Heal

Chapter 2

Y/n's POV
Manhattan, NY

It had been a few days since that damn call, and yet I could still feel the frustration swirling in my gut, a constant reminder of how powerless I had felt in that moment. The phone call had come right after I left my parents' house, that same night I'd been trying to digest the way my family, particularly my brother, always seemed to have an edge in everything. My thoughts should've been focused on family, but instead, I was still tangled in the webs the investors had spun for me.

The memory of that conversation was still fresh. I could hear the voice of one of the investors on the other end of the line, cold and calculated as they delivered the same line they had probably given Jay-Z: "The decision will be announced at the gala."

It felt like a slap in the face. Of course, they'd make me wait until then. The gala—another game of theatrics. Another round of posturing, of showing the world who was in control. It was as if they wanted to strip me of my agency, force me to dance to their tune until they were ready to tell me how things would unfold. But I didn't have time to wait. Time had never been my ally, and it certainly wouldn't be now.

I leaned back in my chair, the cool leather creaking under my weight, and ran my fingers over the edge of my desk. I had been pacing the office for hours, alone with my thoughts, replaying the conversation over and over in my mind. I had spent the past few days trying to convince myself that it wasn't the end of the world, that the decision wasn't a personal blow. I had to accept the decision for now—at least outwardly. But the truth was, I would never be the one to simply accept a compromise like this. Not when it came to something as significant as the Brooklyn Nets.

They wanted to make us co-shareholders? Fine. For now. But that wasn't going to be my final position. I couldn't let it be. I wasn't in this to share power with anyone, least of all Jay-Z. That was the last thing I needed.

I'd been sitting here for hours, my mind running through every possibility, every potential strategy that could push me toward what I really wanted. Control. Full control. Not just half of it. I had come this far, built Y/ln Capital from the ground up, and I would not let some arbitrary decision at a gala decide my future.

I stood up abruptly and walked toward the windows, the city sprawled out before me. I liked the view—it was my reminder of what was mine and what I was still fighting for. But looking at it now, it felt like it was just a reflection of the fight ahead. Every street, every building, every person was a challenge to conquer. A piece of my empire that I still had to claim.

A knock on the door broke my train of thought.

"Come in," I called, my voice already steady.

Talia walked in, a file in hand. "You're looking pensive," she said, her eyes scanning me, no doubt sensing the tension in the air. "Need me to pull up anything?"

I gave her a tight smile, though it didn't reach my eyes. "No. I'm just thinking about how we can make our move before the gala."

Talia raised an eyebrow. "You're not just going to let them make this decision in front of everyone?"

I shook my head, a small smirk forming. "Hell no. But I'm going to let them think I will. Let them play their games. It'll give me more time to position myself."

Talia paused, clearly weighing my words. "What's the plan, then?"

"I'll keep playing by their rules for now. I'll show up to the gala with a smile on my face, ready to be the 'good sport,'" I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "But in the background, I'm going to make sure I have the leverage I need. I don't need the official power right away. I'll work behind the scenes. I'll pull the strings that no one else sees until I have them exactly where I want them."