Chapter 37
That evening, the three women met at Remy's penthouse.
A sleek, modern space high above the city that he'd purchased four months ago when his net worth had crossed $50 million and living in a modest apartment had started to feel absurd.
The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city lights spreading out below like a constellation brought to earth, and the open-plan living area had been furnished with a mixture of expensive taste and genuine comfort.
It was a space that spoke of his rapid rise, but also of someone who remembered what it was like to have nothing.
The furniture was high-quality but not ostentatious. The art on the walls was meaningful rather than just expensive.
Most importantly, there were four chairs at the dining table instead of one, a deliberate choice that said this space wasn't just his, but theirs.
The tension that had once existed between them, the competition, the jealousy, the uncomfortable dynamics of three women sharing one man.
It was being replaced by something stranger and more powerful: genuine friendship.
They were still "The Trinity," the school belles who'd defined campus social hierarchy for years.
But in this house, in this relationship, they were becoming something more meaningful: a team.
Lyra, with her silver eyes flashing with the intensity that came when she was processing complex problems, paced the marble floor of the living room.
Her yellow hair swung behind her with each agitated turn, and she'd shed the designer dress she'd worn to class in favor of comfortable jeans and one of Remy's sweatshirts.
An unconscious territorialism that the other two had learned not to comment on.
"If my family's firm goes down, it doesn't just affect me," she said, her voice tight with stress.
"It affects the real estate division of Beaumont Ventures before we've even officially launched.
It undermines our credibility. It proves that we can't protect our own interests, let alone help others protect theirs.
The Parston attack isn't just personal anymore. It's professional."
"Which is why it won't happen again," Nyx said from her position at the dining table.
Surrounded by three laptops and a tangle of cables that would have looked chaotic to anyone who didn't understand her organizational system.
She'd spent the past six hours monitoring the rest of the Parston company's activities.
She was tracking their financial moves, and watching for any sign of a new attack.
"We documented their last attempt. We have federal attention on them. They'd have to be suicidal to try again."
"Or desperate," Remy said from the kitchen, where he was making coffee because no one else could be trusted to brew it correctly, or so Nyx had decreed after one too many watered-down attempts.
"Desperate people do irrational things. Thomas Parston is facing twenty-three federal charges.
His company is haemorrhaging value. His reputation is destroyed.
He has nothing left to lose, which makes him more dangerous, not less."
Indigo, the model who was becoming something more, an actress, an ethics officer, and a genuine person instead of hollow performance.
She looked up from her tablet where she'd been reviewing marketing strategies and media contacts.
Her purplish dark blonde hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail, and she wore minimal makeup because she'd finally accepted that the people in this room loved her for more than her appearance.
"I've used my connections in the modelling and media world," she said, her indigo eyes bright with determination.
"The moment the Parstons try to launch another attack, if they're stupid enough to try, I have three major news outlets ready to leak the full evidence of their fraud.
Not just what the FBI has, but everything Nyx discovered during the counter-hack.
Their reputation won't just be damaged; it will be extinct.
No business will work with them. No bank will loan to them. They'll be avoided like the plague."
"That's aggressive," Lyra observed, pausing in her pacing to look at Indigo with something like admiration.
"Six months ago, you would have used those media connections to destroy people for fun. Now you're using them to protect our interests. That's growth."
"I learned from the best," Indigo said with a slight smile, gesturing toward Remy.
"Why be casually cruel when you can be strategically ruthless? It's so much more satisfying."
"That's a concerning lesson to have learned," Nyx said dryly, though she was smiling.
"But tactically sound. The Parstons have operated for decades because no one challenged them publicly. Public exposure is their nightmare scenario."
Remy walked into the living room carrying a tray with four coffee cups, each prepared exactly how its intended recipient preferred.
Because he had come to know that Lyra took two sugars, Nyx drank hers black with an ice cube to cool it faster, and Indigo needed cream and a touch of vanilla extract.
He looked at the three women, the proud tsundere who'd learned to lower her walls, the brilliant scholar who'd escaped her parents' crushing expectations, and the reformed siren who was discovering depth beneath beauty.
And he felt a surge of pride that had nothing to do with his wealth or power or divine gifts.
These three had chosen something difficult. They had chosen him despite or maybe because of his unconventional proposal.
They had chosen each other, forming bonds that went beyond sharing a boyfriend to something that looked increasingly like genuine sisterhood.
