I blinked, unsure whether she was fucking with me or deadly serious. It was always hard to tell with Isabella. “Um…”

“Think about it.” She glanced to the side, clearly distracted by the arrival of another movie star. “I’ll send you her backlist so you can get a feel for her books. I really think it’ll be a fun event!”

Then she was gone, leaving me to shake my head. “I thought she was going to ask me to host a preview of her new book, not Wilma Pebbles’s.”

“Oh, Isa’s love for dino erotica runs far deeper than her own career ambitions,” Sloane said, her grin widening. “Trust me.”

For my own sake, I declined to ask for further information.

Halfway through the night, Sloane and I split to mingle with different guests. I personally thanked everyone who’d helped me get the Vault off the ground, including Dominic Davenport, who seemed to be surgically attached to his wife’s side, and Sebastian, who’d pulled through with the catering.

“You pulled this off, man.” Sebastian clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Now I owe Russo ten grand.”

“You bet against me?” I asked with mock offense.

“I had faith in you, but Luca’s usually wrong.” He laughed. He glanced over my shoulder, and his smile turned into a smirk. “Speaking of Russos, I’ll leave you to this one. Good luck.”

He disappeared before I could respond, and Dante took his place.

We hadn’t talked since his holiday gala, but he appeared much more at ease tonight than he had at Valhalla. Perhaps he was finally settling into the rhythm of parenthood, or perhaps it was the near-empty glass of scotch in his hand.

“This is impressive,” he said, skipping the standard greetings. “I had my doubts about you, but you pulled it off.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” I grumbled, but it was hard to stay annoyed when the night was going so well. “Thank you.”

Dante inclined his head, his gaze flicking to the bar where Vivian was talking to Sloane, Isabella, and Alessandra. It lingered on his wife for a soft moment before it returned to me and hardened.

“I have to admit, part of me was hoping you’d fail,” Dante said with surprising frankness. “I haven’t forgotten about Vegas, Miami, or the dozens of questionable situations you’ve dragged Luca into. However…” His voice turned dry. “If my brother can clean up his act after years of useless partying, I suppose you can too.”

Dante Russo, the king of backhanded compliments.

“I wouldn’t say the partying was useless,” I drawled. “It gave me the experience I needed to do this.” I gestured around us.

Dante’s eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. Then, to my shock, he let out a genuine-sounding laugh.

“Keep that same energy tomorrow,” he said, brushing past me to rejoin Vivian. “You’ll need it.”

Tomorrow. My first evaluation. The fate of eight billion dollars.

I would be lying if I said my stomach didn’t sink an inch at the reminder, but tomorrow was tomorrow. I’d done my best, and there was nothing I could do between now and morning that would move the needle in a meaningful manner.

So instead of worrying, I grabbed a drink from a passing server’s tray, tossed it back, and simply enjoyed the rest of the night.

I’d earned it.

Judgment Day took place the following morning via videoconference. Considering the pomp and circumstance that surrounded the reading of my father’s will, it seemed pretty anticlimactic for the fate of eight billion dollars to be decided over Zoom, but everyone was too busy to travel to Bogotá for an in-person gathering, so Zoom it was.

Sloane and I were both at my house, but for optics reasons, we took the call in separate rooms. I was in the library; she was in the living room.

Five faces stared back at me from the screen as I explained my business plan, my rebuilding efforts after the fire, and the opening’s smash success. The only thing I didn’t tell them was the fire sabotage part. Alex had sworn me to secrecy, and it’d raise more questions than it answered, especially after he told me he found the saboteur but “couldn’t disclose their identity at this time.” All he said was they had ties to a mercenary group that was targeting certain members of the business community for “confidential reasons.”

Part of me wanted details so I could take revenge on the person who’d caused so much strife, but a larger part was happy to keep the fire in my past and let the professionals deal with it.

General rule of life: don’t go looking for more problems than you already had.

