Chapter 5

Turning the Davenport partnership into reality was a different beast entirely from announcing it. I was at the office until midnight most days. Garrett sent photos — him and whatever woman was next, at hotels and restaurants and health spas — to my phone at intervals. I ignored all of them.

He came in person once, settling into the sofa with the particular ease of a man who still considered himself at home.

"Jenna, be honest with yourself. Davenport is only interested in you because I was here holding Holloway together. What do you think happens when those stalled projects officially collapse? Do you think Felix stays interested when the numbers fall apart?"

"Stop performing. Holloway needs me. You need me."

"Garrett," I said, "you always forget: I asked you to run this place because I didn't feel like doing it myself. Not because I couldn't. There's a difference."

"More than half of Ashford Holdings is in your brother's hands now. Ask yourself honestly: which of us needs the other more?"

"What gave you the impression I was asking you to stay?"

He pivoted. "You're angry because I made you apologise to Lily that night. You felt like she got one over on you. Fine — I'll replace her and you can get your satisfaction that way. But I'll always have someone. That's my bottom line. Learn to live with it, and we can talk."

I held his gaze for a moment.

"The director's office is no longer yours, Garrett. I won't see you out. But don't come back."

He left with a parting shot — something about ingratitude — and within the week, every stalled project had formally announced its separation from Holloway.

Each time, Garrett messaged to ask if I'd reconsidered.

I never replied.

A few of those projects — the ones run by people who'd done their homework — quietly reached out to me directly, bypassing Garrett entirely.

The fallout was real. The consequences were manageable.