Chapter 16: Choice
1625words
I stood before the mirror in my apartment, adjusting the collar of my navy suit—professional, confident, appropriate for the businesswoman I had become. The woman who would present the Hamilton perspective to a room full of skeptical investors.
Not the woman who had once signed a contract to be Alexander Blackwood's wife.
My phone chimed with a text from Sophie: "Good luck today! Dad and I will be watching the livestream."
My father's health had improved enough for him to take an advisory role in Hamilton Holdings, his expertise and institutional knowledge proving invaluable as I navigated my new responsibilities. Our relationship had deepened through this shared work, the secrets between us finally cleared away.
Another text arrived, this one from Alexander: "Ready?"
Such a simple question, loaded with meaning beyond the shareholder vote. Was I ready for this merger? For the inevitable entanglement with Alexander it would bring? For whatever might come after?
"Ready," I replied, choosing to answer only the surface question.
The Blackwood International headquarters was buzzing with activity when I arrived—security checking credentials, shareholders registering for the vote, media setting up in designated areas. As a major figure in the proceedings, I was escorted directly to the preparation room where the key presenters were gathering.
Alexander was there, reviewing notes with his CFO. He looked up as I entered, his eyes warming slightly despite the professional setting.
"Elena," he greeted, crossing to shake my hand for the benefit of others present. "Everything set on your end?"
"All prepared," I confirmed. "Though I hear Richard is planning to attend."
Alexander nodded grimly. "His last stand. The board has suspended him pending the criminal investigation, but he remains a shareholder with the right to attend."
"Will that be a problem?"
"Nothing we can't handle," he assured me, his confidence steadying my nerves.
The auditorium filled quickly—hundreds of shareholders from both companies, board members, executives, and select media. From my seat on the stage, I could see Victoria slip in just before the doors closed, her expression tense as she took a seat near the back.
Alexander opened the proceedings with a masterful presentation of the merger's strategic rationale—his usual commanding presence amplified by genuine passion for the vision he was sharing. When he introduced me as "Elena Hamilton, heir to the Hamilton legacy and architect of this historic reunion," his pride seemed entirely genuine.
I took the podium, feeling the weight of expectation from the assembled shareholders. This wasn't just a business presentation—it was the fulfillment of a vision that had cost lives, separated families, and ultimately brought Alexander and me together through the strangest of circumstances.
"The Hamilton and Blackwood companies were always meant to be partners," I began, my voice steady despite the emotion behind the words. "Twenty-five years ago, our parents recognized the potential strength in unity. Today, we honor their vision while creating something even more powerful for the future."
As I outlined the financial projections, integration plans, and market opportunities, I was aware of Alexander watching me—not with the calculating assessment of a business partner, but with something deeper, more personal.
When the formal presentations concluded, the floor opened for questions. Most were technical, focused on synergies and timelines, until Richard Blackwood rose from his seat near the front.
"I have a question about the foundation of this merger," he announced, his voice carrying through the auditorium. "Specifically, about the relationship between the key architects."
Alexander tensed beside me, clearly anticipating what was coming.
"This merger," Richard continued, "is being presented as the fulfillment of a long-planned alliance between our families. Yet it's built on a fraud." He turned to face the assembled shareholders. "Their marriage is a sham! A contract arrangement with an expiration date, designed solely to secure Alexander's inheritance!"
Murmurs rippled through the audience. I glanced at Alexander, seeing the careful mask of control slip for just a moment to reveal genuine concern—not for himself or the company, but for me.
Before he could respond, I stepped forward to the microphone.
"Mr. Blackwood is partially correct," I said calmly, silencing the whispers. "When Alexander and I first came together, it was through a contract. A business arrangement designed to meet specific needs for both of us."
The honesty of my admission seemed to surprise Richard, who had clearly expected denials.
"However," I continued, holding Alexander's gaze as I spoke, "what Mr. Blackwood fails to understand is that contracts don't account for human emotion. They don't anticipate how two people might grow to respect each other, to trust each other, to care for each other beyond the terms of their agreement."