After I finished my spiel, Mariana spoke first. “Before we proceed with our evaluation, we would be remiss if we didn’t acknowledge the biases of certain committee members.”

The chairwoman of the Castillo Group’s board was petite and sturdy-looking with glossy black hair and an air of authoritative competence. She’d never liked me; she thought my behavior reflected poorly on the company, and while she wasn’t exactly wrong, I wasn’t going to let her railroad this meeting or slander Sloane’s character.

Obviously, that was who she was talking about; Mariana was staring straight at Sloane’s square on the screen. To her credit, Sloane didn’t blink an eye at the scrutiny, but I was less forgiving. “I assume you’re referring to my relationship with Sloane. If so, that’s a non-issue,” I said coolly. “Were it an actual issue, you or another committee member should’ve raised your concerns beforehand.”

Mariana gave me a thin smile. “I’m not accusing anyone of anything,” she said, her tone matching mine. “I’m simply reminding all those present that you two are, in fact, dating, and anything Ms. Kensington says will be influenced by that relationship.”

“You’re right.” Sloane cut in before anyone else could respond. Her eyes glinted, and I hid a sudden smile. Mariana was about to get her ass handed to her. “What I say will be influenced by our relationship. I’ve worked with Xavier for three and a half years, and I’m the only person on this call that has watched him build the Vault from the ground up. I’ve watched him grow from a hedonistic degenerate—”

Whoa, a bit harsh, but okay.

“To someone with passion, pride, purpose. That’s the man I fell in love with, and when I cast my vote, those will be the reasons behind it. My vote won’t be biased because I’m dating him; it’ll be biased because I know firsthand how hard he’s worked to launch the Vault. If he wasn’t the type of man who’d do that, we wouldn’t be dating in the first place.” Sloane pinned Mariana with a steady gaze. “Alberto’s will stated Xavier ‘must fulfill the chief executive officer position to the best of his abilities.’ In my opinion, he’s done that and more.” She addressed the rest of the committee. “It should come as no surprise, then, that I vote yes.”

My hidden smile blossomed into a full-fledged grin.

In five minutes, Sloane had undercut Mariana’s sneak attack, redirected the committee’s attention to the purpose of this call, and added the first tally in my column.

That’s my girl.

Mariana looked like she’d swallowed a gallon of raw lemon juice, but there was nothing else she could say on the topic.

The vote proceeded apace.

“I agree with Sloane’s judgment,” Eduardo said. “What Xavier has accomplished in six months is extraordinary, and the coverage has been glowing. I also vote yes.”

My heart rattled in anticipation.

Two out of five. One more vote, and I was in the clear.

“The timeline is impressive, but I’m not convinced of the Vault’s longevity,” Mariana said. “Nightclubs come and go, and in my opinion, it’s a lazy concept to start with. Despite having a silent partner, you answer largely to yourself. There’s no board, no shareholders, nothing you’re truly the CEO of. Fulfilling CEO duties to the best of your ability means choosing something that isn’t an easy win. I vote no.”

Easy win? I locked an acerbic reply behind clenched teeth. Arguing wouldn’t be smart, but she was voting in bad faith. I’d also addressed her later concern in my presentation, which included plans for expansion if the New York location was successful enough.

But I hadn’t expected Mariana to vote yes anyway, so I didn’t push back.

The next vote, however, did shock me. “I’m sorry, Xavier,” Tío Martin said. A feeling of dread curdled in my chest. “As proud as I am personally, Mariana made some good points. I also vote no.” He didn’t elaborate or meet my eyes, and I knew with sudden certainty that, for all his fairness, he wasn’t immune to domestic manipulation. He’d obviously voted no to placate Tía Lupe. Two versus two. It was a tie, and there was one vote left. All eyes swung toward Dante.

He rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, his expression pensive. Our short conversation last night gave me some hope, but I had no idea whether it was enough to overcome his long-seated dislike toward me.

The minutes ticked by.