Elise’s laugh is harsh.
“No,” she says. “He decided we were inevitable. Like… like it was a merger.”
She swallows. “When my father’s health declined, Álvaro moved in with his ‘help.’ He made sure every debt my father owed was owed to him.”
You feel sick.
“And your father let him?”
Elise’s eyes flash with pain.
“My father is proud,” she says. “He didn’t want anyone to know he was vulnerable.”
Her voice breaks, barely. “Álvaro used that.”
You stand beside her, the city air cooling the heat of the party off your skin.
“Elise,” you say softly, “why me?”
She turns, and you see it: the real fear under her composure.
“Because he doesn’t respect you,” she says honestly.
“And that’s exactly why you’re dangerous.”
The words hit you strangely.
Not flattering.
Infuriating.
“So I’m your surprise weapon,” you mutter.
Elise’s gaze holds yours.
“Yes,” she says.
Then, quieter: “And because you’re the only person in that firm who looks at me like I’m human when you think I can’t see it.”
Your throat tightens.
You want to deny it, but you can’t.
You’ve watched her work herself into exhaustion, you’ve covered her mistakes when she was too proud to admit them, you’ve printed decks at 2 a.m. because she refused to let anyone know she needed help.
You’ve been invisible on purpose because being seen felt like risk.
And now Elise is looking at you like she’s asking you to hold the weight she can’t carry alone.
“What do you need from me next?” you ask.
Elise exhales.
“We need Ernesto’s signature tonight,” she says.
“And we need to keep Álvaro from getting me alone.”
You nod.
“Then we stay glued together,” you say.
“Like an HR nightmare.”
Elise’s mouth twitches.
It’s almost a smile.
You go back inside, and you do the work of being convincing.
You laugh at Elise’s dry comments.
You lean close when she speaks.
You touch her lower back when you guide her through the crowd, and every time you do you feel her flinch less.
People stare.
People whisper.
People message each other under the table like they’re live-tweeting a scandal.
You don’t care.
Because you can feel Álvaro watching from across the room, and you can feel the threat in his patience.
An hour passes.
Then another.
Ernesto finally approaches again, drink in hand, expression thoughtful.
“Julián,” he says, “walk with me.”
Elise’s fingers tighten on yours under the pretense of casual touch.
You squeeze back once, letting her know you’re not leaving her.
Ernesto leads you to a quieter corner.
“I’m going to be blunt,” he says.
You nod.
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Ernesto studies you.
“You’ve been underestimated,” he says.
“And you’ve let it happen.”
He tilts his head. “Why change now?”
You glance toward Elise, who is pretending to laugh with colleagues while keeping her eyes on you like a lifeline.
You swallow.
“Because I’m tired,” you say.
“Tired of doing partner-level work while being treated like furniture.”
You pause. “And because I care what happens to this firm.”
Ernesto’s eyes narrow.
“Do you care,” he says, “because of Elise?”
You don’t flinch.
“Yes,” you say simply.
“Because she’s trying to keep this place from being sold to people who will gut it.”
Ernesto’s expression softens slightly, then turns serious again.
“Álvaro has been pushing,” he admits.
“He wants influence.”
He looks at Elise, then back at you. “And Elise wants… escape.”
“Freedom,” you say quietly.
Ernesto studies you for a long moment.
Then he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a pen.
“You’re asking for something that doesn’t exist on paper,” he says.
“But I believe you’ve earned it.”
He pauses. “And if Elise is truly choosing you, that tells me something about her judgment.”
Your heart slams against your ribs.
He takes the envelope Elise gave you, breaks the seal, and signs with a calm flourish.
“There,” Ernesto says, handing it back.
“Now don’t make me regret it.”
You take the letter with hands that feel suddenly unsteady.
“Thank you,” you manage.
Ernesto nods once and walks away like he didn’t just rearrange your life.
You turn toward Elise, envelope in hand, and your pulse is roaring.
But Elise’s eyes aren’t on the envelope.
They’re on Álvaro.
Because Álvaro is walking toward you again, and this time he isn’t smiling.
He stops in front of you, close enough to feel the heat of his anger.
“You think you’ve won,” he says quietly.
You keep your face calm.
“I’m not competing with you,” you reply.
“I’m protecting her.”
Álvaro’s eyes flick toward Elise.
“Protection,” he repeats, amused.
He leans in slightly, voice lowering. “Do you know what I can do to you?”
You hold his gaze.
“You mean what you can do to my job?” you ask.
You lift the envelope slightly, just enough to make a point without announcing it. “That ship just moved.”
Álvaro’s eyes flash as he recognizes what you’re holding.
His jaw tightens, and the veneer finally cracks.
“You signed him,” he says to Elise, voice sharp.
Elise’s shoulders straighten.
“Yes,” she replies. “I did.”
Álvaro’s gaze flicks to you again.
“Congratulations,” he says, and it sounds like a curse.
Then he turns to Elise, smile gone. “This isn’t over.”
Elise’s voice is ice again, but it’s different now.
Not defensive.
Armed.
“It is,” she says.
“Because tonight I file the restructuring documents.”
She takes a slow breath. “And tomorrow I go to the board with counsel.”
Álvaro laughs, harsh.
“You think the board will choose you over me?” he scoffs.
