Your last name is both an advantage and a detriment. Some board members favor you because you’re a Young and they value stability. But others resent you for that very reason. They’re using the DigiStream delay and your…modern views regarding the future of the company to advocate for fresh blood. That faction is growing louder by the day.”
A chill swept through the air and sank into my bones. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying you need to stop coasting on your name and record and start placating some of your naysayers, or you could very well lose the vote.”
The word lose tore through me like a fanged beast.
History remembered the winners. The losers faded into obscurity, their names lost over time like statues rubbed smooth by too many hands. Dead in every way, as if they’d never existed.
Pressure suffocated my chest.
“I’m not going to lose,” I said, my voice colder than intended. “I never do.”
“Make sure you don’t.” My mother didn’t look entirely convinced. “I’ve already said more than I should. I’m supposed to be neutral, but this is our family name on the line. Imagine what people will say if a Young loses the CEO position of Young Corporation. We’ll never recover from the shame.”
She fixed me with the same no-bullshit stare that had enemies and allies alike trembling before her.
“Campaign for the job, Kai. Do what it takes to make them happy. I know you think it’s beneath you, but don’t let your pride get in the way of winning. Not unless you want Tobias giving you orders from the corner office.”
My stomach revolted.
I hated the word campaign almost as much as the word lose. It was so…undignified. The fake smiles, the ass-kissing, the platitudes both parties knew but didn’t acknowledge as lies.
But my mother knew exactly which buttons to push; I would rather swallow a vial of poison than take a single order from Tobias Foster.
The frigid night air cooled my anger when I stepped outside. Still, unease roiled beneath my skin, and returning home to my apartment didn’t hold the same appeal it usually did.
I took out my phone and opened my latest message thread.
Me: Are you still at Valhalla?
I should’ve been tapped out on socializing, but talking to Isabella never drained me the way talking to other people did.
Isabella: Nope, I just got home
Isabella: I don’t have a shift tonight…
The implied invitation was clear.
Me: I’ll be there in twenty minutes
CHAPTER 20
Isabella
The doorbell rang at five to ten, exactly twenty minutes after I texted Kai my address.
My heart flipped when I opened the door and found him standing in the hall, hair tousled and cheeks ruddy from the wind. Seeing him in person for the first time in almost a week was like taking the first gasp of air after holding my breath for too long.
Cool euphoria flooded my lungs.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly.
A smile curved his lips. “Hi.”
“Did anyone ever tell you your punctuality is terrifying?”
“Not in so many words, no.” He gave a casual shrug. “If it’s an issue, I can leave and come back —”
“Don’t you dare.” I grabbed his wrist and dragged him, laughing, into the apartment. “And don’t look so pleased with yourself. I just didn’t want my apartment cleanup to go to waste.”
Kai looked even more pleased. “You cleaned up for me? I’m flattered.”
Blood rose to my neck and chest. If he touched me right now, he’d probably burn himself. It would serve him right. “I didn’t say that. It was due for some tidying up anyway. The timing is pure coincidence.”
“I see.”
“Anyway.” I ignored the knowing gleam in his eyes and deliberately turned my back to him. I swept an arm around the freshly tidied space. “Welcome to my humble abode. Six hundred square feet of rent-controlled luxury, right in the heart of the East Village.”
I’d lucked out on my studio apartment. A friend of a friend had lived here before they moved back to Arizona, and I’d snagged it before it went on the market. Sixteen hundred dollars for a downtown location with decent natural lighting, in-building laundry, and no roach or rat infestation? By New York standards, it was a steal.
Kai came up beside me and surveyed the little touches I’d added to make the apartment homier— the collection of shot glasses I’d acquired on my travels, the electric keyboard stashed beneath the window, the oil portrait Vivian and Sloane had commissioned as a joke for one of my birthdays. It depicted Monty as a Victorian aristocrat wearing a white ruffled collar. It was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever seen, and I loved it.
The studio was probably the size of Kai’s closet, but I was inordinately proud of it. It was mine, at least for as long as I could pay rent, and I’d made it my home in a city that chewed up and spit out starry-eyed newcomers faster than they could unpack their suitcases.
“This apartment is very you,” Kai observed, his warm, amused gaze alighting on the golden vase of peacock feathers by the door.
Something fluttered in my chest. “Thank you.”
Then, because it would be rude for me not to introduce the true lord of the house, I walked over to the vivarium and retrieved the ball python lounging amid the greenery.
“Meet Monty.” I’d bought him a few months after I moved to New York. Ball pythons were incredibly low maintenance and cheap to care for, which made them perfect for my bartender schedule and salary. Monty wasn’t as cuddly as a cat or dog, but it was nice to come home to a pet, even if all he did was eat, drink, and sleep.
He slithered over my shoulder and peered curiously at Kai, whose mouth flickered with a smile.
“Monty the python. Cute.”
“My father was a big Life of Brian fan,” I admitted. I wasn’t as devoted a fan, but I liked puns and my father would’ve gotten a hoot out of it, had he still been alive.
“Interesting. I figured you’d be a Pomeranian girl.”
“Because I’m adorable with great hair?”
“No, because you’re small and yappy.” Kai’s smile graduated into a laugh when I swatted his arm.
“Be nice, or I’ll sic Monty on you.”
“Quite a threat, but I’d be more concerned if he were a viper instead of a friendly ball python,”
Kai drawled.
As if to prove his point, Monty rubbed his head against Kai’s outstretched hand.
“Traitor,” I grumbled. “Who’s the one that feeds you?” But I couldn’t suppress my own smile at the adorable sight.
Most people were terrified of snakes because they thought they were ugly or venomous or evil.
Some snakes were, but judging an entire species by a few bad apples was like judging all humans by the serial killer population. It was grossly unfair, and I had a soft spot for anyone who treated Monty respectfully instead of looking like they wanted to call animal control on him the first chance they got.
After a few minutes, I placed Monty back in his vivarium, where he yawned and happily curled into a ball. He was well socialized and had a higher tolerance for being held than other snakes, but I tried not to stress him out with too much contact from strangers.
“How was the retreat?” I washed my hands and turned back to Kai, who rinsed after me. “Four days of leadership training sounds like a special torture method conjured in the depths of corporate hell.”