Chapter 6 - STEVEN ASKED ANGELA TO LIE FOR DANIELS CAPITAL, AND HER ANSWER COST HIM THE DEAL HE HAD SACRIFICED THEIR MARRIAGE TO PROTECT
At sixteen weeks, Angela’s pregnancy began to show.
Not dramatically.
A small curve.
Enough that strangers on elevators sometimes looked twice.
Enough that Steven noticed immediately when they met at Natalie’s office for financial mediation.
His eyes dropped.
Then rose.
“Sorry.”
Angela almost laughed.
“For looking?”
“Yes.”
“You’re allowed to notice your child.”
His face softened.
Then Natalie entered.
No softness after that.
Divorce finances were less dramatic than Steven feared.
They had a prenuptial agreement.
Angela’s pre-marital assets remained hers.
Steven’s pre-marital Daniels Capital equity remained his.
Marital earnings and property would be divided.
The penthouse sold? They had a penthouse. Could be co-owned. Angela did not want it.
Steven initially did.
Then changed.
“I don’t want to live there.”
He said.
Angela understood.
Too many rooms with memory.
They agreed to list after pregnancy stabilized.
No war.
The bigger problem was Daniels Capital.
Northshore Media returned to negotiations under one condition:
Steven could not resume CEO role until internal review concluded and lenders approved governance changes.
Steven hated it.
His interim CEO, Maya Thompson, was excellent.
That made it worse.
For a man who spent fifteen years building company around himself, discovering it could operate without him felt like amputation.
Then company’s public-relations counsel made a proposal.
Not to Angela directly this time.
To Steven.
He brought it into mediation.
Bad choice.
“What?”
Angela asked.
Steven looked uncomfortable.
“Northshore is worried about continuing press.”
“That sounds like Northshore’s problem.”
“It affects valuation.”
“Still not mine.”
Steven rubbed his hands together.
“They asked whether we would issue a joint statement.”
Angela stared.
“We already discussed this.”
“Different statement.”
“What?”
“That our separation began before Bellamy’s.”
Silence.
Natalie slowly set down pen.
Steven immediately said:
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I told them no.”
Angela’s anger paused.
“Then why tell me?”
“Because they came back.”
“With what?”
“If we clarify timeline, they’ll sign exclusivity Monday.”
There.
Northshore.
Again.
The child inside Angela moved? At sixteen weeks perhaps flutters. She felt first flutter maybe. Let's use.
A tiny sensation moved low in her stomach.
First time she had been certain.
A flutter.
She went still.
Steven noticed.
“What?”
Angela touched her abdomen.
“The baby.”
His face changed.
“Moved?”
“I think.”
The room became quiet.
Steven looked at her hand.
Then at papers.
Something painful crossed his face.
Northshore on table.
Their child moving.
Same two worlds.
Again.
He whispered:
“Can I?”
Angela knew what he meant.
Touch?
Too early perhaps he might not feel.
She shook her head.
“Not yet.”
He nodded.
No resentment.
Good.
Then Angela asked:
“What do you want me to say?”
Steven stared.
“I don’t want you to lie.”
“But?”
“No but.”
He took breath.
“They offered me a path.”
“If you say separation started six months ago, the Bellamy’s photo stops looking like CEO using company activity to hide affair.”
“Except it is false.”
“Yes.”
“And it would make Sloane’s story more believable.”
“Yes.”
“And make me a liar.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are we talking?”
Steven closed eyes.
“Because for about ten minutes this morning, I wanted to ask you.”
There.
Honesty before action.
“I wanted the deal.”
“Of course.”
“I told myself nobody gets hurt by one sentence.”
Angela laughed softly.
“That’s how all this started.”
He looked at her.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Then:
“I said no.”
“Northshore may walk.”
Angela felt no satisfaction.
This acquisition had consumed years of Steven’s life.
Maybe it had consumed their marriage.
Now it might disappear because he refused another lie.
“Are you angry at me?”
he asked.
“For what?”
“For bringing it here.”
“Yes.”
“Fair.”
“But you said no before I answered.”
“Yes.”
“That matters.”
He nodded.
Then his phone buzzed.
He looked.
Board chair.
He answered only after Angela nodded.
“Go.”
Steven stepped outside.
Five minutes later returned.
His face blank.
“They walked.”
