The boardroom was silent except for the ticking of the antique clock on the far wall. Julian's fingers drummed against the polished table, his expression carved from the same stone as the towering skyscrapers beyond the glass. Around him, the members of Veyron Group's board shifted in their leather chairs, waiting for the verdict.
Selene stood at the far end of the table, her portfolio in hand, the faintest frost in her eyes. She had been summoned under the pretext of a "strategic review" but she knew what this really was—a political ambush wrapped in polite corporate jargon.
"Miss Ardent," said Mr. Loughlan, the longest-serving board member, his tone dripping with false courtesy, "there have been… concerns about your handling of the Arcadia expansion project. The numbers look impressive, but some of us feel the risks were—how shall I put it—recklessly managed."
Selene's lips curved into the faintest smile. Reckless? If only they knew how many late nights she'd spent ensuring every risk was accounted for. But this wasn't about the numbers. This was about her position, her influence, and—by extension—Julian's protection of her in a corporate arena where everyone wore knives instead of ties.
Julian's gaze never left her. There was something unreadable there, as if he were daring her to stand on her own, to see if she'd sink or rise.
"Mr. Loughlan," Selene said coolly, "when the Arcadia project turns a profit next quarter—something it will do—will the board also be convening a special session to apologize for its misplaced concerns? Or is this theater purely for your personal entertainment?"
A sharp inhale cut through the room. One of the junior members visibly paled.
Julian leaned back in his chair, one hand resting casually against his jaw. "Gentlemen," he drawled, "Miss Ardent's handling of the Arcadia expansion was not reckless—it was necessary. Without her strategies, you'd all be watching the company lose millions while our competitors danced on our graves. Now…" He straightened. "Unless you're here to vote on her removal, I suggest we stop wasting time."
The tension crackled like static. No one dared call for a vote.
When the meeting ended, Selene brushed past Julian without a word, heels clicking like gunshots. He followed her into the hallway.
"You didn't need to defend me," she said, without turning.
"Yes, I did," he replied smoothly. "You're too valuable. And besides…" He paused, his tone dipping into something darker. "I'm not done with you yet."
Her pulse stuttered, though she masked it well. "Careful, Mr. Veyron. Noose or not, velvet still strangles."
Julian's smile was slow, dangerous. "That's the idea."
---u