Audacity (Seraph)

She may talk a good game, but her lovely face is brittle with devastation as she turns away, and righteous indignation hits me with the full force of a tidal wave as I go after her.

‘Athena. Wait.’

She doesn’t. She keeps walking, an impossibly elegant figure weaving briskly between the half-filled tables. I catch her up as she clears the dining area, my hand going to her arm. ‘Sweetheart. Wait.’

‘Don’t make a scene,’ she hisses, avoiding my eye.

‘I’m not—I’m—I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’

‘I need to get my coat.’

‘Please come back.’ Even as the plea leaves my mouth, I know it’s useless. Of course she’s not going to go back there, to the table where some cunt has just insulted her and outed her in front of my entire family.

‘Not happening.’ She strides over to the cloakroom’s hatch, which is deserted except for a lone attendant, and lays her tiny bag down on the counter so she can find her ticket.

Tonight was supposed to be our night. Her night. I’m getting up there to make a speech about our philanthropic commitments over the next decade and beyond, and my plan is—was—to name Athena as the new CEO of the foundation.

She’s supposed to be basking in this unshakeable belief my family has in her to steward our wealth, and instead she’s scurrying to the cloakroom like she has something to be ashamed of.

It’s not okay.

If anything, I’m the one who should be called out. I abandoned my calling and hired a woman to fuck me as soon as I got rid of my dog collar. I’m the immoral, despicable miscreant here, not her. And I’m sure my family will reinforce that message to me in style, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck.

All I care about is that the woman I’ve fallen for has been made to feel less than on my watch, because of my sins.

‘Let me take you home,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t want you going out there alone.’

That gets her to look at me. Her eyes are clear, but it seems to me every nerve ending in her body is vibrating. I know her well enough to see the effort it’s costing her merely to hold her shit together for the sake of propriety.

‘I am perfectly capable of getting myself home, Gabe, and you have a speech to give.’

‘You’re more important. Nothing else matters except making sure you’re okay.’

She purses her lips as though my lack of backbone is disappointing. Every wall I’ve had the indescribable pleasure of taking down is back up in force. My goddess has taken up her sword and shield, and she’s not about to let a single mortal see the extent of her wounds.

Not even me.

She fiddles with the clasp on her little handbag as she answers. ‘That’s not true. All this matters. I need to regroup, and you need to go and do some damage limitation with your family. And then you need to go and tell that roomful of people exactly what the Sullivans are committed to doing.’

‘Athena. Please.’ I sigh, sensing defeat. ‘Can I come over later?’

‘You cannot.’ She looks at me, and for just a second, I see the hurt splitting her heart open. ‘Leave me alone, Gabe. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

I don’t know why her request that I leave her alone for the rest of the night hits so hard, but it does. It feels both ridiculous and ominous that she would shut me out like this. There are depths to this woman that still feel fathomless, and it’s clear I’ve only explored the ones she is happy for me to explore. As I make my way back to the table, I channel my anger. Anger is good: it’s an active emotion, an empowering emotion.

I can do something with this.

Back at the table, everyone is murmuring, whispering, heads inclined in confidence. Harrington is still there. I take my seat, because I have absolutely not been brought up to make a scene, and I have every interest in containing this scandal as much as humanly possible.

Athena’s words come back to me.

Damage limitation.

The only way to approach this is to go on the offensive. If my family has the slightest expectation that they’ll receive some kind of apology or explanation from me for my behaviour, they will be sorely disappointed. I need to get on the front foot here.

I lean forward and jab my finger at Harrington.

‘You. Get out. You are no longer welcome here. And let me reiterate Athena’s reminder to you—you are in breach of a watertight NDA.’ I should know. I signed one before I even saw Athena’s portfolio. ‘So if you value your solvency, I’d keep your pathetic mouth shut.’

He sneers at me. ‘Jesus Christ, she has you wrapped around her little finger. That pussy must be⁠—’

‘Out,’ I say as loudly as I dare.

‘You heard my brother,’ Brendan says. ‘Fuck off. You’re a disgrace.’

‘Brendan!’ Mum says, seemingly more shocked by her sons’ indiscretions than her guest’s.

‘Get out.’ Brendan’s tone brooks no argument. His eyes slide to me in a silent gesture of support. ‘Now.’

Harrington rolls his eyes before pushing away his chair and getting inelegantly to his feet. As soon as he’s lumbered off, I put my head in my hands and sigh heavily.

Mum’s voice cuts through the stunned silence. ‘Gabriel. What in the name of God were⁠—’

The judgement in her voice snaps me out of my defeated slump. I sit up straight.

‘No. Listen to me very carefully, okay? I’m only going to say this once.’ I look around the table, meeting each person’s eyes as I do and gathering every remaining ounce of priestly gravitas which, now that my sordid little secret is out, is probably not very much. I take a deep breath.

‘I am not discussing this right now. The only thing I care about is the wellbeing of my girlfriend, who has just been intimidated and belittled while a guest of this family. I will go up there and make that speech, I will do us proud. But what you heard just now is nobody’s business except for mine and Athena’s. Do you understand? Nobody’s.’

I glare extra forcefully at Eleanor and Torty, because I can feel the judgement radiating off the pair of them. ‘I swear to God, if anyone in the office comes to hear about this, I will be forced to assume the leak came from you. Is that clear?’

They both nod, wide-eyed with shock. I have never spoken to any of my employees this way. I turn and address my family.

‘You’ll have questions. I’ll address those another time. For now, I’m going to go and find somewhere quiet to prepare for my speech.’

With that, I get up and go to find one of the organisers. Thank fuck my speech is scheduled to be during the starters, so I don’t have too long to wait. The woman I find leads me to an empty room off the ballroom. As she shuts the door behind me and the din from the guests subsides, I collapse gratefully into a chair.

I will pray to the Lord for courage and resilience and wisdom. I will pray to Our Lady, entreating her to have compassion for this wretched sinner and to help him restore the fortunes of the young woman about who he cares so deeply.

It’s only the thought of Athena, guarded and brittle and so intent on my forging ahead with my speech, that galvanises me. However unlikely it’s now looking that my family will support her spearheading this foundation, I know how disappointed, how disgusted, she’d be if I let this opportunity slide.

I pull my notes out of my jacket pocket and survey them despondently. I cannot name Athena as the foundation’s new head tonight; that much is clear.

I can, however, drop the bombshell that the Sullivan family has confirmed its commitment to giving away six billion pounds over the next twenty years.

And I can also announce our proposed rebrand for the Rath Mor Foundation—the rebrand that was supposed to be a surprise for my girlfriend tonight.

The Audacity Foundation.