"You're all doing amazing," Remy said, setting down the tray and standing in the centre of the room where he could see all three of them.
"Lyra, your work restructuring your father's company has increased its value by 30% in just two months.
Nyx, the investment model you built for Beaumont Ventures, has already identified three breakthrough companies before they became obvious to traditional VCs.
And Indigo, your ethical framework has kept us from making four investments that would have been profitable but morally questionable.
We're not just surviving anymore. We're thriving."
"But you have that look," Lyra said, narrowing her silver eyes at him.
"A look that says'I've seen something in the future, and I'm about to drop a bomb' look.
What did your Foresight show you?"
Remy's smile was sharp and predatory, the expression of someone who'd seen a checkmate coming ten moves ago.
His eyes began to glow with an intense golden light, brighter than usual, reflecting off the silver and indigo eyes of the women before him and making the coal-black of Nyx's seem even darker in contrast.
"In twenty-four hours," he said, his voice carrying absolute certainty, "the Parston family will file for Chapter 11 bankruptcy.
The federal charges, the loss of partners, and the destruction of their reputation, it's all culminating in total financial collapse.
Thomas Parston will lose everything he spent forty years building."
"Good," Lyra said with vicious satisfaction. "He deserves it."
"And when they do file," Remy continued, his golden eyes glowing brighter.
"We aren't just going to watch from the sidelines and celebrate their downfall.
We're going to move immediately. I've already identified twelve Parston assets that are undervalued, commercial properties, development projects, and a logistics company they acquired three years ago.
In bankruptcy, these will be sold to satisfy creditors. And we're going to buy them for pennies on the dollar and fold them into Beaumont Ventures."
The room went quiet as the implications sank in.
"You want to buy pieces of the company that tried to destroy us?" Nyx asked, her analytical mind immediately working through the strategy.
"That's... actually brilliant. We'd be converting their attack into our opportunity. Using their downfall to accelerate our growth."
"Exactly," Remy confirmed. "The Parston logistics company alone is worth $40 million in a normal market.
In bankruptcy liquidation, we could probably acquire it for $15 million.
That's a 166% return on investment the moment we complete the purchase."
"Plus the psychological impact," Indigo added, her understanding of optics and narrative making her see angles the others might miss.
"The story becomes: 'Young entrepreneurs acquire failed titan's assets, build something better from the ruins.'
That's powerful. That's the kind of narrative that attracts more investment, more attention, and more opportunities."
"And it sends a message," Lyra said, her strategic mind catching up to what Remy was proposing.
"To other old-guard companies who might think about attacking us. It says: 'We don't just survive your attacks.
We profit from them. We grow stronger by consuming your failures.' That's... that's genuinely intimidating."
"That's the point," Remy said. "We're not just defending anymore. We're not just reacting to threats.
We're turning every attack into fuel for our growth. The Parstons tried to destroy us, and instead, they're going to become the foundation for our expansion."
He activated his Foresight more fully, his eyes blazing pure gold now, and began to describe the next twenty-four hours in detail:
"Tomorrow at 9:47 AM, Parston Real Estate Group will file bankruptcy papers.
By 10:15 AM, we'll submit our offers on the twelve target assets through a shell company to avoid immediate identification.
By 2:00 PM, three of those offers will be accepted. By the end of business tomorrow, we'll own $85 million in assets for approximately $30 million in cash."
"Where do we get $30 million in cash by tomorrow?" Nyx asked practically.
"We have capital, but most of it's invested. Liquidating positions quickly would cost us in fees and missed opportunities."
"Already handled," Remy said, pulling out his phone and showing her a document.
"I took out a line of credit against my personal holdings. $50 million available immediately.
We use $30 million for the acquisition, and we keep $20 million in reserve for unexpected opportunities.
The interest rate is 4.5%, but we'll pay it off within six months from the returns on the acquired assets."
"You're using debt to accelerate growth," Lyra said with approval.
"Leveraging your position. That's an actual sophisticated business strategy, not just Foresight. You're learning."
"I have good teachers," Remy said, gesturing to the three of them.
"Lyra taught me real estate fundamentals. Nyx showed me how to model risk properly. Indigo made me think about whether fast growth is always good growth.
This plan works because it combines all of your perspectives."
Lyra stepped forward and took his hand, her face flushing pink in that way that showed her walls were crumbling again.
"You're an alpha male, Remy Beaumont," she said, her voice mixing exasperation with affection.