Northshore ended negotiations.
No exclusivity.
No acquisition.
The deal Steven had postponed vacations for.
Missed family events for.
Used to justify his affair timeline.
Gone.
Angela expected him to break.
He sat.
For a long time.
Then laughed once.
“Five years.”
“What?”
“I chased them five years.”
“Negotiating one.”
“Planning four.”
He rubbed eyes.
“And I almost asked you to lie for another week of it.”
Angela said nothing.
Steven looked at her.
“Do you know what’s terrible?”
“Many things.”
He smiled faintly.
“I don’t feel as bad as I thought.”
“About losing deal?”
“Yes.”
“What do you feel?”
“Embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“Because I kept saying everything depended on it.”
“And apparently nothing did.”
Angela’s throat tightened.
That had been marriage too.
Steven had acted like his presence held every structure together.
Company.
Home.
Angela.
Then one by one—
they continued without him.
Painful.
Necessary.
The next day Daniels Capital announced Northshore talks ended.
Stock? Private company. Investors disappointed.
Steven remained leave.
Interim CEO Maya Thompson formally appointed through year-end.
Steven’s name moved from center of every press release.
He hated it.
He did not fight.
Then another problem arrived.
Someone leaked Angela’s pregnancy.
A photograph appeared online of her leaving the twelve-week ultrasound.
Headline:
STEVEN DANIELS’ ESTRANGED WIFE EXPECTING FIRST CHILD AMID SUPERMODEL SCANDAL
Angela saw it while grocery shopping with Rebecca.
Her stomach dropped.
Nobody outside close circle knew.
Not even their parents publicly.
She left cart.
Went to car.
Called Natalie.
“Who?”
“We’re finding out.”
“Steven?”
“I don’t know.”
Angela’s hands shook.
Within minutes reporters were outside Rebecca’s building.
Cameras.
Questions.
“Angela, is Steven the father?”
“Are you reconciling?”
“Did you know about Sloane before pregnancy?”
“Is baby why Steven ended affair?”
She felt sick.
Rebecca called police to clear entrance.
Angela moved temporarily to a hotel under another name.
Not because she feared Steven.
Because strangers now knew where she slept.
Steven called.
She answered furious.
“Did you tell them?”
“No.”
“Do not lie.”
“I didn’t.”
“Your company?”
“I’m asking.”
“Your mother?”
“No.”
“Sloane?”
“I don’t know.”
Angela cried.
“This was mine.”
“I know.”
“No.”
“This was ours to tell.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
Silence.
Then Steven said:
“I’m going to find out.”
“No.”
Her old fear rose.
He would use money.
Pressure.
Control.
She corrected:
“Your company can investigate its own people.”
“My lawyer investigates legal breaches.”
“You do not send private investigators after photographers.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Steven.”
He stopped.
“Okay.”
Good.
Forty-eight hours later, source emerged.
Daniels Capital’s outside PR consultant.
Not Caroline.
A man named Peter Voss.
He had anonymously confirmed pregnancy to one business reporter.
Why?
Internal emails showed strategy:
Pregnancy softens narrative around Steven. Public may see him as conflicted future father rather than reckless executive.
Angela stared at words.
Her unborn child converted into reputation management.
Again.
Steven fired Voss immediately.
Then did something Angela did not expect.
He issued public statement.
Not through PR team.
Personally.
Information about Angela’s pregnancy was disclosed without her permission by a consultant working for Daniels Capital. She did not authorize the disclosure. I did not authorize it. Responsibility for protecting her privacy while she is carrying our child should never have been treated as a communications strategy. I apologize to Angela and our future child.
Then:
I am asking media to stop photographing her medical appointments.
No reconciliation hint.
No sympathy.
No Northshore.
Angela read three times.
Rebecca asked:
“Good?”
Angela swallowed.
“Better.”
Not enough to restore marriage.
But perhaps enough to build something else.
Respect.
Maybe.
That evening, the baby moved again.
Stronger.
Angela placed both hands on stomach.
“You and me first.”
She whispered.
The same promise from taxi.
Only now she understood “you and me” did not mean shutting Steven out forever.
It meant nobody—
not Steven.
Not Sloane.
Not Daniels Capital.
Not reporters.
May you like
Not even Angela’s fear—
would get to turn the baby into leverage again.
Related Stories
