The Night We Met - Lord Huron; Solo - Myles Smith
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Chapter Twenty-Six
The conference room at Dalton Industries buzzed with energy. Diane Dalton sat at the head of the table, her posture poised, fingers tapping lightly on her tablet as she reviewed the quarterly projections. Her fashion empire was thriving, but today's meeting was about strategic partnerships, expansion, and negotiations that could make or break a deal.
Her phone vibrated subtly, a text from Chelsea: Brace yourself. Something tells me the Black storm is coming.
Diane smirked. Chelsea had a sixth sense for drama. She pocketed the phone, trying to focus, but the tension in her chest wouldn't subside.
Moments later, the door swung open, and in strode Jeffrey Black, tie loosened, expression sharp, every inch the controlled chaos that made him so infuriatingly magnetic. Heads turned as he passed; even seasoned executives felt the weight of his presence. Diane's pulse quickened, a dangerous mix of irritation and attraction hitting her all at once.
"Diane," he greeted, voice low but audible over the chatter. "I trust your empire is still intact."
She didn't flinch. "Still standing. Unlike your humility, apparently."
A faint chuckle escaped him, but his eyes hardened as he looked at the documents in front of her. "Let's talk numbers."
What started as a professional discussion quickly spiraled. Their teams volleyed projections, profits, and market shares, but beneath it all, Diane and Jeffrey exchanged subtle verbal jabs, each pushing the other's buttons.
"You're overestimating the market growth by at least twelve percent," Diane said, her tone calm but icy.
"And you're underestimating the brand influence of Black Enterprises," he countered, leaning slightly forward, the movement charged with subtle intimidation.
The room felt electric. Partners shifted in their seats, sensing the undercurrent between the two CEOs. Diane's jaw tightened, and she fought to keep her voice steady.
Jason, leaning casually against the back wall with a clipboard, couldn't resist whispering to Damon, "This is like watching two storms collide. And somehow, Jeff looks like he's about to combust."
Damon smirked. "Good. Let him. He needs reminding that Dalton isn't a playground for Black arrogance."
The verbal sparring escalated until Jeffrey's gaze flicked to Diane, sharp and possessive. "Are you always this defiant, or is it just when I'm around?"
Diane met his stare evenly. "I save the theatrics for people who think they can intimidate me."
Jeffrey's jaw tightened. The air between them crackled with barely contained tension. And then came the tipping point: a proposal for a joint venture, and the discussion over equity splits. Diane suggested a number that pushed the limits of Black Enterprises' usual concessions. Jeffrey's voice dropped, low and dangerous.
"That's… ambitious," he said, letting a smirk play at the corner of his lips. "Bold. Risky. And probably a little foolish."
Diane's lips curved into a small, controlled smile. "I prefer ambitious to arrogant."
A quiet gasp swept through the room. Partners and executives exchanged glances, unsure if they were witnessing a negotiation or a showdown.
Finally, unable to contain it, Jeffrey leaned forward, his voice louder than intended. "You really think you can challenge me on my own terms?"
Diane's eyes sparked with fire. "I don't think, Mr. Black. I know."
The room went silent for a beat, and then Chelsea, sitting near the back as an observer, whispered audibly to herself, "Oh, this is going to be legendary."
Jason nudged Damon, smirking. "See? I told you he's territorial. He can't even hide it."
Damon shook his head, but there was amusement in his eyes. "Better for her. She'll know exactly what she's dealing with."
Before anyone could intervene, the conversation took a sharper turn, Jeffrey's subtle jealousy flared. Diane mentioned Alexander Pierce as a potential investor for one of her overseas projects, and Jeffrey's hand tightened around the pen he had been holding.
"Alexander Pierce?" he asked, each word deliberate, almost heavy. "I'm curious… what makes you trust him?"
Diane raised an eyebrow, folding her hands calmly. "Because he's competent. Unlike some people I know, I prefer to work with results over charm."
Jeffrey's jaw twitched, and for a brief moment, the controlled mask faltered, leaving a flicker of raw emotion, jealousy, frustration, and something he wasn't ready to name.
The room felt charged again, and Diane sensed it, every instinct alert. She knew the power struggle was no longer just about business, it was about territory, ego, and the unspoken challenge that had been simmering between them for months.
As the meeting wrapped, both Diane and Jeffrey remained standing, eyes locked, a silent battle raging beneath the surface. Their assistants and colleagues quietly exchanged notes, recognizing that the tension was personal as much as it was professional.
Later, Diane stepped into the elevator, exhaling slowly. Her phone buzzed: a single message from Chelsea, He's mad. And it's adorable.
Diane couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her, despite herself. "Adorable," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. "I am not falling for him."
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Meanwhile, in his office, Jeffrey sat at his desk, glass of whiskey untouched. Jason and Damon were out for the afternoon, leaving him alone with the weight of his own conflicting thoughts.
Damon's warning echoed in his mind: Not every battle is worth winning.
Yet he couldn't shake the image of Diane Dalton, the way she had stared him down, unafraid, brilliant, beautiful, and maddeningly infuriating. The challenge had ignited something inside him that no business victory ever could.
He typed a quick message to Jason: Keep an eye on Dalton. Things are getting… interesting.
Jason replied instantly: Already am. She's playing him like a grandmaster.
Jeffrey smirked, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. "Good," he murmured. "Let her play. I love a challenge."
And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to admit, even if only to the empty office, that Diane Dalton had shifted from a professional consideration to… something else entirely. Something dangerous, tempting, and utterly consuming.
The storm was only just beginning, and both Dalton and Black knew it.