Chapter 44
Serena
"He's just trying very hard to control how much he cares about you." Vincent's smile was knowing, almost tender. "And failing spectacularly at it."
My face burned hotter. "Vincent, I don't think—"
"We're here." He pulled up to the Lawson Capital building, the glass tower gleaming in the morning sun. "You should get to work, Miss Vance."
But I couldn't let it go. Not yet. "Wait—so you're saying he actually has feelings for me? That all of this isn't just... professional courtesy?"
My heart hammered as I waited for his answer, even though some part of me already knew.
Vincent turned in his seat, meeting my eyes with unexpected seriousness. "I'm saying that in ten years, you're the first person who's made him forget to be perfect." His voice softened. "I'm telling you this because I care about him. Because I want you to understand what you're walking into—his pressures, his walls, the armor he wears."
He paused. "And most importantly, I don't want you to give up just because he acts like an emotionless ice sculpture. That's just protection, Miss Vance. Underneath it, there's fire. I've seen it."
Something warm and terrifying bloomed in my chest. "I—"
"So please," Vincent said quietly, "don't be discouraged by the frost. Keep melting it. I think you might be the only one who can."
I nodded slowly, not trusting my voice. Then, because apparently Vincent's confidence was contagious: "Good. Because I've already got the matches ready."
Vincent's delighted laugh followed me as I stepped out of the car and headed toward the building entrance.
---
My private office on the twenty-fifth floor was exactly as I'd left it yesterday—organized chaos of research materials and authentication reports spread across every surface. I dropped my bag on the desk and immediately powered up my computer, adrenaline already surging through my veins.
The Grey Estate. Two weeks until the board presentation. I needed to dive into the collection database, cross-reference provenance records, verify attributions—
The login screen appeared. I entered my credentials.
ACCESS DENIED
I frowned, tried again.
ACCESS DENIED - INSUFFICIENT PERMISSIONS
"What?" I stared at the screen, my stomach dropping. The Grey Estate database was the entire foundation of my work. Without access, I couldn't verify authenticity, couldn't assess value, couldn't do literally anything Lance had assigned me to do.
I jabbed the intercom button. "Margaret? Can you come in here?"
My assistant appeared within seconds, her usual efficiency evident in her brisk movements. "Yes, Miss Vance?"
"I can't access the Grey Estate database." I gestured at the error message still glowing on my screen. "It's saying I don't have permissions."
Margaret's brow furrowed. She leaned over, examining the screen. "That's... odd. You should have full access. Mr. Lawson's authorization was very clear." She straightened, already pulling out her phone. "Let me contact IT immediately. This is obviously an error."
"How long will it take to fix?"
"I'm not sure. Database permissions are typically handled at a very high level—only senior executives can authorize changes." She was already typing rapidly on her phone. "But I'll escalate this as urgent. You need this access to complete your assignment."
"Thank you." I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice. "Please let me know as soon as you hear anything."
Margaret nodded and hurried out, leaving me alone with my useless computer and mounting anxiety. One week. I had one week to prepare the most important presentation of my career, and I couldn't even access the basic materials.
I stood, pacing to the window. Twenty-five floors below, Manhattan bustled with its usual chaotic energy. Somewhere in this building, Lance was probably in meetings, making decisions that moved millions of dollars with casual precision. And here I was, blocked by a database permission error like some incompetent intern.
Focus, Serena. There's always a workaround. You can review the physical inventory lists, cross-reference with auction records, start building your authentication framework—
A soft knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts.
I turned toward my office door, which I'd left half-open in my rush to start working. A figure stood in the doorway—tall, impeccably dressed in a purple suit that should have looked ridiculous but somehow worked perfectly on him.
He knocked again, casual and confident, then smiled. "Well, well. If it isn't Miss Vance—our company's newest rising star. Already handling the Grey Estate acquisition after less than a week here. Impressive."
I studied him carefully. Mid-forties, probably, with sharp features softened by an easy, magnetic smile. Salt-and-pepper hair styled with effortless sophistication. Vibrant energy radiated from him—the kind of man who lit up rooms just by entering them. And those eyes—warm hazel that crinkled at the corners, inviting trust even as something sharper lurked beneath.
Everything about him screamed charisma. The kind of charm that made you want to confide in him, to believe he was on your side.
Which made him infinitely more dangerous than someone overtly hostile.
I straightened, adopting my most professional posture. "I'm sorry, can I help you?"
He stepped fully into my office, hand extended. "Where are my manners? Felix Lawson. Head of Global Procurement." His smile widened, genuine warmth flooding his expression. "Lance's cousin."
My heart stopped.
Felix Lawson.