Chapter Three
Diane's reflection in the full-length mirror stared back at her, a perfect mixture of elegance, power, and defiance. She wore a deep emerald dress that hugged her curves without being revealing, paired with diamond drop earrings and her signature red lipstick, the kind of look that announced she was no ordinary woman. She wasn't about to walk into this arranged "meeting" as a pawn. She was Diane Dalton, CEO of a fashion empire, a woman who could buy and sell reputations if she wanted to. And tonight, if she had to face Jeffrey Black, she would do it standing tall.
Her mother, Elsa, hovered behind her, fussing with her pearls. She was proud of her daughter's beauty, buh worry was literally dripping from her eyes.
Diane smirked slightly, adjusting the strap of her clutch. "Good. Let him choke on it."
The ride to the Black family's private restaurant was tense. Her father's jaw was clenched in stone-like resolve, her mother fiddled nervously with her pearls, and Diane sat tall, crossing her legs elegantly, her mind building invisible walls. She could not afford to be vulnerable, not tonight.
She rehearsed everything in her head: smile, polite greeting, sharp comebacks if he tried anything. But deep down, Diane couldn't ignore the nagging curiosity. Jeffrey Black had a reputation that preceded him. CEO, royalty, playboy and someone whose charm was said to be deadly.
The restaurant glowed in soft golden light, every detail dripping with old money and prestige. Uniformed staff lined the entrance, bowing as the Daltons arrived. Diane's heels clicked on the marble floor, drawing attention, but she barely noticed her eyes were scanning, searching, waiting.
And then she saw him.
Jeffrey Black.
Seated casually at a private table, one arm draped over the chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his dark eyes swept over the room with the air of a man who owned not just the space but the world. His sharp suit accentuated broad shoulders and a lean, athletic frame. He radiated effortless authority, the kind that made people obey without question. Royalty wasn't about crowns, it was about presence, and Jeffrey had it in full force.
Diane's pulse quickened slightly. Not because she was intimidated, she wasn't, but because she hadn't expected someone like him to exude confidence and control so naturally.
He noticed her the instant she entered, and his smirk was calculated, deliberate. Not mockery, not arrogance, just measured interest. He leaned back in his chair, whiskey untouched, and observed her like a general surveying a battlefield, deciding what tactics he was going to implement.
"Miss Dalton," he said, voice smooth and commanding, rising from his seat. "I was starting to wonder if you'd actually show up."
Diane arched a brow, keeping her cool. "And miss this delightful trap my parents set for me? Never." Her tone was sharp but polite, her emerald eyes steady on him.
He chuckled, low and amused, his presence magnetic. "Bold. I like that. Very few people walk into my world without hesitation."
Her father cleared his throat. "Diane, this is Jeffrey Black."
Diane extended her hand, fingers perfectly manicured. "Mr. Black."
Instead of shaking it, Jeffrey lifted her hand to his lips, his dark eyes never leaving hers as he brushed against her knuckles. "Please," he murmured, "call me Jeffrey. Mr. Black makes me sound old-fashioned, and I assure you, I am far more interesting than that." His playboy attitude shining through.
Diane held his gaze, her lips curving into a subtle, dangerous smile. "We'll see about that."
They sat, and Diane immediately noted the tension that hung between them. He wasn't aggressive, but he was unapologetically himself. His gaze challenged her, silently testing her limits, while she matched him in poise and composure. He leaned back, fingers steepled, observing her like she was both an adversary and a puzzle he intended to solve.
"So," he said after a moment, voice low and deliberate, "the empire princess herself. I suppose I should be flattered they think you're my match."
Diane's lips curved into a playful, teasing smile. "Or perhaps I should be flattered they think you're mine."
A deep laugh escaped him, genuine and unexpected. Diane noted, with a mixture of annoyance and intrigue, that this man could charm a room without moving a muscle. Yet she wasn't about to let him see that he had affected her, even though she was shocked that he was this attractive, even though she did her research on him. She straightened, a flash of fire in her eyes.
For the rest of the evening, conversation flowed between them like a duel. Sharp, witty, full of subtle barbs and clever comebacks. Neither backed down, neither surrendered an inch. Each glance, each word, was a challenge, a test, a spark that promised more than either wanted to admit.
When the evening drew to a close, Jeffrey leaned slightly toward her. His dark eyes held amusement, interest, and something else, a quiet promise. "You're not what I expected, Diane Dalton. And I don't give my attention easily… but I think you may be worth the trouble."
Diane forced a casual smile, though her heartbeat betrayed her. "Funny. I was just about to say the same."
As they rose, the air between them crackled with the knowledge that this was only the beginning, and that nothing about their story would be simple, safe, or ordinary.