Chapter 8 - The Cost of Being SeenLiv learned quickly that strangers on the internet could develop surprisingly passionate opinions about a woman they had never met.
By twelve thirty, she was a gold digger.
By twelve forty-five, she was a genius social climber.
At one, someone claimed she had deliberately engineered the storm that stranded her and Dominic together.
Liv stared at that particular comment.
“How exactly would I control regional weather patterns?”
Jennifer looked over her shoulder.
“Seduction and meteorology. Very advanced.”
“I’m serious.”
“Never read comments.”
“You’re reading them.”
“I’m gathering evidence for future murders.”
Liv closed the browser.
“Margaret said the same thing.”
“About murder?”
“Comments.”
Jennifer pulled a chair beside her.
“You okay?”
Liv wanted to say yes.
She had been saying yes all day.
To Margaret.
To Dominic.
To reporters calling reception.
To coworkers awkwardly avoiding her.
Instead she said, “No.”
Jennifer nodded.
“Good.”
Liv looked at her.
“Apparently everyone has adopted Dominic’s emotional vocabulary.”
“It’s efficient.”
Liv rubbed her temples.
The article had taken several pieces of truth and arranged them into something ugly.
Dominic and Liv worked closely.
True.
They were dating.
True.
They had spent a night together during the storm.
Technically true.
The acquisition had stalled shortly afterward.
True.
Everything else was implication.
The article suggested Liv had influenced strategic decisions.
It suggested Dominic’s judgment had become compromised.
It mentioned his old reputation with women.
It mentioned Serena by name.
That part hurt.
Cain’s romantic history includes a broken engagement to Serena Vale, daughter of financier Charles Vale.
The article portrayed Serena as appropriate.
Liv as scandal.
She hated herself for noticing.
Dominic called for the sixth time.
Liv ignored it.
Jennifer stared at her phone.
“You know refusing to talk to your boyfriend while experiencing a crisis is exactly the behavior you accused him of, right?”
Liv glared.
“I liked you more before you became emotionally observant.”
“Answer.”
The phone rang again.
Liv accepted.
“What?”
“Where are you?”
“At my desk.”
“Why?”
“Because I work here.”
“Liv.”
“I’m not hiding in your office.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You were going to.”
“I was going to ask if you wanted lunch.”
“Oh.”
Pause.
“Did you think I wanted to hide you?”
She closed her eyes.
“No.”
“You did.”
“I’m having a bad day.”
“So am I.”
“I noticed.”
“Come downstairs.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because there are photographers outside.”
“I know.”
“I’m not walking into that circus.”
“Then I’ll come upstairs.”
“Dominic.”
“Choose.”
Liv sighed.
“Conference room C.”
“Two minutes.”
He arrived in ninety seconds.
Of course.
Dominic shut the door.
He looked exhausted but controlled.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Liv.”
“I’m tired of everyone saying my name like I’m an accessory to you.”
His expression tightened.
“Who?”
“The internet. Journalists. Half the building.”
“I can’t control the internet.”
“I know.”
“But I can control the building.”
“That’s exactly what I don’t want.”
He stopped.
Liv continued.
“If you start defending me every time someone whispers, you prove their point.”
“What point?”
“That I need your power.”
His frustration showed.
“So I’m supposed to stand there while people insult you?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Dominic.”
“No.”
She stared.
He ran a hand through his hair.
“I know intellectually that you can defend yourself. I’ve seen you destroy executives with a spreadsheet.”
“Then trust me.”
“I do.”
“Then let me handle what’s mine.”
He looked away.
Liv softened.
“And I’ll let you handle what’s yours.”
He returned his gaze.
“What’s mine?”
“The board.”
His expression darkened.
The board had called an emergency session for four.
Several members wanted Dominic temporarily removed from direct acquisition negotiations while the leak investigation continued.
“Come with me,” he said.
“To the board meeting?”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because my presence will make everything worse.”
“Your analysis identified the fabricated document.”
“And now they know I’m dating you.”
“So?”
“Dominic.”
He understood.
His jaw tightened.
“They’ll think I’m bringing my girlfriend to defend me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re more qualified than half of them to discuss the operational structure.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“That’s the problem.”
Silence.
Dominic looked wounded.
Liv immediately regretted the wording.
“I mean professionally.”
“I know.”
“You can’t use personal faith in me as professional evidence.”
His voice became quiet.
“Then how do I support you?”
The question surprised her.
Not how do I protect you.
How do I support you?
Liv thought.
“Give me room.”
He nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
“And don’t make decisions about my career because you feel guilty.”
“Okay.”
“And stop calling every five minutes.”
“That one is unreasonable.”
“Dominic.”
“Fine. Every ten.”
She almost smiled.
He came closer.
“Can I do one thing?”
“What?”
“Kiss you.”
Liv looked toward the glass walls.
“The blinds are open.”
“Everyone already knows.”
“That’s not an argument.”
He reached for the control and lowered the blinds.
“Problem solved.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Established.”
She let him kiss her.
It was brief.
Not dramatic.
The kind of kiss that said I’m here rather than I want you.
When he left, Liv felt steadier.
At two fifteen, Margaret called her into HR.
There was another woman present.
Dark suit.
Tablet.
Serious expression.
