Chapter 44 44

Chapter 44 44
IRIS QUINN

I returned to the living room to Victor pacing like a predator, his hands still clasped behind his tense back.

“Mr. Laurent—”

He turned sharply, the movement like a whip-crack. “What do you have to say for your mother’s behavior?”

My fists clenched at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. “I apologize. She’s grieving. She’s not herself.”

Victor stopped. The silence he projected was suffocating. “Grief doesn’t make people mad, Iris. Your mother has lost her wits.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

He let out a humorless laughter that set my teeth on edge. “You’ll take care of it.” He shook his head, looking at me as if I were a particularly disappointing investment.  “I’ve had enough of your insincere apologies. My mercy is clearly being taken for granted. Your marriage into this family must have made Margaret forget her place.”

Heat crawled up my spine. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

He looked at me with distaste. “Have you forgotten your father’s fraudulent actions got your family into this mess in the first place?”

My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might crack. I forced myself to breathe. To stay calm.

“My father is not a fraud,” I said slowly. “If anyone is, it’s Aaron.”

Victor straightened, his eyes narrowing into slits. “What are you talking about?”

“I found out through Caesar that Aaron’s been buttering up executives. Talking about succession and leadership transitions.” I kept my voice steady. “He’s positioning himself right under your nose.”

Victor went very still. “Are you sure of what you’re saying? Or is this actually Caesar?”

“Unless you plan on pinning a lie on your own blood to take the side of an outsider,” I said, meeting his gaze without blinking, “you’d better believe me.”

Victor stared at me for a long moment, processing. He clearly hadn’t expected this.

“I’ve given you information,” I continued, pressing the advantage while he was off-balance. “Now take down the articles about my father’s death. Every single one.”

“I asked for information on Caesar,” Victor said. “Not Aaron.”

“A deal is a deal. And your son is blameless.”

“Blameless.” Victor stepped closer, his shadow swallowing me. “If I find out Caesar is doing something behind my back and you’re protecting him, you’ll pay for it. Do you understand?”

I didn’t tremble. I didn’t look away. I had spent enough time being intimidated by him, and I was finished.

“Why would I risk everything I have for a man like your son?”

Victor studied me, weighing my words, searching for the cracks I knew were there. But I didn't give him any. Finally, he nodded slowly. “Very well. I’ll take down the articles.”

I turned and walked out of the living room before he could find a reason to change his mind.

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. I was no magician, but I knew Caesar was far from blameless. I knew he was plotting something, but now wasn’t the time to play that card. Father and son going at each other wasn’t a move I was ready to make.

But Aaron?

Aaron was ready.

And that was more than enough for now.

\---

I returned to the room just as Caesar stirred.

His eyes opened slowly, unfocused and clouded with the remnants of the whiskey, before they finally found me standing by the door. I walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress, watching him haul himself upright. His hair was a wreck, sticking up in places, and for the first time since I’d known him, he looked almost… human.

He looked at me, then at the door, then back again. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Nothing.” He sat up fully, rubbing the back of his neck with a groan. “Did someone come knocking? I heard something but couldn’t get up.”

I wasn't ready to tell him about his father or my mother’s wreckage, so I just nodded. “Staff knocked. It’s been sorted out.”

He moved to stand, his movements a little stiff.

“How did we fall in love?”

He stopped mid-motion, turning to me with a furrowed brow.

“You didn’t answer before you fell asleep,” I reminded him.

Caesar shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes narrowing as he ran the calculation. “Business trip?”

“Where?”

“Italy.”

I scrunched my nose. “That’s too cliché.”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of his usual heat returning. “What’s cliché about Italy? I actually have a villa there.”

“You said it without thinking. It makes me think you met a dozen women there.”

His head tilted slightly. “Fine. Name a country, then.”

I thought for a moment. “Germany.”

He didn’t argue. “Anything else?”

I gestured to the couch. “Sit. There’s a lot to note down.”

He hesitated, then walked back to the couch and sat.

“What do we say if someone points out that our companies are rivals?” I asked. “People aren't stupid. They know we should be at each other's throats.”

Caesar began rolling up his sleeves, the movement slow, revealing the hard lines of his forearms. He leaned back, his eyes fixing on mine with a sudden, unsettling intensity.

“I’ll answer that question myself when the time comes.”

“I need to know now so I can play along.”

He didn’t look away as he said, “My response would be that I didn’t care about the rivalry. That I saw you across a room in Berlin and knew immediately that letting you walk away would be the biggest mistake of my life.”

His voice dropped an octave, turning into a low, intimate hum. “That sometimes you meet someone who makes you forget about strategy and just... want.”

My heart skipped as I stared at him wordlessly, my mouth suddenly dry.

He tilted his head slightly. “How’s that?”

“Yeah.” I forced my eyes away, a traitorous heat building in my chest. “Yeah, that works.”

He was still looking at me. I could feel it.

“Can you dance?” he asked.

I turned back, trying to reclaim my composure. “Why do you care?”

“There’s a high possibility we’ll dance together at the gala. Appearances matter.”

I scoffed. “Just say you don’t want to be embarrassed by me.”

“You’re smart. I was certain you’d understand.”

I rolled my eyes. “I quit in high school. So no, I’m not good at it.”

Caesar nodded, more to himself than to me. He stood and walked to the center of the room, his presence suddenly filling the space.

“Come,” he said simply.

I looked around like there was another person he could be talking to. “What are you trying to do?”

Before I could make sense of it, his hand snaked around my waist and jerked me close. The air left my lungs in a sharp hiss as I collided with his chest.

“I’m teaching you,” he said, his voice a low vibration against my forehead. “Follow my lead.”

“There’s no need for this—”

He didn't listen. He took my hand and placed it flat against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat under my palm, terrifyingly calm compared to the storm in my own blood.

Then he looked down at me, his eyes locking onto mine with a gravity that made the rest of the world vanish.

“Eyes on me, Iris.”