Earth, Omaha, Nebraska

  Aubrey Hope, Heiress and Director of PR Strategy for Hope Pharmaceuticals

  Aubrey Hope’s stilettos beat a satisfying click-clack as she crossed the marble lobby floor of Hope Pharmaceuticals.

  Despite the warm sunlight streaming through the windows, a lingering chill from the brisk Nebraska spring morning clung to her bones.

  The brief trip had drained her already dangerously low energy reserves. It also sparked the beginnings of another migraine, but her carefully applied makeup should conceal the dark shadows beneath her eyes.

  The chatter of early-arriving employees, the modern chandelier hanging from the three-story ceiling, and even the slightly outdated sofas in the waiting area made this place feel like home.

  She’d skipped across these marble floors wearing French braids and a tutu, walked through in a schoolgirl uniform … and stormed in wearing a cap and gown the day her father missed her college graduation.

  Today, she strode through in full war gear—tailored pencil skirt, silk blouse with several strategic buttons undone, fitted blazer.

  Because today, her father would hear her out.

  As she approached the security turnstile, she glanced down in dismay at the coffee cups in each hand and then at her Balenciaga handbag, which was slung crossbody.

  Her security badge was inside.

  “Shit,” she muttered, her frustration slipping out under her breath.

  But before she had time to sigh, Tony, the security guard, appeared by her side. “Here, let me hold those for you, Miss Aubrey! You’re looking sharp today!”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Tony,” Aubrey said, flashing a grateful smile. Tony had been a part of the team for at least a decade now, and Hope Pharma was fortunate to have him. “I guess I didn’t really think this through.”

  She pulled out her card, scanned it, and kept it handy for the elevator.

  “Thirsty?” he teased, handing the cups back to her.

  “Nah—this one’s for Helen. Early meetings, you know how it is.”

  He shook his head. “You work too much, young lady—you should take some time off.”

  Aubrey’s heart skipped a beat.

  Could he tell something was off with her? That she was sick? She’d need to check her makeup before meeting with her father, just to be sure …

  “Oh, but I’m sure you’ll take some time off for the wedding, right?” Tony continued, shattering her focus. “You must be excited.”

  Relief hit her—he was just being friendly, chastising her for working too hard. Making small talk.

  “Oh, absolutely!” she exclaimed, flashing him an extra-winning smile as she backed towards the elevator bay. “Dad hired a brilliant planner, and everything is coming together perfectly.”

  “Well, I’m truly happy for you, Miss Aubrey. You have a good day, now.”

  “You, too, Tony!”

  With that, she strode towards the elevator bay, steeling her nerves for the confrontation ahead.

  If her plan worked, she would meet with the CEO at 7:45 sharp.

  But it had to work. Aubrey would meet with her father.

  She envisioned success: handing the coffee to Helen, striding into her father’s office with unwavering confidence, compelling him to hear her out.

  It would work.

  It had to work.

  A couple of employees were waiting in front of the elevators, so she held back a few steps to wait.

  Ever since Microbe X had turned the world on its head, employees had been showing up earlier and earlier, pretending to be busy even though there was less and less work to be done.

  Hope Pharma hadn’t laid off anyone because of this unprecedented upheaval and hadn’t given anyone reason to worry. But Aubrey was among the few executives who knew things were about to change.

  It was inevitable.

  Microbe X had fucked over the healthcare industry, and then taken the global economy with it, just for good measure.

  Companies in the healthcare industry had been going under, left and right.

  Hope Pharma was screwed more than most pharmaceutical companies, since they developed—or rather, they used to develop—treatments for incurable diseases. She was determined to keep their doors open.

  “Look, I’m just saying—it doesn’t seem fair. He’s already had his time,” said the young man.

  Aubrey didn’t know him, but something about him screamed IT. Or accounting.

  “But it’s Tom Brady!” protested the older guy. Aubrey knew of him. He was from IT, and according to Javier, their CTO, he was a total pain in the ass. If the guy wasn’t the only one who understood some obscure piece of software, he would have been fired long ago.

  “I get it, I do—but if they keep letting old dudes come out of retirement, it’s gonna mess up the whole system.”

  “It’s a brave new world, kid. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  “I know,” the young man answered, seemingly chastised. “My mom’s cancer is gone. That’s all that matters.”

  The older man scoffed. “Well, it’s not the only thing that matters—I’ve worked in pharmaceuticals for thirty years, and now the whole industry has gone to shit. So much for that fancy pension, know what I mean?”

  “Hey, Hope Pharma’s still here,” he replied. “We’re not like all the others—”

  “—kid, look around you—mark my words, the writing’s on the wall.” The way the jerk talked to the young man, they had to be from the same department, probably the same team.

  The elevator door dinged, and Aubrey strode forward, shouldering her way between the two men. “Gentlemen,” she said, nodding curtly as she approached the open elevator.

