Chapter 45: Him

Ivy

The boardroom was sleek and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city. But the tension in the air was suffocating as my assistant and I entered. The representatives from the family-owned company sat on the other side of the table, their expressions guarded.

Introductions were made, pleasantries exchanged, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off. The patriarch of the family, a stern man with graying hair, barely spoke. His son did most of the talking, his words smooth but hollow, as if he were reading from a script. 

I studied them, letting their words wash over me as I focused on their body language. The father’s hands were clenched tightly on the table, his knuckles white. The son avoided eye contact, his gaze darting to the door more than once.

And then it hit me—their fear. It wasn’t just discomfort or hesitation. They were afraid. 

“Why sell now?” I asked, cutting into the conversation. My voice was calm, but the directness of my question made the son flinch.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his smile faltering.

“You’ve held onto this company for decades,” I said. “What’s changed?”

The father shot his son with a sharp look, a silent warning. But the son faltered, his composure cracking. “It’s… complicated,” he said finally, his voice wavering.

“Complicated how?” I pressed, leaning forward. “If we’re going to make this deal, we need transparency.”

The son opened his mouth, but the father cut him off. “It’s personal,” he said gruffly. “That’s all you need to know.”

But it wasn’t. I could feel it in my bones. They weren’t selling because they wanted to. They were selling because they had to. 

The tension in the room thickened, and I could almost taste it. It was in the air, heavy like smoke, choking the conversation before it even had a chance to unfold. The son’s eyes flickered nervously, shifting between his father and me. I could see the unspoken exchange between them, the kind that only years of shared secrets could create. 

“I think it’s more than just ‘personal,’” I said, my voice steady, almost cold as I let the silence drag on. “What’s really going on here?”

The father’s grip on the table tightened even more, and for a split second, I thought he might lash out. Instead, he cleared his throat, his face hardening like a mask.

“There’s nothing more to say,” he growled, his voice sharp and final, dismissing me as if I were nothing more than an annoyance. 

But something about the way he spoke, the way his words seemed to hang in the air with an underlying threat, sent a shiver crawling up my spine. I wasn’t going to let them off that easily. Not when I was this close to something—something that felt like a ticking time bomb.

“You’re making a mistake,” I said quietly, my eyes locked on the son. “You’re hiding something. Whatever it is, it’s bigger than a family issue. And I’m not signing this deal until I know what it is.”

The son shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting to the door again. The fear in his eyes was palpable, and I could practically hear the thoughts racing through his mind: How much does she know? What will she do if she finds out?

The father’s jaw clenched. “You’re wasting your time.”

I leaned back in my chair, not backing down, not giving them an inch. The clock on the wall ticked, the sound far too loud in the oppressive silence. My assistant shifted uneasily behind me, sensing the growing tension but wisely staying quiet.

Then, just as I thought they were about to cut the meeting short, the son blurted out, “You’re right.” 

My heart skipped a beat. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for.

“We’re selling because we don’t have a choice,” he continued, his voice shaky but resolute. “We’re being forced into it. Someone… Someone is threatening us. And they’ve made it clear: we either sell, or everything we’ve built will be destroyed. We decided to sell it to your father’s company because it’s…the right thing to do.”

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and I could feel the first stirrings of a much larger story unfolding, something far more dangerous than I had anticipated.

The father gave his son a furious look, but it was too late. The crack in their carefully constructed wall had been made, and I wasn’t about to let it close.

“Who’s threatening you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

The son hesitated, glancing nervously over his shoulder as though the very walls might have ears. “I—”

The door to the boardroom swung open with a sudden, deafening crash, and my heart skipped a beat. A figure stood in the doorway, blocking the light, his silhouette tall and imposing. The air seemed to freeze as all eyes turned toward him.

My breath hitched in my throat when I saw his face. He was the last person I expected, the one person I had hoped would stay far, far away.

It was him.

The man who had shadowed my every step, the one whose power reached far beyond the boardrooms and business deals I was accustomed to. The one whose presence sent a wave of cold dread crashing over me.

He walked into the room slowly, his every movement calculated, deliberate. A smirk played at the edge of his lips, and I could feel the dangerous energy swirling around him, suffocating the room. 

I knew then that nothing would ever be the same again. 

"Well, well, Ivy," his voice was smooth, but there was an edge of malice beneath it. "I believe we have some unfinished business to discuss."

The father and son looked at him with a mixture of fear and reluctance, as if they knew exactly who he was and exactly what he was capable of.

The room felt too small, too suffocating as he walked toward me, his presence consuming every inch of space. He stopped just in front of me, his gaze never leaving mine. My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of fear and anger flooding my veins.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, trying to steady my voice, but the tremor in it betrayed me.

He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, his voice low and dangerous. “You think you can play in my game, Ivy? You think you can ask questions and walk away unscathed?”

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. This wasn’t a negotiation anymore. This was a warning. And I had just crossed a line.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his lips curling into a smile that sent a chill down my spine. “I’m just getting started.”

Before I could respond, the lights flickered, and the room seemed to shake with the intensity of his words.