes changed.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is a terrible reason to remain married.”
“I’m aware.”
He sat.
“Avery, I meant what I said.”
“About loving me?”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“But?”
“I won’t use that to keep you here.”
“I know.”
“If you leave, your position at Reed Global is protected.”
“Caroline already offered me three years’ severance.”
“She enjoys threatening me.”
“I noticed.”
“If you stay married because you think you owe me—”
“I don’t.”
“If you stay because your mother trusted my father—”
“I don’t.”
“If you stay because of the scandal—”
“Graham.”
He stopped.
“You’re terrible at romantic proposals.”
“This is not a proposal.”
“We’re already married.”
“Exactly.”
I smiled.
Then became serious.
“I don’t want to stay married because of what happened that night.”
Something fell in his expression.
I continued.
“I want to know whether I would choose you in daylight.”
He stared.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we date.”
“We’re married.”
“Yes.”
“And date.”
“Yes.”
“That seems backwards.”
“So was meeting your father’s allegedly dead chief of staff at our wedding.”
Fair.
“For how long?”
“Until I know.”
“And the marriage?”
“We don’t annul it yet.”
Hope appeared cautiously.
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
He almost smiled.
“Excellent foundation.”
“I’m honest.”
“I noticed.”
I stood.
“So, Mr. Reed.”
He looked up.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Do I need a reservation?”
“Probably.”
“Security?”
“Minimal.”
“Caroline?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Marriage attorney?”
“Graham.”
He smiled.
A real one.
“Yes.”
And just like that, our first date happened after our wedding.
May you like
Because apparently normal had never stood a chance.
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