Chapter 13 - The Checkmate Z
By eight o'clock Thursday morning, the financial news networks were in a state of absolute frenzy. Bloomberg, CNBC, and the Wall Street Journal simultaneously broke the story: SHAW & FINCH SECURES RECORD $40M GLOBAL ECO-RESORT CONTRACT; STOCK SURGES 18%.
Sitting in the glass-walled executive office on the top floor of Shaw & Finch, Beckett and I watched the digital ticker tape run across the screen. Beside us, a bottle of vintage Dom Pérignon champagne sat in a silver ice bucket, untouched.
At precisely 8:30 AM, Beckett’s private phone rang. The caller ID displayed an unlisted Miami number.
Beckett put the phone on speaker mode and set it calmly on his mahogany desk.
"Sterling," Beckett said flatly.
A rough, raspy voice filled with suffocating fury came through the speaker. "Shaw... you arrogant son of a bitch."
"Victor," Beckett replied smoothly, leaning back in his leather executive chair and lacing his fingers together. "I assume your prime broker in New York just issued your margin call notice?"
"You leaked the Vance contract early!" Sterling spat, coughing violently on the other end of the line. "You manipulated the market timeline! It was an illegal leak!"
"It was an official corporate press release, Victor," I spoke up, stepping closer to the desk, my voice filled with clear, undeniable authority. "And as Senior Vice President of Creative Strategy, I personally authorized the release schedule."
There was a heavy pause on the line before Sterling let out a low, bitter growl. "Mara Ellison... Caleb’s little widow. You think you’re smart, don't you? You think playing Beckett’s game makes you untouchable?"
"No, Sterling," I said coldly. "What makes me untouchable is that unlike you, I don't hide behind illegal debt schemes or intimidate families. You tried to use my daughter’s memory to destroy this firm. And now, your hedge fund is being liquidated to pay off your own brokers."
"By noon today," Beckett added, his voice dropping into a lethal, low register, "the Securities and Exchange Commission will receive a complete forensic audit of Aethelgard Holdings’ offshore transactions in Panama, provided directly by Douglas Mercer’s plea agreement team. Your trading license is being permanently revoked, Victor. Your assets are being seized. You're finished."
A long, agonizing silence hung in the air from the Miami line. The sound of heavy, defeated breathing was all that remained of the terrifying shadow investor who had threatened our lives.
"Go to hell, Shaw," Sterling rasped quietly before the line went completely dead.
Beckett reached out and clicked the end-call button. He stood up from his chair, walked around the desk, and poured two glasses of champagne from the silver bucket. He handed one glass to me, his dark eyes shining with profound admiration, respect, and deep, unending love.
"To the Vice President who saved the firm," Beckett said softly, clinking his glass against mine.
"To the CEO who gave me the strength to fight back," I replied, taking a small sip of the cool, sparkling champagne.
Beckett set his glass down on the desk, reached out, and pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly against his heart that I could feel its strong, steady rhythm beating against my chest.
"It's finally over, Mara," Beckett whispered into my hair, his hands gently caressing my back. "The Mercers, Sterling, the court battles... every single threat to your peace has been destroyed. You and Lila are safe forever."
I looked up at his handsome face, tracing the sharp line of his jawline with my fingertips. "We aren't just safe, Beckett. We're happy. Truly happy."
"I have one last corporate proposal to present to you," Beckett said, a rare, nervous smile touching his lips as he reached into his inner suit pocket.
My heart skipped a beat as he pulled out a small, navy velvet box.
My breath caught in my throat. Tears instantly filled my eyes as Beckett Shaw—the most powerful, intimidating, and brilliant business mogul in the Southwest—slowly dropped down onto one knee on the hardwood floor of his executive office.
He opened the velvet box, revealing a breathtaking, flawless three-carat emerald-cut diamond ring that caught the morning Arizona sunlight in a blaze of brilliant, prismatic light.
"Mara Ellison," Beckett said, his voice deep, gravelly, and filled with a raw, vulnerable emotion that made my soul tremble. "Three years ago, you walked into my firm as a grieving woman who thought she had to face the cold world alone. Today, you are my equal, my partner, my best friend, and the love of my life. You brought warmth, laughter, and joy into a life that was cold and empty before I met you."
He took my trembling hand in his, looking up into my eyes with an intensity that took my breath away.
"Will you do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife? Will you let me love you, protect you, and stand by your side for the rest of our lives?"
Tears of pure, unadulterated happiness spilled over my eyelashes, tracking down my cheeks as I let out a soft, ecstatic laugh.
May you like
"Yes!" I cried out, dropping down onto my knees beside him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. "Yes, Beckett! A thousand times yes!"
Beckett let out a deep, triumphant laugh, sliding the glittering diamond ring onto my finger before pulling me into a deep, passionate, and intoxicating kiss that sealed our future forever.