“This is Elaine Park,” Margaret said. “External employment counsel.”
Liv sat.
Her stomach tightened.
Elaine spoke.
“We’re conducting an independent review of your employment history.”
Liv’s hands became cold.
“Am I being investigated?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“To protect you.”
Liv almost laughed.
“I’m developing a dislike of that phrase.”
Elaine nodded.
“Fair.”
She slid a document across the table.
“We reviewed your performance evaluations, compensation history, responsibilities, promotion requests, and Dominic Cain’s direct involvement in decisions related to your employment.”
“And?”
“You’ve been under-titled for approximately eighteen months.”
Liv stared.
Margaret leaned forward.
“You’ve been performing strategic operations work far beyond your job description.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you request a promotion?”
Liv thought.
Because Dominic needed her.
Because she liked being needed.
Because leaving the desk outside his office felt dangerously similar to leaving him.
“I don’t know.”
Margaret’s expression suggested she did.
Elaine continued.
“We recommend immediate reclassification.”
Liv almost laughed.
“Absolutely not.”
Margaret looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because it will look like I slept with the CEO and got promoted.”
Elaine nodded calmly.
“Yes.”
Liv blinked.
“Yes?”
“Yes. Some people will say that.”
“Then why recommend it?”
“Because the documentation shows you earned it before the relationship existed.”
Elaine pushed another folder forward.
“Your role expansion began twenty-one months ago. Your performance reviews repeatedly note executive-level project contributions. Three department heads independently credited you with operational leadership.”
Liv looked through the papers.
Her own career, documented in language she had barely noticed at the time.
Margaret said, “Not promoting you because people might gossip would be discrimination in the opposite direction.”
The sentence landed.
Liv sat back.
“So what happens?”
“The decision goes to the COO and compensation committee. Dominic is excluded.”
“When?”
“Next week.”
Liv almost laughed.
“Perfect timing.”
Margaret smiled faintly.
“Life rarely respects HR scheduling.”
At four, the board meeting began.
Liv returned to her desk.
At four twenty, news alerts reported the company had recovered three percent of its earlier stock loss after announcing an independent investigation.
At four forty-five, Jennifer stopped pretending to work.
“At what point do we storm the conference room?”
“Never.”
“Five?”
“No.”
“Five fifteen?”
“Jennifer.”
At five twenty-three, the boardroom doors opened.
Richard Cain left first.
Then two directors.
Then lawyers.
Dominic emerged last.
His expression revealed nothing.
He saw Liv.
Walked toward her.
The entire office watched.
Liv stood.
“What happened?”
“I’m still CEO.”
Jennifer quietly fist-pumped behind her monitor.
Liv ignored her.
“And the acquisition?”
“Suspended until investigation concludes.”
“Marcus?”
“Administrative leave.”
“Your father?”
Dominic looked toward the elevators where Richard had disappeared.
“Voted against removing me.”
Liv blinked.
“What?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“No idea.”
“Did you ask?”
“He told me not to make him regret it.”
“That’s practically affection.”
“In Cain family language, it may be.”
Dominic’s mouth curved.
Then his phone rang.
His expression changed.
“Serena.”
Liv’s stomach tightened.
He showed her the screen before answering.
That mattered.
“Take it,” she said.
He did.
“Serena.”
Liv could hear only his side.
Then his face lost color.
“What?”
Pause.
“Where are you?”
Another pause.
“I’ll be there.”
He ended the call.
Liv stood.
“What happened?”
Dominic looked at her.
“Serena says she knows who took the photographs.”
Liv’s pulse accelerated.
“Who?”
“She won’t say over the phone.”
“Where is she?”
“At her hotel.”
Dominic grabbed his jacket.
Liv watched him.
An unexpected thought arrived.
Old Liv would have told him to go alone.
Then spent three hours imagining every possible reason he should not.
New Liv stood.
“I’m coming.”
Dominic looked surprised.
“You sure?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Stop saying that.”
They left together through the service garage to avoid reporters.
Serena’s hotel suite was on the thirty-second floor.
She opened the door looking frightened.
Not polished.
Not elegant.
Frightened.
Dominic entered first.
“What happened?”
Serena locked the door.
Then she looked at Liv.
“I need you both to understand something.”
“What?” Liv asked.
Serena crossed the room and opened a laptop.
“The photographs weren’t taken by a reporter.”
She clicked a folder.
Dozens of images appeared.
Dominic entering restaurants.
Dominic leaving the office.
Liv walking home.
Liv at a grocery store.
Liv meeting Jennifer for coffee.
Liv froze.
“These go back months.”
“Yes,” Serena whispered.
Dominic’s expression became terrifyingly still.
“Who took them?”
Serena looked at him.
“Marcus.”
Liv stared.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if the relationship wasn’t the original target.”
Dominic moved closer to the screen.
“What was?”
Serena opened another file.
Photos of Dominic meeting Mercury executives.
Richard Cain entering private clubs.
Board members leaving restaurants.
Marcus had been monitoring everyone.
“For how long?” Dominic asked.
“Almost a year.”
Liv felt cold.
Serena looked at them.
“He wasn’t planning to sabotage one deal.”
“What was he planning?” Liv asked.
May you like
Serena swallowed.
“To take the company.”