"You're ambitious and ruthless, and sometimes you move so fast the rest of us are scrambling to keep up. You're a bit too much of one sometimes."
"But he's our alpha," Indigo added with a knowing smile, moving to stand beside Lyra.
Her purple hair caught the light from the chandelier above, shimmering like captured twilight.
"The one we chose. The one who sees us as partners instead of possessions.
The one who asks what we think instead of just telling us what he's decided."
Nyx stood up from her nest of laptops and joined them, her coal-black eyes soft with an emotion she was still learning to express comfortably.
"We agreed to this arrangement, didn't we? Equal partners in something unconventional.
No more secrets between us. Full transparency, even when the truth is complicated or uncomfortable."
Remy looked at the three of them standing before him, these brilliant, beautiful, broken women who'd somehow become whole through choosing each other and him.
And he felt emotion well up that had nothing to do with Foresight or financial success or victory over enemies.
"No more secrets," he agreed, his voice rough with feeling. "We're in this together. All of it, the business, the relationship, the impossible future we're trying to build.
When I win, we all win. When I fail, we all fail. That's what partnership means."
"So dramatic," Lyra said, but she was smiling as she squeezed his hand. "But yes. Together. The four of us against whatever comes next."
"Together," Indigo and Nyx echoed.
They stood like that for a moment, a constellation of four people who shouldn't work but somehow did.
People who'd built something unconventional and fragile and increasingly strong from the ruins of their separate brokenness.
Then Nyx, ever practical, broke the moment: "We should probably review the acquisition documents.
Make sure we're not missing any liabilities or hidden problems with the target assets. Bankruptcy sales can hide a lot of problems."
"Already done," Remy said, grateful for the shift back to business.
Emotional moments still made him uncomfortable, even after six months of learning to be vulnerable.
"I had three different law firms review everything. The assets are clean. No hidden environmental issues, no pending lawsuits, no structural problems.
The Parstons might have been criminals, but they maintained their properties well."
"Then we should celebrate," Indigo suggested. "Tomorrow, we execute the biggest acquisition in Beaumont Ventures' short history.
Tonight, we should enjoy the calm before the storm."
"I'll order dinner," Lyra volunteered, pulling out her phone.
"That Thai place you all like? The one with the curry that Nyx claims 'optimizes the balance of protein, carbs, and vegetables for ideal nutritional outcomes'?"
"It does optimize it," Nyx protested. "I ran the nutritional analysis. It's scientifically superior to...."
"She's doing the thing again," Indigo interrupted with a laugh. "Where she turns food into a math problem.
Nyx, beloved, sometimes you can just say 'I like the curry' without citing studies."
"But where's the precision in that?" Nyx asked, genuinely confused, which made all of them laugh.
The evening settled into comfortable domesticity, ordering food, reviewing documents, planning for tomorrow while also just being together.
They ate dinner sprawled around the living room, arguing good-naturedly about strategy and ethics and whether Nyx's insistence on documenting everything in spreadsheets was helpful or obsessive (their consensus: both).
At some point, Lyra fell asleep on the couch with her head in Remy's lap.
Indigo curled up in the armchair with a script she was reviewing for a potential film role.
Nyx continued working on her laptop, but more slowly now, the urgency fading as the night deepened.
Silas appeared near the windows, his ghostly form barely visible in the dim lighting, watching the scene with that mixture of pride and melancholy that came from seeing success you'd helped create but couldn't fully share in.
"You've built something special, boy," he whispered. "Not just the wealth or the business or the victory over enemies.
This...." he gestured at the four young people in the living room, "...this chosen family, this partnership, this impossible thing that works despite all logic suggesting it shouldn't.
This is what you saved yourself for."
Remy couldn't respond without alerting the others to the ghost's presence, but he nodded slightly in acknowledgement.
Tomorrow would bring challenges. The acquisition, the possible continued threat from desperate Parstons, the endless complications of building something unprecedented.
But tonight, in this moment, with three women he loved in various states of sleep and work around him, Remy Beaumont felt something he'd never expected to feel:
Peace. Contentment. The knowledge that he belonged somewhere, with someone, or rather, with three someone who'd chosen to build an impossible future together.
The boy who'd stood on a chair with a rope was gone completely now, replaced by a man with purpose, partners, and plans that extended far beyond simple survival.
Tomorrow, they would consume pieces of their enemy's empire and grow stronger.
But tonight, they would rest.
Together.
As it should be.