Chapter 52: ~ 51 ~

LUCAS

“You’re early.”

The voice, smooth and unmistakably familiar, sliced through the stillness of my office before I could even shut the door behind me.

I froze mid-step.

Of all the things I’d prepared for today—meetings, files, calls—she wasn’t one of them.

Slowly, I turned.

There she stood, like a perfectly curated memory I’d tried too damn hard to forget. Isla Wyndham. Dressed in charcoal grey, every inch of her exuded elegance, confidence, and calculated restraint. Even her voice carried that sharp edge it always had, the one that made it sound like she knew more than she was letting on.

“I could say the same for you,” I said coolly, stepping fully into the office and letting the door click shut behind me. “Though I assume you let yourself in.”

“I did,” she replied, a single shrug betraying how little she cared about the boundaries she just bulldozed. “I wanted to talk.”

Of course she did.

It had been over a year since I last saw her. Since the night of the charity gala. The same night she walked away from me—no, stormed away, in front of a ballroom full of people—after turning down the proposal that was supposed to end decades of rivalry between our families.

The Crawfords and the Wyndhams. Oil and flame. A blood feud disguised as corporate warfare. And we were supposed to be the peace offering.

A union brokered in power, not passion. And I… I had sacrificed more than anyone would ever know to try and make it work.

But Isla had been too proud. Too selfish. She hadn’t cared about the generations that came before us. Or the war our fathers had tried so desperately to end. She walked away from all of it. From me.

And now she was here, standing in my office, like she had a right to be.

I stepped forward, jaw tight. “Who let you in?”

She smiled faintly, unaffected. “I have my ways.

“Then I’ll make sure those ‘ways’ get a very clear memo about who belongs in this office and who doesn’t.”

She took a slow step toward me, closing the distance like it meant nothing. “Lucas—”

“Don’t,” I said sharply, raising a hand. “Don’t say my name like you still have that right.”

Her lips pressed together. “Our fathers still want this. The merger. The peace. Us.”

I scoffed. “They can want all they like. I’m done. With you. With all of it.”

Her expression faltered, just for a moment. “I made a mistake—”

“No,” I snapped, stepping in until we were a breath apart. “You made a choice. You walked away. And now you think you can stroll back in here like nothing happened? Like you didn’t shatter everything we were building?”

“It was complicated—”

“Complicated?” I laughed bitterly. “You humiliated me. You humiliated both our families. And now you want to stand here and barter for forgiveness like it’s a damn business transaction?”

She flinched. Good. Let her feel a fraction of what I did that night.

“I suggest you leave,” I said coldly. “Before I have you thrown out myself.”

Her chin lifted, defiance creeping back into her eyes. “This isn’t over.”

She turned and stalked past me, heels clicking across the marble floor.

“It is for me,” I muttered under my breath.

Just as the door was about to swing shut, Theo appeared, pausing mid-step when he caught sight of Isla.

He glanced between us, the tension so thick it practically hummed in the air. “Should I… come back?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Stay.”

Isla gave Theo a knowing look before brushing past him. “I’ll be back,” she said without turning.

Theo watched her go, then looked at me. “Everything alright?”

“I’ve got a lot on my plate,” I said, brushing past him and rounding my desk. “And she’s the least of my worries.”

Theo raised a brow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t push. Instead, he pulled out the folder he’d been carrying.

“Alright then. Let’s get to work.”

And just like that, we did.

Though no matter how many contracts I signed or reports I reviewed, the ghost of Isla’s voice echoed somewhere in the back of my mind.

\----

Work had been hell.

Not the usual boardroom-warzone type of hell. No, this was the kind that clung to your bones and made the air around you heavy. It was past six, and I was still glued to my chair, surrounded by a forest of files. Contracts, merger drafts, procurement reports, client complaints, departmental sales breakdowns—I had clawed my way through each one with the last thread of energy I didn’t even know I had.

Even my damn lunch break had been hijacked.

Theo had strolled in mid-day with that insufferably casual look of his and a one-line bomb: “We’ve got an impromptu lunch meeting with the Ezenwos.” One of our biggest clients. One I couldn’t afford to piss off.

So I dragged myself to that too. Smiled. Nodded. Shook hands. Sealed numbers. Then dragged myself back to the never-ending pile on my desk.

Now here I was, shirt rolled up to my elbows, tie hanging like a surrender flag, buttons undone, stress a living thing coiled around my spine—and still nowhere near done.

The only moment of peace I’d had today was when Dad had passed me in the hallway after our mid-afternoon review and gave me a single shoulder pat. No words. Just that firm, rare gesture that said: Well done, son. And from a man like him, that was the equivalent of fireworks.

I exhaled and leaned back in my chair.

The success of the Apparel Division was just the beginning. The KAI Group was exploding faster than even I could keep up with. Kai-Interiors, our latest expansion, had already bagged three major commercial contracts in the city. And KAI-Kinetics? We were topping the energy chart nationally and bleeding into international rankings.

It sounded like good news.

Until you realized that every milestone meant more weight on my shoulders.

The company used to be one thing—KAI-Energy—a specialized engineering firm my father built from the ground up. But when I stepped in five years ago, I didn’t just inherit it. I overhauled it. Grew it. Branched it into three powerhouses under one empire. KAI Group wasn’t just a name—it was a beast. One I had to feed, tame, and ride at full speed. Every. Damn. Day.

And today, I was barely holding the reins.

I was reaching for the next file when Theo walked in.

I didn’t even look up. “If it’s about the FMC integration, I’ll need another hour.”

“It’s not,” he said. “It’s about getting your ass out of this office.”

That made me glance up.

He was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed, his usual half-smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Clear the damn table. We’re going out.”

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. “Since when do you suggest drinks out of nowhere?”

He shrugged. “Since I realized your office is starting to smell like depression and ink.”

I snorted. Couldn’t help it. “You’re one to talk. After the last time we—”

“Yeah,” he cut in quietly. “I know. Let’s not make it awkward.”

There was a pause. That kind where things hang unsaid between two people who used to be more than just business partners. Friends. Brothers, even.

And I’d missed that.

I studied him. “You’re serious?”

Without replying, Theo crossed the room, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me up from my chair. “Let’s go, Crawford. Before you start sprouting grey hair from stress.”

“Too late,” I muttered, but I didn’t resist.

I grabbed my jacket, ignored the mountain of files threatening to spill behind me, and followed him out. His car was already pulling out of the garage. Mine followed instinctively, tailing him into the city night.

Maybe I’d regret it tomorrow, but tonight, I needed this escape.

Even if it only lasted a few hours.