Chapter 107 Provocation
Tristan leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked at me, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face.
"Five months ago, I would have thrown him through the window," Tristan admitted honestly. "And then I would have fired half the board for watching."
"And today?"
"Today," Tristan said, his amber eyes clear and bright, "I watched the most talented, beautiful woman in the city shut him down without breaking a sweat. And then I secured the financing for her building."
He took a step toward me, closing the distance.
"I don't need to throw him through a window, Mina," Tristan murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Because I know who you're going home with."
The absolute, quiet confidence in his voice was staggering. It wasn't the arrogant assumption of ownership. It was the quiet, solid security of a man who finally believed he was loved.
The therapy was working. The foundation was holding.
I smiled, leaning into his touch, my cheek resting against his palm.
"You handled that very well," I praised him. "Very adult."
"Don't give me too much credit," he warned, his thumb stroking my jawline, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly hum. "I still wanted to punch him. I just decided there was a more... productive way to channel the adrenaline."
His hand slid to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair.
"Oh?" I breathed, my pulse jumping. "And what way is that?"
"Lock the door, Minerva," he ordered softly.
I reached behind me, turning the deadbolt until it clicked.
He didn't waste another second. He pulled me flush against his chest, his mouth crashing down on mine. The kiss was hungry, demanding, fueled by the primal, possessive urge he had successfully restrained in the boardroom.
I tasted the faint lingering flavor of espresso and the sharp, clean mint of his breath. I kissed him back with equal ferocity, my hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket.
He walked me backward, his pace urgent, until my back hit the solid wood of his massive desk. He cleared the surface with one sweep of his arm, sending files and a stack of blueprints clattering to the floor.
He lifted me by the waist, setting me on the edge of the desk, stepping between my parted legs.
"He wanted to take you to dinner," Tristan growled against my mouth, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my tailored skirt higher.
"I told him I was booked," I gasped, throwing my head back as his lips moved down my neck.
"You're booked for the rest of your life," Tristan vowed, his voice dark and absolute.
It wasn't a punishment. It wasn't a reaction born of fear. It was a celebration of the territory we had secured.
I tangled my hands in his hair as he kissed me again, the heat between us flaring hot and fast in the quiet sanctuary of his office.
The rival had tried to find a crack in the armor.
He hadn't realized that the armor was gone, and the fortress underneath was built of solid steel.
Two days later, I was sitting in the temporary office at the estate, reviewing the final lighting schematics for the nursery.
The door opened, and Lonnie walked in, carrying a large, glossy architectural magazine. He looked practically giddy.
"Darling," Lonnie announced, dropping the magazine onto my desk. "Have you seen the news?"
I looked up, a familiar spike of anxiety hitting my chest. "News? What news?"
"Not the tabloids," Lonnie clarified quickly, waving his hand. "Business news. Open it."
I picked up the magazine. It was flipped open to a two-page spread in the financial section.
The headline read: VERIDIAN CAPITAL EXECUTES SURPRISE HOSTILE TAKEOVER OF VANGUARD ARCHITECTURE.
I stared at the page.
In a shocking move early Thursday morning, Veridian Capital, helmed by Tristan Johnston, acquired a controlling stake in Vanguard Architecture, effectively absorbing the rival firm. Elias Vance, former head of Vanguard, has reportedly been ousted from his position as Lead Creative Director...
I slowly lowered the magazine.
I looked at Lonnie. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"He didn't punch him," Lonnie cackled, clapping his hands together. "He just bought his entire life and fired him. It is the most flawlessly executed, petty billionaire revenge I have ever witnessed. I am swooning."
I shook my head, a startled laugh escaping my lips.
"He told me he handled it like an adult," I murmured, staring at the headline.
"Darling, in his world, hostile takeovers are the adult equivalent of a playground brawl," Lonnie pointed out. "It's clean. It's legal. And it completely castrates the competition."
Lonnie leaned over the desk, tapping the photo of Elias Vance looking shocked and disheveled outside the Vanguard offices.
"I told you," Lonnie said. "Your man doesn't share."
I spent the rest of the day alternating between exasperation and a deep, ridiculous fondness.
When Tristan arrived at the estate that evening, he walked into the library looking perfectly relaxed, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses.
"You bought his firm," I said, leaning against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest.
Tristan didn't even pause. He set the glasses down and began opening the wine.
"Vanguard has a very strong structural engineering department," Tristan said smoothly, keeping his eyes on the cork. "Veridian needed to expand our commercial portfolio. It was a sound business decision."
"You fired him."
"His creative vision didn't align with Veridian’s new direction," Tristan countered, pulling the cork free with a soft pop. "He was too... pragmatic."
I walked into the room, stopping in front of him.
"Tristan," I said, trying to maintain a stern expression.
He poured the wine, handing me a glass. He finally looked at me, his amber eyes dancing with unapologetic amusement.
"I promised I wouldn't let my jealousy control me, Mina," he said, taking a step closer, his free hand settling on my hip. "And I didn't. I didn't lose my temper. I didn't make a scene. I simply evaluated a threat to my peace of mind, and I eliminated it through proper, legal channels."
He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear.
"Consider it an investment in our future," he whispered.
I couldn't hold back the smile. I wrapped my free arm around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.
He hadn't stopped being the Titan. He had just learned to use his power to protect the foundation, rather than tear it down.
"You're impossible," I murmured against his mouth.
"I'm efficient," he corrected, kissing me deeper.