CHAPTER 21 - Consequences

Damien POV

The first sign that Marcus Blackwood wasn't bluffing came at eleven AM in the form of federal agents walking into the Cross-Sterling Industries lobby with warrants and bad attitudes.

I was in Isabella's office, watching her review integration plans for our merged departments, when Sarah Martinez burst through the door with the kind of panic that made my blood run cold.

"Sir, we have a situation," she said breathlessly. "FBI and SEC agents just served warrants for financial records related to the merger. They're claiming possible securities fraud and market manipulation."

Isabella looked up from her documents, her green eyes sharpening with the kind of focused intensity that meant someone was about to get destroyed.

"What kind of securities fraud?" she asked.

"The kind where they claim the merger was orchestrated to artificially inflate stock prices and defraud investors," Sarah replied grimly. "They want every communication between Cross Enterprises and Sterling Industries dating back six months."

Six months. That would include every hostile takeover document, every strategic plan, every piece of evidence that could be twisted to make our merger look like a elaborate conspiracy.

"Blackwood," I said quietly, the name tasting like poison in my mouth.

"Has to be," Isabella agreed, standing and moving to the window overlooking the lobby. "Look at the timing. We remove his allies from the board this morning, he unleashes federal investigators this afternoon."

I joined her at the window, noting the way federal agents were herding employees away from their computers while others carried out boxes of documents. The efficient, methodical destruction of everything we'd built in the past twenty-four hours.

"They can't find anything illegal," Isabella said, but I caught the uncertainty in her voice. "The merger was completely legitimate."

"Legitimate isn't the same as unassailable," I replied grimly. "With the right spin, our timeline could look suspicious. Cross Enterprises attacks Sterling Industries for months, then suddenly offers a generous merger just as you and I become romantically involved again."

"So what do we do?"

"We lawyer up, we cooperate fully, and we pray that our communications don't contain anything that can be taken out of context." I pulled out my phone to call our legal team, but another thought occurred to me. "Isabella, I need you to think carefully. Is there anything in your personal communications that could be problematic? Text messages, emails, anything that references our relationship or the merger plans?"

Her face went pale. "Last night. After the Blackwood meeting. I texted Marcus about feeling conflicted about trusting you."

Fuck. A text message expressing doubt about my motives, sent hours before we announced the merger, could be interpreted as evidence that she'd been coerced or manipulated.

"What exactly did you say?"

"That I wasn't sure if the merger was about business or revenge. That I was afraid you were using me." She closed her eyes. "Oh God, they're going to use it to claim I was under duress."

"Not if we control the narrative first." I was already speed-dialing our crisis management team. "We're going to be completely transparent. Full cooperation, open books, emphasis on the fact that this merger saved Sterling Industries from bankruptcy."

Before I could complete the call, Marcus Chen appeared in the doorway with the kind of expression that meant more bad news.

"The SEC agents want to interview both of you," he said. "Separately. Today."

"On what grounds?" Isabella asked.

"They're claiming your merger announcement yesterday was designed to manipulate stock prices and prevent legitimate board oversight." Marcus handed us each a legal notice. "They want to know if there was coordination between Cross Enterprises and Sterling Industries before the official merger negotiations."

Coordination. Like the fact that I'd been buying Sterling Industries stock for months while simultaneously attacking their business. Like the fact that Isabella and I had been meeting privately to discuss the company's future. Like the fact that our romantic relationship had resumed just as the merger talks began.

All completely legal, but suspicious as hell when viewed through the lens of federal investigators looking for a conspiracy.

"How long do we have?" I asked.

"They want you both downtown in two hours," Marcus replied. "I've already called our best securities lawyers, but..."

"But they're fishing," Isabella finished. "Hoping we'll say something that confirms their suspicions."

"Exactly. Which means we stick to the facts, keep our answers brief, and don't volunteer information they haven't specifically requested."

I watched Isabella process the implications, saw the moment she realized that our victory this morning had turned into a potential catastrophe this afternoon.

"There's something else," Sarah said quietly. "The financial networks are already running stories about the federal investigation. Stock prices for both companies are dropping."

Of course they were. Nothing killed market confidence like the suggestion that a major merger might be based on fraud.

"How bad?" Isabella asked.

"Cross-Sterling Industries has lost twelve percent of its value in the past hour," Sarah replied. "And it's accelerating."

Twelve percent of three billion dollars. Even for someone with my resources, that kind of loss was painful.

"This is what Blackwood wanted all along," I said grimly. "He couldn't stop the merger, so he's trying to destroy us financially instead."

"Can he do that?" Isabella asked.

"If the investigation drags on for months, if our stock price continues to fall, if major clients start questioning our stability..." I didn't need to finish the sentence. Corporate death by a thousand cuts was just as effective as a hostile takeover.

My phone rang. The caller ID showed a number I didn't recognize, but something about it made my blood run cold.

"Cross," I answered.