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  Behind her, she heard the older man stammer, “Oh, hey—morning, Miss Hope. Didn’t see you there.”

  “You go ahead—we’ll grab the next one,” the younger man added.

  Aubrey pinned one of the coffees against her body so she could scan her badge for the executive floor, then held the button to hold the door.

  Meeting the younger man’s gaze, she adopted her best sports banter voice. “Come on, if Tom is still the best, he deserves to play, right?”

  Her gaze then shifted to the older man. “And Hope Pharma isn’t going anywhere.” She released the button and allowed the elevator door to close.

  Away from observant eyes, Aubrey slouched against the back wall of the elevator.

  The artificial lights pierced her eyes, and although the motion of the elevator was smooth as butter, her stomach lurched, and her head throbbed in protest.

  Her morning cocktail of off-label drugs hadn’t kicked in yet. Standing still, with a coffee in each hand, the trembling in her limbs became obvious. She braced her elbows against her ribs, checking her reflection in the mirrored wall to ensure she appeared nonchalant.

  Following the technique she had perfected for concealing her tremors, Aubrey supported her limbs and avoided holding objects away from her body.

  The elevator slowed, too soon, and Aubrey scrambled to assume a position of authority and poise before the door slid open.

  Floor 14, Sales.

  Two employees entered the elevator, wearing off-the-rack suits that could use tailoring. Aubrey thought she recognized the woman, perhaps from a previous project they had worked on. The other individual, who resembled a knock-off Ryan Gosling, exuded an inflated ego that barely fit inside the elevator.

  The woman addressed Knock-off RG. “Your team has that big presentation today, right?”

  “Yep,” he replied, projecting his voice so Aubrey could overhear. “Stayed up all night finishing it since Jared was out sick. Again.”

  Never mind that Hope Pharma had been clear in its support of those with Syndrome Q ever since the start of this whole fiasco.

  Maybe he meant Jared in Sales … if so, he was barking up the wrong tree. Aubrey had known Jared since she was a kid—he was one of their most experienced account managers.

  She made a mental note to check in on Jared later, to see if he was ok and let him know his idiot subordinate was out for blood.

  Trudy rounded the corner, slightly out of breath. “Hold the door,” she said, then smiled at Aubrey. “You’re going up?”

  “Yep.”

  Trudy gave her a knowing look before scanning her badge. As the doors closed, Aubrey said, “Everything good to go on your end?”

  “Yep,” Trudy replied, lowering her voice even though they were alone in the elevator. “The government contract is in its final stages of negotiation, and almost everyone is on board with the acquisition.”

  “Almost everyone?” Aubrey’s stomach dropped. Her father preferred executive consensus.

  “It’ll be fine. You just work your magic on those interviews and sell Richard on the PR plan, k?” Trudy assured her. “You still flying down to Texas for that meeting tomorrow?”

  “Yep—her manager confirmed this morning.”

  Trudy shook her head, chuckling. “I still can’t believe you had the guts to ask Hayley Jo to be our spokesperson.”

  “It just made sense.”

  “It’s a good plan, Aubrey.” Trudy reached out and squeezed Aubrey’s shoulder. “Your mom would have been so proud of you.”

  Aubrey blinked rapidly and took a sip of her coffee. “Thanks.”

  Aubrey’s mother had convinced Richard Hope to shift the company’s focus towards finding treatments for chronic illness. When her father married a Lebanese supermodel, he couldn’t have seen that one coming.

  Some cynics viewed it as a smart business move, dealing with treatments rather than cures.

  But that hadn’t been how Aubrey’s mother had seen it. Aubrey’s grandmother had lived with multiple chronic conditions, and when her mom saw an opportunity to alleviate similar suffering in others, she made it happen.

  She refused to let her mother’s dream die.

  The elevator opened, and Trudy prepared to exit, but apparently noticed that Aubrey wasn’t following. “He finally let you on the calendar?”

  “No.” Aubrey sighed. “But he’s meeting with me—he just doesn’t know it yet.”

  Trudy let out a low whistle. “Gutsy.”

  “What’s he gonna do?” Aubrey asked, projecting a confidence she didn’t fully possess.

  “Well, he always had a soft spot for you. Hopefully, he’s in a good mood today.” Trudy frowned, then continued, “Aubrey, I still think we should tell him—”

  “—no,” Aubrey interrupted, shaking her head. “People will take the idea more seriously coming from you and Jack. A lot of them still think of me as a kid.”

  “I’m not sure why he’s been sidelining you, Aubrey, but it’s not for lack of talent. I’m sure he has his reasons.” After a brief pause, Trudy continued, “Well, if we pull this off, I’m telling him it was you.”

  “Oh, come on, it wasn’t all my idea. It was a group effort.”

