New York Billionaires Series

After dinner, I join Freddie in the kitchen as she pours herself a glass of sparkling water. The men have moved back into the living room. “So,” she says. “You’re not too overwhelmed?”

I chuckle. “A little, perhaps, but in a good way.”

“I remember the feeling,” she says, leaning against the counter. “Although when Tristan and I first started dating, the others were all single.”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

“Acture was a bachelor’s club?”

She laughs. “Gosh, yes. I’m glad that’s changed.”

“Have you joined the team now?” I ask. She gives off the impression of a woman with ambition, and from what I overheard at the dinner table, she’s working with Tristan now on Acture’s latest acquisition.

Freddie gives a half-shake of her head. “In a way, I suppose. I was always interested in business strategy, and I spent the past two years at Exciteur-that’s the company Victor’s the CEO of, now-working on Strategy. Now I’m a consultant, really, for Acture. Tristan and I work well together.”

“That’s impressive,” I say. “Working with your husband?”

She smiles crookedly. “Some days it’s the best decision I’ve ever made, and others we both consider it a grave error. But overall… yes, it’s been great. Wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Summer and Cecilia join us, then, and the kitchen island shrinks. “Talking business?” Summer asks. “Please tell me you weren’t. The guys are, too, and I’ve already told them off twice.”

Freddie laughs. I twist my wineglass around in my hand, smiling at the other women. “That must be a common thing when you all meet?”

“It’s constant,” Cecilia says. “Sometimes I wonder if I married an Excel spreadsheet or a man.”

We all laugh at that. Summer reaches for a lime from the fruit bowl and searches through a drawer for a knife. “Time for more drinks,” she declares. “Audrey, what do you do?”

“I’m a journalist, actually.”

“Wow. Really?”

Freddie’s intelligent eyes meet mine. “What a coincidence,” she says, “considering Carter’s current project within Acture.”

I laugh weakly and look down at my hands. “Yeah. It’s funny.”

“Do you guys talk shop?”

“Sometimes we do, yes. I’m a big believer in traditional print media, in local journalism. The value it has for our cities and our country.”

She nods thoughtfully. “I agree with you on that, actually. I also think owning a newspaper long-term is a great move for Acture.”

A surprise ally! But before I can ask her why that is, Cecilia ushers us all back to the living room to, as she so lovingly puts it, halt the men’s workaholic tendencies. When they come within earshot, she looks over her shoulder at us with a meaningful expression. Listen to them, it says.

Snippets reach me too. “… the latest numbers were better, but still abysmal.”

“It’s turning a profit,” Carter says. “Slim, perhaps, but still.”

My feet slow on the hardwood floor. They’re discussing the Globe .

“Slim isn’t good enough,” Victor says. “Not long term. Traditional print media is an opportunity, sure, but also a huge liability.”

Anthony now. “Only two months left before the second quarter check-in. I’m still voting for selling it if the numbers aren’t better.”

“Seconded,” Victor says.

The voice I hear then is familiar. Achingly so. “I agree,” Carter says. “But I’m not ready to give up before then.”

Freddie walks around the room and comes to sit next to Tristan. He takes his wife’s hand absently and continues the conversation. “We could still sell it without a loss. Rosen Investing has made their interests clear.”

Carter sighs. “I know. Jacob Finch has been in contact. I’m keeping as much as I can intact, to keep the sale value high, just in case.”

Which means he’s keeping the profitable areas afloat. The ones a vulture fund like Rosen will strip and sell, dismantling the entire organization until there’s only a lonely reporter left in a newsroom to cover all story beats and subscribers facing ever-higher prices. Driving it into bankruptcy and skipping away into the sunset with the profitable corpse.

The exact thing he’d promised he wouldn’t do, would never do. But they’re discussing it like it’s a possibility.

More than a possibility.

A likelihood.

A sickness claws its way up my throat. Carter hadn’t told me everything, it seems. Only what I wanted to hear, back when he convinced me he wasn’t like this. Anger rushes through me. At him, and at me, for thinking this would be an exception.

That he would be an exception.

“Audrey,” Summer calls. “Come join us.”

I force my feet to move. Carter looks over his shoulder, eyes meeting mine, and there’s an apology there. He knows I overheard. I sit down next to him on wooden legs, focusing on the drink in my hand.

Victor had called stealing another man’s date diabolical, but it’s not. This is. They’re considering stripping this city of one of its oldest and finest newspapers.

I’d defended Carter and his executive team’s vision to Declan over lunch, just yesterday.

“Audrey,” Carter whispers at my side. His hand reaches for my leg, as if to rest it there. I cross them out of his reach.

“I know I’ve already thanked you all for coming,” Tristan says. He has a hand on Freddie’s shoulder, but the smile on his face gives me pause. Something’s happening, and I wish I could take it in, but all I hear are Carter’s words on repeat. It’s a possibility.

He’d told me it wasn’t.

“You’re getting your vows renewed, too,” Carter guesses. “Is this a new trend?” His voice is as charming as ever, dry and joking, and the others laugh.

I wonder if they can hear the tension beneath it too.

“Not quite,” Freddie says. “We just wanted to… ah shoot, now this is a big thing. I suppose it is, but we just wanted to tell you that, if all goes well, the Conways will go from three to four in a few months.”

“Oh my God,” Cecilia whispers.

Summer bounds out of her chair to wrap her arms around Freddie. “You’re pregnant!”

Freddie laughs. “Yes.”

In the flurry of excitement and hugs, masculine claps on the back and Tristan’s proud smile, I feel like a sudden imposter. Not alienated from them… but from the man at my side.