"Hello, Damien." Marcus Blackwood's voice was smooth as silk and twice as deadly. "I trust you're enjoying your federal investigation."

"You son of a bitch," I growled, but he just laughed.

"Now, now. Such language. I'm simply a concerned citizen reporting suspicious activity to the appropriate authorities."

"What do you want?"

"What I've always wanted. Sterling Industries. And now, thanks to your merger, I get Cross Enterprises as a bonus." His voice carried the satisfaction of a man who'd just won a chess match in ten moves. "The investigation will drag on for months, your stock prices will continue to fall, and eventually your investors will demand new leadership."

"And you'll be waiting with a rescue offer," Isabella said loudly enough for him to hear.

"Ms. Sterling! I didn't realize you were listening. Yes, I'll be waiting. And when your companies are sufficiently desperate, I'll make an offer that's generous enough to look like salvation and comprehensive enough to give me everything I want."

"We'll fight you," I said.

"Of course you will. And you'll lose. Because fighting a federal investigation while trying to run a business is like performing surgery with one hand tied behind your back. Even if you're eventually cleared of wrongdoing, the damage will be done."

The line went dead, leaving us with the sickening certainty that we'd walked directly into a trap that had been months in the making.

"He's been planning this," Isabella said quietly. "The board challenge, the merger timeline, everything. He wanted us to move fast so it would look suspicious."

"And we gave him exactly what he needed," I agreed grimly. "A rushed merger announcement, a romantic relationship that could be portrayed as coercive, and a timeline that screams conspiracy."

Isabella sank into her chair, the weight of what we were facing finally settling on her shoulders.

"What if we can't beat this?" she asked. "What if the investigation destroys both companies?"

I moved around her desk, pulling her into my arms despite the fact that federal agents were probably taking pictures through the windows.

"Then we go down fighting," I said firmly. "Together. But Isabella, I need you to know something before we walk into those interviews."

"What?"

"Everything they're going to imply about my motives, everything Blackwood said about revenge and manipulation... there's truth in it." I felt her stiffen in my arms, but I continued. "I did plan to destroy Sterling Industries. I did orchestrate attacks on your company. I did use our history to get close to you."

"Damien..."

"But I never planned to fall in love with you again," I said fiercely. "I never planned to want to protect you more than I wanted revenge. And I sure as hell never planned to risk everything I'd built just to keep you safe."

She pulled back to look at me, her green eyes bright with unshed tears.

"So what changed?"

"You did. The moment I saw you in that conference room, fighting for your company and your people, I remembered why I fell in love with you in the first place. You're fierce and brilliant and brave enough to stare down federal investigators without blinking."

"I'm terrified," she admitted.

"Good. Terrified means you understand what we're up against." I cupped her face in my hands. "But we're going to survive this. We're going to beat Blackwood at his own game and come out stronger than before."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I've got something he doesn't have," I said, pressing my forehead against hers.

"Which is?"

"You. And you're worth more than all the money and power in the world."

Before she could respond, Sarah appeared in the doorway again.

"The cars are here," she said quietly. "The lawyers are waiting downstairs."

Isabella straightened her shoulders, transforming from vulnerable woman to corporate warrior in the space of a heartbeat.

"Ready to go to war?" she asked.

"With you? Always."

We walked out of Sterling Tower together, past federal agents and news cameras and the kind of media circus that could destroy careers and reputations. But I wasn't afraid.

Marcus Blackwood thought he'd won by forcing us into a federal investigation. He thought the threat of criminal charges would make us desperate enough to surrender.

He was about to learn that some people were most dangerous when they had nothing left to lose.

Isabella POV

The FBI field office looked exactly like every government building I'd ever seen - sterile, intimidating, and designed to make civilians feel like criminals before they'd even been accused of anything.

I sat in an interview room that smelled like stale coffee and desperation, facing two federal agents who looked like they'd stepped out of a recruitment poster. Agent Sarah Collins was blonde, sharp-eyed, and approximately my age, which somehow made her more threatening than her older male partner.

"Ms. Sterling," Agent Collins began, setting a thick file on the metal table between us. "We appreciate you coming in voluntarily to discuss the recent merger between Sterling Industries and Cross Enterprises."

"I'm happy to cooperate with your investigation," I replied, keeping my voice level despite the fact that my heart was racing. "Though I'm not sure what you think you're going to find."

"We're investigating potential securities fraud and market manipulation related to the timing and circumstances of your merger announcement," Agent Collins said smoothly. "Specifically, whether there was coordination between the two companies before official negotiations began."

Coordination. The loaded word that could turn months of strategic planning into evidence of conspiracy.

"Cross Enterprises made an unsolicited offer to acquire Sterling Industries," I said carefully. "We evaluated the offer and determined that a merger would be in the best interests of our shareholders and employees."

"Yet according to our records, Cross Enterprises spent months conducting what could be characterized as a hostile takeover attempt before suddenly offering generous merger terms." Agent Collins opened the file, revealing documents I recognized. "Can you explain that change in strategy?"