  “If you say so,” she said, jerking her head towards the top floor.”Good luck up there.”

  “I’ll get it done—you guys just take care of your part.”

  “You got it.”

  The elevator doors closed, and Aubrey prepared herself for the last leg of her ride.

  Unease swirled in Aubrey’s gut at the thought of dissenters to the acquisition. The Wellify deal, the Microbe X contracts—it was an all-or-nothing package. Any opposition threatened to topple her carefully constructed house of cards.

  If there were doubts, it was even more crucial that she secure Hayley Jo’s celebrity sponsorship. Hopefully, that would be enough to tip the scales.

  As the elevator doors opened to the small executive lobby, Aubrey was greeted by her father’s long-time secretary at the mahogany reception desk.

  “Morning, Helen.” Aubrey handed her one of the coffee cups, and Helen returned the gesture with a warm grin.

  Helen was the epitome of a morning person, almost sickeningly so. But though the woman didn’t need coffee to wake up, Aubrey knew that coconut mocha from Zen was her weakness.

  Helen greeted Aubrey with a bright smile. “Good morning, Aubrey. You’re here early!”

  Having been her father’s gatekeeper since Aubrey was seven, Helen was practically family. It came with the territory when your only parent was the CEO of a major pharmaceutical company.

  Helen’s primary responsibility was to keep unauthorized individuals from bothering the CEO. So, at the moment, the kind-hearted woman was an obstacle—but Aubrey was determined to meet her father. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need to raise hell to make it happen.

  Psyching herself up, Aubrey gave Helen a warm smile and proceeded with her plan.

  “Yes, I need to have a quick word with Dad before he starts his day.”

  Helen frowned. “Oh, Aubrey, he has a full schedule today.”

  Aubrey focused her mind, envisioning success. She had to make this work.

  See it. Believe it. Create it.

  She locked eyes with Helen and visualized success. She imagined Helen allowing her to pass without resistance. “He’s expecting me.”

  Helen’s entire demeanor shifted instantly, her expression morphing to ease and openness. “Oh, in that case, go on in. He’ll be here any minute.”

  “Thanks, Helen. Enjoy the coffee—let’s catch up soon,” Aubrey said, already moving past the reception desk. As she walked past, a twinge of unease flickered through her. That had been too easy.

  She hadn’t actually expected to get in without a fight. A bitter confrontation with her father when he came in ... something.

  But it was the outcome she’d hoped for, so she tried to put it out of her mind.

  The opulent corner office, with its imported leather furniture and meticulously handcrafted mahogany desk, mirrored her father’s persona to a tee. The antique clock on the desk was obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room.

  Aubrey despised that clock; every tick seemed to mock her for the countless hours she had spent waiting in this room, longing for a father who never seemed to have enough time for her.

  Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the ornate bookshelves that adorned two walls. Among the priceless rare books and cigar boxes, Richard Hope had carefully placed his most treasured possessions—pieces from his late wife’s modern art collection, which he personally cleaned and maintained.

  The scent of her father’s sandalwood cologne filled the air, evoking a mix of comfort and anxiety for Aubrey.

  She set down her coffee, removed her purse, and sank into one of the plush leather chairs. Her feet were already throbbing, but she resisted the urge to slouch in her seat.

  No time to for weariness. Taking a gulp of coffee, Aubrey grabbed her phone to check her messages.

  Derrick: Morning, beautiful! Good luck ambushing the old man—you’re gonna crush it. Maybe you can finally let me in on your clever plans once you win him over!

  A flicker of irritation passed through Aubrey. It was so annoying when he acted like this. She couldn’t help feeling like he was using their relationship to manipulate her.

  Aubrey’s fiancé, Derrick, was handsome, charming, and incredibly ambitious. However, he always got nosy whenever he found out she was working on something big without informing him.

  But just because they lived together didn’t entitle him to company secrets. Despite being one of their top project managers, he’d hear about it when everyone else did.

  Glancing at the time, Aubrey tucked her cell phone back into her purse. Her father would arrive any minute now. She straightened her suit, putting on a fa?ade of composure.

  Ambushing her own father hadn’t been part of plan A.

  Or B, C, or D. But he’d been dodging her for weeks, and enough was enough.

  For months, Aubrey had suspected that her father was sidelining her, but now she was sure.

  Yesterday, she saw the retired VP of Marketing emerge from an executive planning meeting, one that she—the current Director of PR Strategy—had not been invited to.

  Aubrey had no issue with Michael—he was practically an uncle to her after all these years. But how could she do her job if she was shut out of the decision-making process? It was an impossible situation.

  Anger flared hot in Aubrey’s veins. She’d had enough of this bullshit.

  She was more than Richard Hope’s daughter, more than a mere PR strategist.

  Aubrey was the heiress to Hope Pharmaceuticals—its future CEO—and they were not going down without a fight.