He started to speak, but she gently squeezed his hands to stop him.

"I've been selfish," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. "I could only see it from my side. My hurt. My anger at having to share you. I saw the other women as obstacles, as threats to what we had."

Darren narrowed his eyes, surprised at all of this. Not even knowing what to say. He let her continue.

"I never once stopped to think… what it must be like for you."

Her eyes searched his, truly seeing him for the first time since this began.

"To have so much… affection… coming at you from all directions. To feel responsible for all of it. To not want to hurt any of us. I was only protecting my heart. You were trying to manage all of ours."

Darren was silent, truly stunned. This was a level of empathy and insight he had not calculated on.

He had expected her acceptance, perhaps her strategic mind seeing the value, but not this profound understanding.

"I mean..." she giggled emotionally. "You're young, you're smart, you're extremely wealthy and influential. What woman wouldn't want to be with you?"

Darren narrowed his eyes. "I don't really think of myself that way. I'm just... I'm just doing what I can with what I have. I don't want to lose any of you, but I wasn't going to beg anyone to stay either."

"It's okay. I understand why you did this," Rachel continued, her voice gaining strength.

"It was a mess. The only way to clean it up was to lay all the cards on the table. It was brutal… but it was honest."

She took a deep breath. "So, I'm laying my card down too. I'm not just here. I stand with you. And I'm sorry that I ever doubted you in the first place."

She stood on her tiptoes once more to plant a kiss on his lips. "Thank you so much for this room."

Alongside the kiss of apology, a feeling of profound, dizzying relief washed over him, so potent it almost felt like weakness.

He had won back his strategist, his anchor. He pulled her to him again, burying his face in her hair. "Rachel," he breathed, the word a prayer of thanks.

They kissed again, this one slower, deeper, a seal on their renewed pact.

He wanted to take her there, to push her to the bed and rip off this beautiful gown from her tempting skin.

But another knock came from the gate.

The sound was lighter this time, more hesitant.

Darren smiled against Rachel's lips. "The board is assembling," he murmured.

She smiled back, a true, radiant smile. "Go. Welcome your investors."

He gave her hand a final squeeze and left, the ghost of her kiss still warming his lips.

---

The arrivals came like waves after that, each distinct, each a testament to his plan's success.

Kara arrived next in a burst of neon pink and infectious energy, practically launching herself into his arms. "Boss! This place is SICK! Where's the biggest screen? I brought my console!"

Her loyalty, already high, got even higher and seemed to vibrate off her. He laughed, a genuine, unrestrained sound, and pointed her toward the game room, watching her bounce away with a shake of his head.

Penelope came shortly after, looking ethereal in a floral sundress, carrying a basket of homemade pastries. "I didn't know what to bring," she said shyly. Her hug was lingering, and she whispered, "Thank you for the daisies. And for… seeing me."

He accepted a pastry, his heart squeezing at her sweetness, and guided her to a room that smelled of fresh baking and faced the sunrise.

He wanted to talk with her, so badly. They spend most of the time in awkward silence, knowing they had much to say to each other. But before he could do it, another knock came.

They were all coming so there was barely any time for chatting.

At least for now.

Olivia and Tamara arrived within minutes of each other, their town cars pulling up almost in tandem.

The tension between them was palpable, a silent war of designer handbags and icy glares. Darren greeted them with equal, polished charm. "Ladies. I trust you'll find the conference facilities adequate for any… negotiations."

He'd had a meeting room converted into a dual-office suite for them, a move that made Olivia's eyes narrow in appreciation and Tamara's lips curve into a sly smile. He had channeled their rivalry into a shared space, forcing a détente.

Sandy had given him a hug when she arrived. She was dressed in a stunning red dress and a straw hat.

She offered an apology, saying that how she had been acting was undoubtedly wrong and forceful. Darren had kissed her.

On the forehead.

He promised that they'll talk later, as for now, he had to welcome the other women.

Sandy remained starstruck by the kiss. Even though it was just on her forehead.

Miranda and Daisy arrived together. They both appeared to have found comfort with each other in being somewhat outsiders in all of this.

They had outfits that seemed like a mix between casual and corporate, like they weren't really sure what this weekend was going to be about.

They were still wide-eyed, treating the whole experience like a fascinating corporate retreat. "Mr. Steele, the brand synergy opportunities here are—"

Darren cut Miranda off gently. "It's Darren. And we'll discuss synergy next week. Tonight, relax."

Before long, the villa was filled with sound, with life, with the incredible, dizzying reality of his gamble paying off.

He moved among them, the sun beginning its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

Then, a new sound echoed through the compound.

Not a knock on the gate, but the deep, throaty purr of a powerful engine, followed by the precise crunch of gravel on the main drive.

A car had arrived, but it hadn't stopped at the guest parking. It had driven all the way to the inner courtyard, a breach of protocol only one person would dare.

Darren turned.

A chauffeur held open the door of a pristine Rolls-Royce Phantom.

A slender, impossibly elegant leg emerged, followed by another.

Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux rose from the car as if unveiling a statue. She wore a stark white, wide-legged jumpsuit that screamed of Parisian ateliers and old money.

Her hair was impeccable, her sunglasses oversized. She didn't look at the chauffeur, the villa, or the ocean. Her gaze, from behind those dark lenses, was fixed solely on him.

She had made them wait. She had arrived last, making an entrance that was a statement in itself.

She was the final piece, the queen arriving to survey her new, unconventional kingdom.

She slowly took off her sunglasses, her sharp eyes scanning him, then the villa, then the distant sound of other women laughing from within.

A slow, knowing, and utterly predatory smile spread across her perfectly painted lips.

"The consortium is in session, I see," she purred, her voice carrying easily across the courtyard. "Darling. I do hope you saved the best room for me."

Darren smiled. Getting her to be in line would be way more difficult than the other women.

For her, she still believed she held the cards concerning Darren. He was to be loyal to her, not the other way around, even though she found him... attractive.

Because in the end, he was the one with a debt to pay.