"You'd have to ask Mr. Cross about his company's strategic decisions," I replied. "Sterling Industries simply responded to the offers we received."

"But you have a personal relationship with Mr. Cross, don't you?" The question was delivered with surgical precision, designed to cut to the heart of their investigation.

"I've known Damien Cross for several years, yes."

"Several years? According to our research, you two had a romantic relationship seven years ago, when he worked for your father. Is that correct?"

There it was. The connection they wanted to establish between personal feelings and business decisions.

"That's correct," I said simply.

"And when did your romantic relationship resume?"

The trap was beautifully laid. Answer too early, and it suggested the merger was motivated by personal feelings. Answer too late, and it suggested I was lying about the timeline.

"We reconnected recently," I said carefully.

"How recently? Before or after merger discussions began?"

I met Agent Collins' gaze directly. "I fail to see how my personal life is relevant to a securities investigation."

"It's relevant because it goes to motive," she replied smoothly. "A merger between two companies is unusual enough. A merger between two companies whose CEOs are romantically involved raises questions about whether business decisions were made in the best interests of shareholders or for personal reasons."

"The merger was made in the best interests of Sterling Industries' shareholders, employees, and clients," I said firmly. "As evidenced by the fact that it saved the company from bankruptcy."

Agent Collins flipped through more documents, and I recognized financial reports that should have been confidential.

"According to these records, Sterling Industries was indeed facing financial difficulties. But there's evidence that some of those difficulties were caused by Cross Enterprises' actions. Doesn't it strike you as convenient that the company attacking yours suddenly offered to save it?"

"Business is complicated," I replied. "Companies that compete in one area often find opportunities to collaborate in another."

"Is that what you'd call this? Collaboration?"

"I'd call it smart business."

The interview continued for another hour, with Agent Collins probing every aspect of the merger timeline, looking for evidence that Damien and I had coordinated our actions or that I'd been coerced into accepting his offer.

By the time they finally released me, I felt like I'd been through a corporate colonoscopy. Every decision, every conversation, every moment of doubt had been dissected and analyzed for signs of criminal intent.

Damien was waiting for me in the lobby, his gray eyes dark with concern.

"How bad?" he asked quietly as we walked to the car.

"Bad. They have financial records, communication logs, probably surveillance footage of us together." I slumped against the leather seat, exhaustion hitting me like a physical weight. "They're building a case that the merger was either fraudulent or coercive."

"What did you tell them?"

"The truth. That Sterling Industries needed capital, Cross Enterprises offered it, and we made a business decision based on what was best for our shareholders."

"And our relationship?"

"I told them it was personal and irrelevant to business decisions." I looked at him, noting the tension around his eyes. "What did they ask you?"

"Everything. The timeline of my attacks on Sterling Industries, when I decided to offer a merger, how our personal relationship influenced my business strategy." He was quiet for a moment. "They know, Isabella. They know I spent months planning to destroy your company before changing course."

"Can they prove criminal intent?"

"They don't need to prove criminal intent. They just need to prove that we coordinated our actions in a way that misled investors or manipulated stock prices." Damien's hand found mine, his fingers intertwining with desperate strength. "And if they can do that..."

"We go to prison."

The words hung between us like a death sentence. Federal securities fraud charges carried serious jail time, and even if we were eventually acquitted, the legal process would destroy both our companies and our reputations.

"There's something else," Damien said quietly. "Sarah called while you were in your interview. Three major clients have already pulled their contracts, citing concerns about management stability."

Three major clients. Millions in revenue, gone because of suspicion and fear.

"How long do we have?" I asked.

"Before we're completely destroyed? If the investigation drags on for months, if more clients flee, if our stock price continues to fall..." He didn't need to finish the sentence.

Marcus Blackwood had been right. Fighting a federal investigation while trying to run a business was like performing surgery with one hand tied behind your back.

"So what do we do?"

Damien was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the city that had witnessed our rise and might soon witness our fall.

"We do what we should have done from the beginning," he said finally. "We stop playing defense and go on the attack."

"Against the federal government?"

"Against Marcus Blackwood." Damien's smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "Because he made one mistake in his perfect plan."

"Which was?"

"He assumed we'd be too afraid of prison to fight back." Damien turned to face me, his gray eyes blazing with the kind of determination that had built a billion-dollar empire. "But some things are worth risking everything for."

"Like what?"

"Like love. Like justice. Like making sure that bastard pays for every life he's destroyed in pursuit of power."

Before I could ask what he meant, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:

"The investigation is just the beginning. Wait until you see what I have planned next. - M.B."

I showed the message to Damien, watching his expression harden into something that looked like murder.

"Let him come," he said quietly. "Because Marcus Blackwood is about to learn what happens when you threaten everything I care about."

Outside the car windows, the city sparkled with late afternoon light, and somewhere in the distance, our enemy was planning his next move.

But for the first time since this nightmare began, I wasn't afraid.

I was angry. And angry was so much more useful than afraid.