Alexander's expression softened, something like hope dawning in his eyes.
"Our beginning may have been unconventional," I acknowledged, turning back to the audience, "but the partnership we've built—both professional and personal—is entirely genuine. And it's that partnership which makes this merger not just financially sound, but right."
Richard's face contorted with fury. "Lies! All of it!" He lunged toward the stage, his movement so sudden that security couldn't intercept him before he reached the steps.
Alexander moved instantly, placing himself between Richard and me as his uncle advanced. "That's enough, Richard," he warned, his voice low but carrying in the shocked silence of the auditorium.
"You think you've won?" Richard snarled, his composure completely shattered. "You think you can just erase everything I've worked for? Everything I've sacrificed?"
"Like my parents?" Alexander asked quietly. "Like Elena's family? Those were sacrifices you chose to make, Richard. And now you'll answer for them."
With a wordless cry of rage, Richard charged forward. Alexander deflected the attack smoothly, but in the scuffle that followed, I caught a glimpse of metal in Richard's hand—a letter opener he must have taken from the registration desk.
"Alexander!" I cried in warning, but it was unnecessary. He had already seen the makeshift weapon and caught Richard's wrist, twisting until the older man dropped it with a cry of pain.
Security converged then, restraining Richard as he continued to shout accusations and threats. As they led him away, the auditorium erupted in shocked conversation.
Alexander turned to me immediately, his concern evident. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," I assured him, though my heart was racing from the confrontation. "Are you?"
He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "What you said—about contracts not accounting for human emotion..."
"It's true," I said simply. "They don't."
Before he could respond, the board chairman stepped to the microphone, calling for order. "In light of this... disruption, we will take a brief recess before proceeding to the vote. Please remain in the auditorium."
Alexander took my elbow, guiding me toward a private room off the main stage. Once inside, with the door closed against the chaos outside, he turned to me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
"Did you mean what you said out there?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion. "About what grew between us beyond the contract?"
I met his gaze steadily. "Every word."
"Elena," he began, then stopped, seeming to struggle for words—a rare occurrence for a man usually so articulate. "I've been trying to find the right way to say this, the right moment..."
"Say what?"
"That I love you." The words, spoken plainly without calculation or strategy, hung in the air between us. "That somewhere between the contract and now, I fell in love with you. And I've been terrified to admit it because I've never said those words to anyone before."
The confession—so at odds with the controlled businessman who had first proposed our arrangement—made my heart swell with emotion I'd been trying to suppress since walking away.
"I love you too," I admitted softly. "I think I have since London. Maybe before."
Alexander moved closer, his hand rising to cup my cheek with a gentleness that belied his strength. "I don't want a merger of convenience, Elena. I want a true partnership—in business and in life."
"No more contracts?" I asked, needing to be certain.
"No more contracts," he agreed. "Just this."
From his pocket, he withdrew a folded paper—not a legal document this time, but a handwritten note. "My vows," he explained. "Not legally binding terms, but promises I want to make to you. If you'll have me."
I took the paper with trembling fingers, reading the words he had written in his precise handwriting:
*I promise to trust you, even when trust doesn't come easily to me.*
*I promise to see you as a partner, never a possession.*
*I promise to remember that the most valuable things in life cannot be bought or contracted.*
*I promise to love you, Elena, not for one year or five, but for as long as you'll allow me to.*
Tears blurred my vision as I looked up from the paper to find Alexander watching me with unguarded vulnerability—the walls he'd built over a lifetime finally lowered completely.
"These are terms I can agree to," I whispered, reaching for him.
His arms encircled me, pulling me close as his lips found mine in a kiss that held none of the hesitation of London, none of the calculation of our public performances—just pure, honest emotion too powerful to be contained any longer.
When we finally broke apart, Alexander rested his forehead against mine. "We should get back. They'll be ready for the vote."
"Let them wait a minute longer," I murmured, keeping him close. "Some things are more important than business."
His smile—genuine, unguarded, transforming his usually serious face—was all the answer I needed.
